Chapter 5 Dinner With A Monster Called Mother
Dinner With A Monster Called Mother
As I entered the grand dining hall, I admired the way my burgundy heels matched the marble floors. The sconces lining the pitch-black walls made eerie shadows flicker along the vast, blood-red dining table.
It was such a warm and welcoming ambiance for tonight’s dinner guest.
Said guest hadn’t arrived yet, which was a welcome reprieve. It allowed me to take my proper spot at the head of the table, then quickly down the glass of red wine set before me by one of my servants. I closed my eyes, savouring the bitterness of the wine—it tasted so much like fear.
Plus, I needed all the liquid courage I could get if I was to make it through tonight’s dinner without killing anyone.
My moment of relaxation was shattered when I heard the shuffle of all to familiar footsteps, making my eyes shoot open.
“The Queen is ready for you. Dinner will be served shortly, my lady,” said a servant, the ruffle of her skirts alerting me that she was fleeing to gather our meal.
Leaving me alone with the monster I called mother.
I fucking hated the way she walked, but I loathed myself even more for allowing the cadence of her footsteps to forever be ingrained in my brain, no matter how many times I tried to replace it with the screams of my people as I carved them up in my dungeons.
My mother hadn’t uttered a single word, yet she still had the power to make me relive a painful memory from my past.
“This should be enough food to get you through the weekend. I will return at first light in two days.” My mother’s tone was distant, just like our relationship.
Without another word, she tugged the heavy steel door shut. The only sounds were the clicking of the nine locks as my captor sealed me into my room.
I listened to her footsteps shuffle down the hall, leaving me alone once more, locked away in the tower that was my own personal prison.
My hand quaked as I reached once more for the wine glass before me, taking a hearty gulp to wash away the memory that lurched from the depths of my mind.
The now stranger to me approached my right side, her long black hair an exact replica of mine. She wrung her hands, her brows crinkling together as she looked down the table then back at me.
“Sit down and stop hovering like a damn ghost.” I waved a dismissive hand, causing her to finally drift to the chair three down from where I sat.
My mother may be heartless, but she was indeed smart.
As she pulled out her chair, the wooden legs screeched against the marble floors, making the odd tightness coiling in my chest heighten.
I chugged the rest of my wine, trying to swallow the strange feelings sparking within me.
When I slammed my wine glass onto the table, my mother jumped in her seat, stealing a sideways glance at me while a servant flew over to refill my drink.
Actually, the woman sitting before me today didn’t deserve the title of mother, not even within the confinement of my mind. So, I’d address her like the stranger she was.
Nedra shifted in her seat while she grabbed the black napkin off her plate, delicately fanning it across her lap. I continued to sip on my wine, staring at her over the brim of the glass.
She hadn’t changed much in the past eight decades, which I found very peculiar.
As if she could feel my crucifying stare, her eyes rose to mine. Her deep green eyes mirrored my own, and I hated the constant reminders demonstrating we shared the same blood. Every time I gazed upon my reflection, it was impossible not to imagine Nedra glaring back at me.
She scratched her hand, making my gaze dip to her tear-shaped birthmark. My grip tightened around the stem of my glass at yet another feature we shared.
Nedra cleared her throat, her hands ringing atop her lap.
She glanced away first, taking a small sip of her wine while doing so. “Thank you for agreeing to have dinner with me, Seera. I hope you are well.”
I scoffed into my glass, devouring another generous gulp and letting the liquor wash down the slew of insults I wished to spit at my mother—at Nedra.
It didn’t go unnoticed how she addressed me by my given name and forwent my formal title. A kernel of anger bloomed inside me, making my grip tighten once more around the stem.
I tossed a sickly-sweet smile at her. “I almost burned your letter before bothering to read it, yet my lady-in-waiting convinced me otherwise. Honestly, I’m surprised you’re still alive. Did you, too, make a deal of your own?”
Her pink lips pinched into a tight line, but she lightly bobbed her head. “I am grateful you read my letter.”
My hum floated through the room as I noted she avoided my question.
Silence stretched between us, but it was thankfully interrupted when one of my servants brought the first course out.
The tension shattered with each clatter of the metal trays clinking onto the table before us.
A woman servant raised the lid, revealing a leafy salad with an assortment of whatever vegetables could be grown this season.
Although I despised the majority of food spread before me, I had no right to complain.
After all, it was my fault we struggled to grow crops. None of the mortal lands were the same after the bargain was sealed, and I was the only one to blame.
Nedra took a small bite of her salad, and I followed suit, but not before chugging another glass of wine.
I was perfectly fine with getting belligerently drunk tonight and ignoring my mother—For Serpent’s Sake—ignoring Nedra for the entirety of our meal.
I glanced at the grand clock, at the beautiful depiction of two beautiful intertwining serpents circling one another, their mouths opened and fangs bared at the other.
The symbol could be found all throughout my palace, and I often found myself looking for it to comfort me when my snakes were resting.
The ticking of time slowly passing by was the only noise filtering through the dining hall, besides the intermittent crunching from us consuming our salads.
I clenched my jaw on my next bite, suddenly regretting subjecting myself to such a miserable dinner. However, I couldn’t help but ponder why my mother reached out to me after seventy-five years—call it morbid curiosity of wondering what my captor had to say for herself after all this time.
Yet now, coming face-to-face with the monster I fled from decades ago felt like a grave mistake. Maybe I could leave early . . . I glanced at the clock once more, deciding to give Nedra another fifteen more minutes before feigning ill and escaping to my late night meeting with my bodyguard.
“So, how is it living in the Kingdom of Phantamos?” she inquired between bites.
“Queendom.”
“Pardon?” Nedra’s fork stilled in her hands.
“It’s the Queendom of Phantamos now, and I like it much better than being trapped alone in a tower.” I instantly regretted the truth that spilt from my lips, but it begged to be released after being swallowed for decades.
I didn’t balk, not even when Nedra’s lips slightly parted and started to quiver. Instead, I ignored her, going back to consuming my meal while discreetly watching her out of the corner of my eye as she took a small sip of wine.
“You don’t miss Ashivire at all?” Her quiet words tore through the air like an arrow aimed straight for my heart.
I wanted to scream at such a ridiculous question, but I scoffed as I worked to grip the slippery reins controlling my never-ending anger.
“What’s there to miss? Those lands have been in ruins and ash since the day I came into power.” I looked her dead in the eye. “But they never were a place full of happy memories before that day, were they?”
Her eyes brightened as they grew watery, prompting her to quickly look away and stare into the crimson liquor inside her glass instead.
“You don’t miss the safety of those lands? I’ve heard about the attempted coups, Seera.” Her gaze lifted toward mine. “I worry about you.”
With a dramatic groan, I rested my elbows on the table.
I never gave a shit about royal manners anyway.
“Spare me your sympathy, Nedra.”
She flinched as if I physically slapped her by using her given name, causing the scent of fresh rainfall to flood the dining hall.
How dare she act all timid and concerned now? Where was this version of her when I begged for it? When she locked me away from the world, depriving me of a normal existence?
She deserved to feel every drop of sorrow dripping off her slender figure.
I gestured at the extravagant room. “As you can see, I am much better off here. I’d take attempted coups and a lack of safety any day if it meant never living within the confinement of four cramped walls.”
My venomous words hit their mark, making tears drip down Nedra’s face.
“I did what I thought was right. You don’t understand how much my actions pain me. I wish I could reverse time and do it all differently.” Her voice broke as she dabbed her crocodile tears with her napkin.
“Well, you can’t. I have to live with the decisions I’ve made as queen, and so do you.” I tipped my glass to my lips, the fury inside me growing with each sip.
Her glassy eyes flew to mine, the skin beneath them growing puffy from all her fraudulent crying.
“I never wanted this life for you. If I knew my actions would push you to make such a dangerous decision, I would take it all back in a heartbeat. You can hate me all you want, for I deserve your animosity, but please do not forget who you really are—who you are pretending to be today is nothing like the sweet girl you once were.”
I slammed my glass onto the table, making the metal trays rattle.
“No one is pretending here besides you. I might have made a bargain rendering me soulless, but you left me with no other choice.” I rose, shoving my seat with such an intensity it toppled over.
“I am exactly who I was always meant to be.”
Nedra dropped her gaze, her shoulders shaking as she fell into another fit of sobs.
She looked so small curled in on herself, and that image nearly stole my breath, bringing back such awful memories .
. . back in the tower, there wasn’t a night that passed where I didn’t cry myself to sleep, curled up in a ball, wishing for someone to save me.
Isolation drove me to madness—it made me seek out the Serpent King and bargain away my soul.
I glanced at the clock.
Her fifteen minutes were up.
“I have a meeting to get to. Feel free to stay and finish your meal.” I threw my napkin onto the table, glaring at my mother—at Nedra—for what I hoped was the last time.
She lifted her gaze, her lips pouting with disappointment. Her weak nod was the last thing I saw before spinning on my heel and heading for the exit. I was almost out of the dining hall, but her parting words made my feet stick to the floor.
“Happy Birthday, Seera.”
I stiffened before striding out of the dining hall.
My birthday . . . I had completely forgotten it was today.
Shortly after turning immortal, I stopped celebrating, for I looked the same with each passing year. The only thing that changed as time withered away was the festering numbness sinking its fangs into my chest like a venomous serpent.
I dragged a finger against the void inside me as memories of my past threatened to drag me under.
I was only twenty-five when I escaped from my mother’s tower and fled to Morotis, to the caves of doom and death—to the home of the Serpent King.
After my bargain was complete, my birthday ceased to exist. Instead, it shifted into the anniversary of something I always dreamed of: being the most powerful being in all of the human lands.
I braced a hand against my sternum at the mere thought of the man I despised, finding it harder than normal to catch my breath. My legs grew heavy as I rounded the corner to my chambers, the taste of my mother’s sorrow still coating my tongue.
The scent was suffocating me, and I clawed at the high neckline of my gown while gasping for air.
I quickened my pace, nearly running now as I grew more desperate to get out of this dress and underneath my bodyguard.
I needed to feel something beyond Nedra’s sorrow, beyond the numbness festering inside me like an oozing sore.
So, I ran down the halls and coped with my struggles the only way I knew how to.
I ran from my problems, from my past, from the memory of the girl who died at the young age of twenty-five.