Berron froze, his hand on the door, ready to close it.
Carver shifted his weight. “The other night, when you came to help . . . I didn’t get a chance to thank you. Especially for staying with Amryn like you did. For taking care of her whenI couldn’t.”
Amryn set a hand against his lower back, a silent gesture of gratitude and support.
Berron stared at Carver, his jaw working. In the end, he said nothing before closing the door on them. But even if he was going to ignore the words, Carver felt better for having said them. And when he caught Amryn’s eyes, they were brighter than before. That counted for something.
The carriage rolled up just as Elowen joined them. She and Ford were the first to enter the carriage, and Carver was helping Amryn inside when Jayveh arrived. She had several bodyguards with her, who would be riding horses so they could better protect the carriage. Not that Carver was especially worried about an attack. His mother’s impromptu appearance hadn’t given assassins much time for planning.
Once they were all inside, the carriage lurched forward. Amryn’s tense arm brushed his. He knew she was nervous to meet his mother. He didn’t know how to convince her that Alora Vincetti, while a force to be reckoned with, was the most warm-hearted person in the entire empire.
It didn’t take long before the carriage turned into the quiet neighborhood that housed the Vincetti townhome. The properties here were all large and mostly owned by the elite of the Craethen Empire. The row of homes were painted with the last blazing light of the late afternoon sun.
The carriage rolled to a stop in front of the large townhouse. Cregon was the first one out, with Jayveh following close behind. Elowen and Ford went next, but before Amryn could follow, Carver gently caught her wrist. “You don’t need to be anxious,” he said, his thumb glancing over her soft skin. “My mother is going to love you.”
Her pale green eyes held painful nervousness. “What if she doesn’t?”
The insecurity in her voice broke his heart. “She will, sweetheart.”
“How can you be so sure?”
His hand shifted so his fingers could tangle with hers. “She’s going to love you because you’re incredible.”
She bit her lip.
Giving into the impulse, he stroked his free thumb over her lower lip, freeing it from her teeth. He leaned in and brushed her worried lips with his own.
The kiss was supposed to be quick and gentle, but it still set his blood aflame. Forcing himself to pull back, he whispered, “Trust me.”
She studied his face, more intently than he’d expected. After a long moment, she whispered, “I’m trusting you with everything, Carver.”
He couldn’t read the emotion in her eyes, but there was an awful sinking in his gut. Like he’d made a mistake, only he didn’t know what it was. He certainly didn’t know how to fix it. Something was straining the air between them, and he hated it.
Amryn slid across the bench, moving toward the carriage door. Carver followed right behind her, so he was there to see his father offer a hand to Amryn.
She hesitated before taking it.
Cregon’s smile barely faltered as he helped her down, but Carver still saw it.
Elowen, Ford, and Jayveh were already halfway up the gravel path that led to the gleaming black door. The caretakers of the home kept everything in perfect condition when the Vincettis weren’t in residence. From the paint on the door and shutters to the pink and white flowers that grew alongside the path, the townhome was inviting. The stonework was a light sandstone, and there were tall windows on each of the three floors. Carver could even make out some of the potted fronds and trees on the rooftop garden his mother loved.
Memories tugged at Carver as he stared at the townhome. It wasn’t his childhood home, but he’d spent much of his childhood here. Even when he’d grown up and opted to stay at the palace, he’d visited here whenever his mother traveled to Zagrev. Argent had accompanied him here many times. That thought brought a melancholy edge to the home. Especially when he wondered if Berron would ever step foot in it again, either.
The door swung open and a flood of people rushed out. Two boys ran for Jayveh, who let out a strangled laugh that bordered on a cry as she embraced them both at the same time.
“CARVER!”
The mingled shouts of his name were yet another surprise, but he grinned as Fowler and Wren ran for him. He braced as his two youngest siblings slammed into him, and he just managed to keep them all from tumbling to the ground. He laughed and hugged them while they spoke in an excited rush. Distantly, he heard Elowen grumble good-naturedly about being overlooked.
“Did we surprise you?” Fowler asked. The ten-year-old seemed to be bursting with energy as he clutched Carver’s arm and jumped in place.
“Completely,” Carver admitted.
Wren beamed, her words almost running together in her eagerness. “Mother didn’t even tell Father we were coming but we all wanted to see you and your new wife—well, Loreena and Leo stayed behind with Bethi and Jerome—but the rest of us came!”
Carver wasn’t surprised his older sister had remained in Westmont with her husband and two young children. Leo was Cregon’s top strategist, and he usually remained in Westmont whenever the High General was called away.
Keene wandered up to him. Saints, his little brother had gotten tall. Smiling, Keene clapped a hand on Carver’s shoulder. “Glad to see living in that temple didn’t turn you into a cleric.”
