Thirty-four #2
‘I refused. The pain of losing you was too great. I knew I would never again carry a child that might be stolen from me. I told them that as I knew my true mate, I could never lie with another and I thought that was the end of it, but… not even three months later, Zolif disappeared.’ A contortion of pain flitted across her features.
‘They told me she had been killed by a raiding party, but in my soul, I don’t believe it.
She was an obstacle, so they eliminated her.
It was a punishment for not obeying blindly. ’
Ariadnne released a breath. That agony… If anything like that happened to Nieve…
‘I’m sorry.’
The words didn’t seem enough. Her heart had come full circle, and now the depth of feeling she felt for the woman before her made it hard to breathe.
‘The pain of losing your mate never gets better,’ Melixanthe said quietly.
She thumbed the carving of Dianea once more.
‘I would give anything to see her one last time… I had to protect you from that pain, when I realised—’ She fixed Ariadnne with dark eyes full of unfathomable grief, then shook her head.
‘Back then, I had nothing, but you were still part of the Guild, still existed, so I stayed.
I might not have been allowed to see you, but I could be nearby.
I threw myself into training, and battle, and I won accolade after accolade.
The Council soon forgot my transgression and finally, after a great victory, they granted me the position of general and said they would grant me a boon. Land, riches, I was just to ask.
‘So, I asked to be your handler.’
Ariadnne’s eyes widened, everything clicking into place. No wonder they questioned her loyalty.
‘Believe me, they weren’t happy, but I’d backed them into a corner.
I argued that as general I should command the most prestigious dragon, that I could be impartial and never let you know that I was your mother.
I had mastered the air of dispassionate commander and convinced them that all that mattered to me was position and power.
‘Ariadnne, I have tried so hard to keep up appearances.’ Melixanthe shifted on the sofa, clenching and unclenching her fists before flattening her palms against her thighs. ‘I have stuck to my end of the bargain and never let them believe me to be anything but the general they wanted me to be.
‘I have also tried to be the best parent I can be for you, in my limited capacity. The Council can’t know that I’ve told you, Ariadnne. Laelin—’ Her voice cracked, and she sat on the edge of her seat, hands still flat on her legs as she watched Ariadnne digest her words.
Ariadnne tried to pull her scattered thoughts together—struggling to get past the world-altering concept that she had been wanted. She’d not been sold to the Guild for profit as she’d believed. No, she’d been taken from a loving family.
Her name was Laelin. It sounded… right.
‘Do you understand why I have to protect you and Nieve?’ Melixanthe asked.
‘I know what it is to find your mate, but I also know what the Guild is capable of, and what they will stoop to if they feel someone is in their way. What they might do if they know you care about someone outside of their control. You are too obvious, Ari, half the company probably knows. It is only a matter of time until the Council hears a rumour. This way you can keep your relationship a secret and at least keep each other alive.’ She let out a breath, as if a weight had been released, smiling bitterly.
‘They have already been raising their concerns that I have not been controlling you adequately… leaning on me to be stricter.’
Ariadnne bowed her head. ‘I’m sorry…’ she said, and she meant it. She had behaved terribly, ruled by her dragon’s rage. Grief filled her for the life her mother had led, her loss and what she had done to be near her daughter. To be near her.
With a tentative motion, Melixanthe reached out a hand. Two heartbeats passed, and Ariadnne reached out to place her slender palm in her mother’s calloused one—allowing Melixanthe to pull her to the couch.
‘Being your handler, and parent, has been an honour more fulfilling than I ever could have imagined. You never need to apologise for your frustration at this life. It is my fault you are in it.’
Ariadnne’s eyes searched her face. How had she not seen it? Her mother’s strong chin, so like her own. The set of their eyes, the honey-kissed skin, the dark hair that betrayed a common, southern heritage.
Ariadnne suddenly leant forwards to embrace her, burying her head in her shoulder as Melixanthe’s form stiffened.
Her mother, trying to protect her. It was the missing piece to their relationship.
All these years and her mother had been right there, watching over her.
A complicated duet of relief and grief caught in her throat; all those years, wasted.
Melixanthe’s breath caught, and she awkwardly wrapped her arms around her with a choking gasp, Ariadnne pulling her tighter until her earthen cardamon scent filled her nostrils, painfully familiar.
‘Wait…’ Ariadnne pulled back. ‘What of my father? Do I know him?’
Melixanthe looked down, shifting slightly. ‘Yes. But that part is not mine to tell.’
‘Please.’
Melixanthe’s brows drew close as she deliberated. ‘Well, you do keep asking after him.’ She threw her a sideways look.
Ariadnne went cold. ‘No… not Sol?’
‘That’s how I know he wouldn’t mean me harm, Ari.’ Melixanthe sighed. ‘We have history, and we care about each other, in our own way. I know you’ve been worried about him, but you’ve not needed to.’
‘I’m not so sure about that Meli… Mother.
’ Ariadnne rolled the word around her mouth, trying it for size; it sounded like a bell to her ears, heralding a new dawn of possibilities.
She didn’t miss the way the word made Melixanthe’s fingers tremble—the sight squeezing her heart—and she pulled her mouth tight, knowing Melixanthe wouldn’t like what she had to say.
‘Perhaps Sol feels that as he also played a part in making me, he deserves to be general as much as you.’