Something in me snapped. Maybe it was the mention of the prince, the man responsible forall of this. More likely it was the mention of having PR. A normal mom would be concerned for their daughter. By outward appearances I’d run off with (or been taken by) a criminal.
I tore my hand out of her grip.
“What I put you through?” I asked, voice rising. “The last time you saw me I was dragged across a bloody body, but you’re worried about PR?” I paused, needing a breath. “What if I’d died?”
“Not here.” She lowered her voice as all around us people turned to look.
Good.
“Who fucking cares?” I yelled, gesturing at the garden. “Why are their opinions more important than my happiness?”
My mother blinked, stunned. But even still, with a wave of disappointment in my gut, I knew that didn’t equate to understanding. She was stunned by me standing up for myself, by me beingmein public, not because the words I’d said affected her.
“I really thought you needed me,” I said. “I thought I was saving you. I let that hold me hostage for over a decade. But you’re…”
She was fine.
I didn’t think that the times I’d found her passed out on the floor were preplanned, that she’d set out to manipulate and control me. But I did think she knew the effect it had on me, and felt a guiltless comfort in the control it gave her.
“It’s not about happiness,” I continued. “It’s not evenabout safety. Grayson and Abigail broke your rules and are the happiest of anyone in the family.Whyare you clinging so hard to this?”
My mother’s face dropped. For a split second I saw her. The young girl she was before she was married. Then the expression calcified.
She was smaller than me, closer to Abigail’s height, but those lost few inches took nothing away from her steely anger. When she spoke next, she didn’t lower her voice, wanting the world to hear.
“You are nothing without this family,” she said. “Without us—without me—you will deteriorate. You don’texistwithout me.”
For the first time, her words don’t hurt. I saw it so clearly now. She wasn’t talking to me, she was talking to herself. I felt weightless at the realization.
So I laughed.
My mother blinked, features twisting into a hundred different emotions. Then without another word, she spun on her heel and disappeared into the crowd.
I set my empty flute on a passing waiter’s tray?—
Vander.
I’d found him, far from the hedge maze and across the garden, heading toward the stairs. Fuck.Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I was walking before I realized, pushing through the crowd to reach him. Grim’s voice echoed in my head, telling me to stay put. But I had to dosomething. I couldn’t just let him leave.
I got to him as he neared the top step. I reached for his arm from the bottom, stopping him.
“Leaving so soon?”
FIFTY-ONE
GEMMA
“Miss Crowne.” His lips curved leonine, eyes on my hand wrapped around his. “I wasn’t planning on staying long.” As much as I wanted to drop my hold at his lecherous gaze, I knew it was leverage.
So I stepped closer, turning my voice into something sultry. “Without visiting the maze?”
“I got what I wanted. My son will finally accept his role.”
So Grim had at least found him then…Something must have gone awry, because he clearly wasn’t in the maze.
“You sure? I have questions.” I trailed my hand up his arm, adding, “But not here. Somewhere…private.”
