Perhaps she recognizes that protective rage—she felt it with Lottie as they kissed, like she would burn the world and everyone in it if it meant keeping her safe.
“You would have given up Father?”
She winces. “If it meant keeping you safe, yes. I would’ve given anything. Even my own life.” Rage flickers in her mother’s eyes. “I wanted to kill that woman. I wanted to rip her apart. And it killed me to know that I had given up the power I needed in order to do so.” Shaking her head, she continues, “Don’t misunderstand me, I love your father with all that I am. He is my soulmate. But you, you are ourchild. You and your siblings are our entire world. We love you in an entirely different way that words cannot express, and we would both give all that we have in order to protect you.”
“I love you both so much. That’s why it hurt to leave. It hurt to write. It hurt knowing that I had gone against all that you had done for me.”
Her mother smiles. “No more of that. I am so proud of you. You did what was right for you.”
She shakes her head. “I do not know if I did.”
“Why?”
“I met someone.” Her lip trembles. “Someone who cannot love me the way I want them to, and it’s my fault.”
“Is this the man you brought here with you?”
“No, it’s—” She pauses. “How did you know I brought anyone with me?”
Her mother gives her a knowing look. In unison, they say, “Aster and Frankie.”
Of course.
“It’s not August,” she continues. “It’s the woman. Her name is Lottie. At first, I thought it merely lust, but now—” She stops herself. “Forgive me, I should not talk of such matters with you.”
“Oh, nonsense. I do have three children, you know. I am no stranger to this.”
She clears her throat. “Somehow, the woman is resistant to the curse. Not entirely immune, but able to withstand it to an extent.”
“I don’t know if that’s possible, Mari,” her mother says slowly with pity in her eyes.
Marigold crosses her arms. “I would agree with you if she hadn’t just kissed me.”
Mouth agape, her mother says, “Well, that changes things.”
Her mother stands and looks around, as if to ensure that no one is listening. Force of habit from living among such notorious gossips for so long. “Maybe the fairy tales are right.”
Marigold perks up. Her ears twitch like a cat’s. “What do you mean?”
“You know how they all end. Perhaps any curse can be broken by true love.”
“Lottie doesn’tloveme,” she says with an incredulous laugh, followed by a sharp pain in her chest. It hurts to have said it aloud.
Her mother shrugs. “Maybe not yet. But if what you say is true, if she can resist the curse and acts as though she cares for you, then maybe there is hope. She’s already doing what we thought was impossible. Who knows what could happen next?”
Breaking the curse is a thrilling thought, but one met with many logical objections. Her head is spinning wildly, her pulse quickening so much so that her vision blurs. “I think Grandmother would warn against this kind of talk. She was very adamant that the curse was unbreakable.”
“Your grandmother would want you to be happy. She would want you to follow your heart. And if there was a possibility that you could break this damned curse,” she says, touching Althea’s emerald ring that Marigold wears as a necklace, “she would want you to try.”
Perhaps her mother would think differently if she knew what happened when she and Lottie got too close. It wasn’t safe. But maybe it was worth it.
Wrapping her arms around her mother, she says, “Thank you, Mother. For everything. And for loving me, even when I didn’t deserve it.”
“You always deserve love, Mari. Always.”
Marigold quietly enters Lottie’s room, careful not to disturb her in case she is still sleeping. Luckily, she is awake, and she rushes to Marigold’s side as soon as the door closes behind her.
“There you are,” she says with relief. “I have been pacing for what feels like an eternity, but I know this place is a maze so I did not dare venture out. We have much to discuss.”
