“I promise.”
“Who will take care of me when you’re gone?” Artemis stepped back a little and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“Papa will engage a governess for both you and Daphne, I imagine.” Persephone tried to sound encouraging. Papa could afford a governess now, and Persephone hoped he would remember that one was needed. “And a companion for Athena when you are all in Town.”
“Will you visit us there?”
“Of course.”
The slightest rustling sound drew her attention a little behind Artemis. Adam stood there, watching, with a look of contemplation, mingled with the wearied impatience she’d seen on his face most of the day before. Persephone forced herself to concentrate on Artemis, knowing the girl needed reassurance.
“Persephone?” Artemis asked with a sniffle.
“Yes, my dear?”
Artemis reached out and touched Persephone’s cheek, a gesture she’d employed almost from infancy, as if she needed the human contact. “Who will take care of you?”
The lump in her throat increased tenfold, and tears suddenly pricked at her eyes. Persephone pulled Artemis back into the circle of her arms and hugged her once more.
“Will you be happy even though we are gone?” Artemis asked, her head resting against Persephone’s shoulder.
“When have you known me to beunhappy?” Persephone answered.
That gained her an extra squeeze from her sister. “Then I will be happy, too,” Artemis declared in a voice of determination. She pulled away from Persephone, with a look on her face that was so fierce it was comical. “But if I don’t leave now, I will cry again, and I do not want to cry anymore.”
“Let us promise each other not to cry,” Persephone suggested.
Artemis nodded then bit down on her still-quivering lip.
“I will see you soon,” Persephone said. “Be good for Papa.”
“I will,” Artemis promised.
“I love you, dearest.”
“I love you, too, Persephone,” Artemis answered, a betraying quaver in her voice. “You’re the . . . b-best mama I ever had.”
She wrapped her arms around Persephone’s neck once more before abruptly pulling away and running back to the waiting carriage. Persephone stood and walked slowly back in the same direction. She stood on the edge of the lawn and waved as her family disappeared under the arch of the inner wall. Only after she was certain they were out of sight did Persephone allow a tear to slide down her cheek, followed by another.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to cry,” came a male voice from not very far behind her.
Persephone had all but forgotten about Adam in her distress over Artemis.
“Artemis is crying as well, I guarantee it.” Persephone wiped the two trickles of moisture from her eyes.
“Then why make the promise?” From the sound of Adam’s voice, Persephone would guess he was rolling his eyes, though she didn’t look back at him.
“To lessen her pain,” Persephone replied. “If my sister knew I was crying, it would break her heart.”
“But you knowsheis crying,” Adam pointed out, still remaining behind her. Persephone couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a conversation with someone from that position.
“I know her better than she knows me.”
“Ah, yes. The best mama she ever had.”
Now why had Artemis gone and said that? She could have borne almost anything other than the reminder that she was to be separated from the girl whom she thought of as her own child. Persephone had raised her from the day she was born. They had never been separated.
The enormity of what she’d done by accepting Adam’s proposal suddenly hit her. She’d done this, almost exclusively, for the benefit of her family. But she hadn’t truly understood that in doing so, she would have to let go of them. She was leaving Artemis.
