Neither did I.
“I’d stay if I could.” I secured my boots then stood upright, ready to walk out and leave her behind.
Her eyes weren’t angry, just full of yearning. “I know.”
I watched her sit there with messy hair and luminous eyes, light from the torches coming in through the cracks in the poorly constructed door to her cabin. With flesh that begged for my kiss, with a body that demanded my worship, she was the single most appetizing feast I’d ever seen. After a heavy stare, I walked out.
I bathed in my cabin then visited the Hall of Elders. I’d just spoken to my mother the previous evening, but now I had more to discuss. I would have asked Hanne to join me, but my mother and I had never spoken of the fight that we couldn’t ignore forever. The time to address it had come.
The maid showed me into the common room, and this time, it was just the two of us.
“Back so soon.” She was in different clothes today, dressed in all black, her hair soft and brushed from her face. The women who didn’t want to mother children volunteered to care for the elderly, and they were attentive and empathetic. “You come alone.”
“Yes.”
The silence stretched between us as I sat before her, becoming longer and thicker. The tension settled between us, both of us thinking what we refused to acknowledge.
“I stand by my approval, Morco. She lacks the confidence that I admire in a woman, but she also lacks the arrogance that I despise. She’s young, I can hear it in her voice, but her potential is so profound. She will grow with you. And because of her youth, she can have many children—if that’s what you wish.”
“My view on children hasn’t changed.” I tasted peace for the first time, but it was brief and temporary, and the end was so painful, I questioned if it was worth the joy. “Hanne is of the same mind.”
If my mother resented that statement, she didn’t show it. “Why are you here, Morco?”
“Two reasons. You know one of them.”
Her hands came together on her knee, but she refused to speak. She was a proud and stubborn woman, and I knew she wanted my apology but would never ask for it. She’d rather silently demand it with her quiet hostility.
“I was harsh and ruthless, and I’m sorry for that.”
She pressed her lips tightly together briefly then relaxed again. “You said you wished you’d never been born. That’s quite an insult after what your father and I sacrificed—his life and my sight.”
I clenched my eyes shut to still the tears I refused to allow to form. My mind shielded me from the horror that I tried so fucking hard to forget, but it could only block the memory, not the pain. “And I wish I hadn’t been alive to see it.” My chest ached from the breaths I wanted to draw. But I resisted, refused to breathe and feel and grieve. “This is not life—but a slow death.”
“I’ve lost my sight, but I’ve never lost my hope, Morco.”
Her words slapped me. I was struck with my own insensitivity.
“I’m damned to eternal darkness, but my mind still sees the light. You need to do the same.”
I was a disgrace to my parents. A disgrace to my people.
“I understand the burden you carry is immense, the burden of us all. But you must carry it with a strong spine, with a stout heart, and with an iron grip that never relents. I believe in you, son. Ibelieve in you so deeply that even if I’d known you’d resent the life I’ve given you, I would still forfeit my sight so you may lead.”
My head bowed in shame, and the guilt swept over me.
“Fight for the life you want. Fight for the life we deserve. A gift has fallen from the sky, our luck has changed like the switch of theapricum. For the first time, I feel hope. I know you do as well.”
My eyes remained on the floor because I felt unworthy of her love. “You and Father have loved me in chaos, have loved me through war and famine and despair. Put me first without reservation or resentment. The courage and dedication that requires…I don’t know if I’m capable of it.”
She was quiet for a long time. “You are.”
“I’m lesser than both of you.”
“The love for your child will make you greater, Morco.”
If our positions were switched and my son complained about the hand he’d been dealt when I had already sacrificed so much, I wouldn’t have composed myself with an ounce of grace that she possessed. I wasn’t young, a man almost in his thirties, so I had no excuse for my carelessness.
She remained quiet, letting me absorb her final words as long as I needed to.
