“And we have missed you,” my mother replied fondly. “We were not expecting you this evening. I would have kept the stew on the fire for you.”
“I’ll heat it up later,” I assured her with a shrug. I was not sure I could have eaten with the way my gut churned. “The visit was a last minute decision,” I continued. “There have been some changes in my life recently. I had the time to spare and thought it only right that I pay my family a visit.”
My mother gave me a peculiar look, as if she already knew my visit came with both good and bad news. “Changes?”
“Perhaps we should sit.” I moved toward the cozy sitting room, eager to warm myself by the fire and wrap up in one of my mother’s handmade blankets. I removed my cloak as I went, hanging it on the hook with practiced ease.
“No time for sitting, Harkin, we have to spar!” Adina clung to my arm, batting her eyelashes. Adina’s favorite pastime was to practice her swordsmanship with the little wooden blade I had once gifted her.
I tapped my finger on her upturned nose. She looked so much like our father. “I know you have evening chores to do, Dina, and it will be time for bed after that. We will spar tomorrow, I promise.”
Adina pouted, but I could tell it was in jest.
“Fine,” she drawled, dragging out the word exaggeratedly. Then, in a mocking voice, “I’ll leave the grown ups to talk privately.”
My mother and I both laughed at that, then shooed her on her way.
“What lays heavy on your heart, my love?” Yvett asked, brushing my hair back from my brow with motherly concern.
“I have many things to share with you… I would ask that you let me explain before you make any judgments.” I looked down, forcing her hand to fall away.
Yvett flicked me on the shoulder with mild annoyance. “You think I would judge you? You are my son,always.”
I nodded, hoping that her words held true. “These past years, I was under the employ of Prince Claudian. That much you know, but I have not told you the type of jobs I performed for him or why.”
To paint the full picture, I knew I must start at the beginning, so I told my mother about that terrible night when Adina had been so sick. How I had felt the burden of manhood too young, in the aftermath of my father’s death. I told her of the night my life had changed forever, the way my life had been pinned—ground down—beneath the boot of a crooked man.
Silent tears ran down her face, and she opened her mouth to speak, but I held up a hand. I needed to tell her the rest before my nerve crumbled into dust.
I drew in a steadying breath before continuing. “I am not proud of this, but I acted as a mercenary for the prince. The assignments he dealt to me were not honorable. I have done many things that I regret, but I did it to provide for you and for Dina. I did it because Claudian threatened to harm you both if I did not comply. I felt as if I did not have any other choice.”
She nodded, sniffling through her tears.
I did not say the words which would label myself as a killer—a monster—but I knew that she heard them in the gaps between the silence.
“What changed?” she asked, rubbing my shoulder comfortingly as she had when I was a young child in the throes of a nightmare.
“I met a woman who was so strong and brave and beautiful that I could not complete the job assigned to me. I risked everything to protect her. We decided together to try to change Acsilla for the better. And now, King Tarquin is dead and Prince Claudian is imprisoned in the palace dungeon.” I did not know how to speak the next words without it hurting—tearing at my lungs.
My mother emitted a surprised sound, her eyes widening at the news. “Princess Ayla will be crowned queen?”
“Seren—the woman who changed my path—will be queen. She is Tarquin’s daughter, raised in Ordelés without any knowledge of her ancestry. Now that she has returned, Ayla has forfeited the crown to her.” My knuckles turned white as I squeezed my fingers into fists.
My mother eyed me keenly. She had always been so good at reading my every expression.
“This hurts you,” she observed, “because you love her.”
“It does not matter how I feel. The council knows who I am and the things I have done. They will never approve of the match. Her life is no longer just her own, and I will support her always, but that is all it will ever be.” A tear rolled over the curve of my cheek, and she caught it, brushing it aside.
“Does she feel the same?” Yvett’s voice was quiet and solemn.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter,” I repeated, refusing to let her lead me down this path. Down it lay only heartbreak far worse than the fissures I felt already. I changed the subject, rubbing at my reddened eyes. “Can you possibly forgive me for all that I have done?”
She laughed, but it was a sad sound. “Harkin, my love, there is nothing to forgive. I will be honest, I have heard whispers of the things you have done. Perhaps not the full extent, but I am not daft.I know that it is your sister and me that have been in the forefront of your mind, even as you were away. I only regret not having seen how difficult this has been for you. Canyouforgiveme?”
I shook my head, but I could not help the relieved laugh which slipped from my upturned lips. I pulled her into an embrace, breathing in her familiar scent. Her words fell from my mouth, “There is nothing to forgive. I love you.”
“I love you, my son.” Her voice was warm and welcoming, and soon she was bustling through the room, heating my dinner though I assured her I would handle it.
