Chapter 26 #2
“What do you mean?”
Amaris forced back the tears. “My parents,” she breathed. “When I was eight, we went for a lunch on the water. A storm came out of nowhere.”
The night flooded behind her eyes. Lighting arced through the sky; the wind blistered her cheeks.
“Amaris, don’t let go, alright, honey?” Her father stashed her in the stairs leading below deck and guided her hands to the railing.
He assessed the security of her life jacket before running to her mother’s side where she worked the ropes, straining to keep the mast from being sucked into the wind.
They tried lowering the sail, but the winds came quick and were too strong.
Thunder boomed overhead with another flash of lighting, sending Amaris screaming, “Mommy!”
Her father took the ropes from her mother’s hands. “Hold her, Ann,” he said. “Don’t let go of her.”
The waves grew violent, splashing water over the edge and rocking the boat.
Her father was barefoot and shirtless and struggled as he wrapped the rope tighter around his hands.
Amaris clung tightly to her mother, who pressed her lips to Amaris’s forehead, muttering under her breath.
She couldn’t hear her. Maybe it was a prayer to see them home safely.
A crack filled the air, and the mast snapped in half. “Russel!” Her mother screamed, but it was too late. Her father no longer stood in the center of the sailboat with his feet braced against the decking.
“Where’s Daddy?”
Her mother turned to her, her eyes puffy and raindrops streaking her face. “Sit right here. Don’t move till I come get you, alright?”
Amaris didn’t have time to nod before her mother ran across the deck, screaming for her father. Her heart raced in her chest, but not because the ice cream truck was down the road or a butterfly landed on her nose. Fear wrapped around her heart.
Amaris let go of the railing and crawled onto the deck. Ocean water sprayed her cheeks, but she squinted and called out, “Mommy! Daddy!”
Her only answer was a bright light, but Amaris made out her mother standing at the edge of the ship. Before Amaris could crawl closer, her mother was running toward her. She took her in her arms and squeezed the life out of her. She matted down her hair and rubbed her thumbs against her cheeks.
“I need you to be brave, sweetie. It’s going to be cold, and you might be scared, but I need you to keep your vest on and keep swimming. Can you do that for me?”
“Swim?”
Her mother kissed her forehead and wrapped her arms tightly around her. Amaris felt her legs lift from the deck, and then frigid water soaked through her clothes. She screamed when she bobbed to the surface. Amaris flailed her arms and legs, attempting to grab onto something, anything.
“Swim, Amaris!” Her mother dove into the water. She lifted parts of the broken sail and followed lines of rope.
A piece of driftwood bumped Amaris’s shoulder. She dug her fingers into it and steered from the wreckage. Mommy said swim. She kicked her little legs but took one last look over her shoulder as her mother sucked in a large breath and dove beneath the surface.
She could see it all flash before her eyes.
“They both died in the shipwreck.”
“I’m sorry,” Theodoric whispered.
“Don’t be. It’s fine.” Amaris wiped the snot dripping from her nose.
“You don’t need to lie to me.”
“I didn’t lie.” She bit her lip as the waves from the night rolled through her head.
She’d grown exhausted and didn’t know if she’d ever make it to land.
She’d never looked back to see if her mother had found her father before they inevitably drowned.
It was a moment she didn’t know if she regretted or was grateful for.
Her last images of her parents were of their undying love for each other, sacrificing their lives for one another.
“You’re a terrible liar,” Theodoric said with a small laugh.
Amaris wanted to snarl at him. “What makes you say that?”
“You bite the corner of your bottom lip when you’re lying.”
“It’s a nervous habit,” Amaris stammered. “Hardly indicative of someone lying. Besides, what would I have to lie about regarding my parents? It’s been seventeen years. I should be over it by now.” A twinge sharpened in her chest.
“I was only five when my mother passed away.” The deep violet circles beneath his eyes grew. “I miss her every day.”
“What happened?” Amaris asked, before she thought better than to pry.
“She died in childbirth.”
Amaris had gathered there were at least three Fastrada children after Ms. Borstad had spoken of Luther the other day, but there had also been the boy named Jeremiah, who seemed important to Theodoric.
“Adelaide,” he began, answering the pondering look upon her face. “Jeremiah is a half-brother. After my mother’s death, my father eventually married Genevieve, my mother’s sister.”
“Your aunt?” Amaris blurted out. “So does that make you and Esaias cousins and half-brothers?”
He laughed. “No, Esaias’s father is my mother and stepmother’s older brother, but it’s not uncommon, especially for families of nobility. I didn’t understand when I was younger, but now I realize it was for the good of both our families.”
“Aren’t they allowed to marry for love?” Amaris was startled by her own question.
“Of course, people do. It happens every day. But as the duke, he’s expected to fill a certain role.”
“What about you?”
“I don’t have such a burden as my father or Luther.”
“Do you plan to marry someday then, or are you like Adelaide?”
“She says that now, but we’ll see.” His laughter was short-lived as it shifted the muscles in his back.
Amaris rather enjoyed the sound of his laugh, its warmth. “Looks like you’re the one evading questions now.”
“As you so often do.” He sighed. “I have no plans to marry anytime soon. My stepmother, however, sees the Conjugation as a fine occasion to find me a suitable wife.”
“You’d let her?” She couldn’t imagine marrying someone she didn’t pick and love.
“I don’t have a choice in the matter,” he whispered. “I live to serve my family.” He closed his eyes. They squished tighter at the slight feathering of his back muscles.
“I can brew you more cudweed.”
“Please,” he said, not meeting her gaze. Instead, his eyes lingered on her boots.
She pressed from the chair, kicking her highly futuristic shoes under her chair.
She hadn’t come across a zipper here and likely wouldn’t.
To keep her heart steady, she set to brewing the tea.
Theodoric’s eyes still bored holes into her shoes.
Amaris bit her lip, her hands moving mindlessly.
He couldn’t have noticed the zippers. No one had said a word about the jingly little things yet.
She crossed between him and her boots to set the kettle over the fire.
She watched the steam build around the spout and counted the seconds and then the minutes, praying he wasn’t about to ask where she’d gotten such shoes.
As she turned back, her blood ran cold. He wasn’t staring at her shoes at all, rather the drawing and plastic bag poking out from their hidden pocket.
“You said you used to draw.”
“Yes.” She jumped as the kettle whistled behind her. Pouring his tea, her eyes pinned themselves to the single picture poking out and its crinkled corner.
“Can I see?”
“You want to see my work?” She snapped her attention to him, spilling the scalding water across the counter. She yanked back her hand, sucking the burn on her thumb.
She strode over to her boots, shielding them from his prying eyes. She pulled out the picture she’d drawn so long ago from the plastic bag. The small picture had only ever seen two pairs of eyes. Hers and Viv’s. She blew out a short breath and offered it to him.
“Is this your family?” he asked, his fingers tracing the image.
Luckily, Amaris had been feeling artsy and sketched it on a decorative piece of paper that was meant to look like old parchment.
“Yeah.” She kneeled beside him, grasping the other side as she pointed. “That’s my mom and dad, and that’s Gran and Grandad.”
“Were you raised by your grandparents then?”
“Yep.” She sniffled, wiping the corner of her eye. “But it’s only me now.”
“You’re incredibly talented. You even captured the single-dimple smile you share with your mother.”
She blushed, grabbing at the picture. “Really?” The flush spread down her chest and stirred a small laugh. “I drew that so long ago, I forgot.”
“These are the people you’ve lost?”
Wow, way to put it like that. Filed away in old boxes in her attic were thousands of pictures of her with her parents and grandparents, but her drawing had always been special.
She even had several pictures from birthdays growing up of Gran and Grandad visiting Ivory Beach in North Carolina, but she was always center on the page. The drawing was of them.
“Is my pouch up here?”
“The leather one around your belt? I think Esaias brought it up with your stuff.” Amaris moved to the other side of the cot and rifled through his belongings.
She unraveled his shirt, and his belt clanked to the ground.
After untying the strap, she handed him the pouch.
He rummaged through it, coins pinging off one another.
A small painting was in his hand. It was well done enough that it could’ve been a photograph. “Is that Adelaide?”
He laughed again. Amaris held back her grin. She could get used to his laugh.
“No, that’s my mother, Giselle.”
“Holy shit, Adelaide is like a carbon copy of her.”
“A what?”
“I mean twin. They look identical.”
He smiled, his thumb brushing over the small picture. “Yes, Adelaide and I have taken on more Burchard traits.”
“Then why don’t you and Esaias look more alike?”
“The red hair pops up every now and then. One of his nephews has it, and my stepmother does as well.” He replaced the picture in his pouch. “I think that should be strong enough,” he said, eyeing the tea.
“Right,” Amaris sputtered, striding to the worktable and straining the leaves.
Theodoric took the cup this time, not needing her assistance.
Before he had a second to say anything else, she slipped into the tower stairwell and closed the door behind her.
She didn’t know why she needed to step away.
He would pass out soon enough, and there was no way she planned to escape now.
Theodoric was on that cot because of her.
It wasn’t only the paramedic within her choosing to stay and see to his healing, but Amaris herself.
She grasped the picture of her family to her chest and slid down the door, replaying the night over in her head, her parents’ bravery and the words she uttered until her voice was hoarse and her legs numb. “Mommy said swim.”
Amaris nestled her head on her knees. She no longer had a life jacket to keep her afloat, only her mother’s last words. But Amaris would swim and keep herself afloat. She’d heal Theodoric as she had Esaias, and one day she’d find her way back home.