I looked over my shoulder into her shining emerald eyes. The tip of her nose was pink—she was barely holding back tears.“Freya agreed to let us usher in a new world without her so long as I kept Derrick safe.”
I held my breath. Freya…gave her life for her dream of liberation?
Mother stepped forward until she was close enough to grip the edge of the work table. “I know I have asked so much of you, but if you do nothing else in life, protect that sweet boy. I owe Freya. We owe Freya for what she sacrificed.”
I came to the palace to save Riyan’s life. I only took on Brietta’s dream of reformation because I thought it would free Fraleigh, but now Mother was asking me to shoulder yet another burden? ForFreya?
I swallowed the question I nearly asked. Mother was normally as affectionate as a table knife and just as sentimental as one. I had never seen her show so much emotion for anyone outside our House.
The way she sobbed at the funeral was not just an act put on for Anders. Maybe my mother knew what real love was after all.
I looked back down at the potion and slowly dragged the stirring stick along the edge of the mortar. “At least you had someone other than Father.”
She grabbed my wrist and forced me to face her. Her eyes were suddenly hard. “Serafina Helia, do not speak ill of him.”
I yanked my arm out of her trembling grip. “He sold you.”
“Because Iaskedhim to. He hated it, but Ravenwood was doomed and you could not marry Derrick for another seven years—”
“But that was not fair!”
“None of this is fair!” Her voice echoed around the small potion room. “It was not fair that Freya and I could not be together after Ashmore. Nor was it fair that I could easily have boys while she choked down Cupid’s Blooddesperatefor a son. Or that I had your father while she was stuck with Anders.”
I folded my arms and stepped back. “Father is no prize. You have no idea how much that blood bond manipulated you—”
“Fuck the blood bond.” She hardened back into the woman I knew, but a burning passion flared behind her eyes. “I love your father because he is agood man.”
She made no sense. “How can you pretend to love Father when you just said all that about Freya?”
Her voice softened, but her brow stayed hard. “Love is not a token that you pass from one person to another. It does not abide by the laws of time. Or logical sense. Or reality.”
She let out a breath. “It took time…but he wassogood to me and to your brothers...” She looked up at me and smiled. “Erik was made from duty. Endre was made…well, because it was fun. Butyou,our Little Ember, were made from love.”
The herb-scented air somehow felt heavier on my shoulders. Mother’s confessions made little sense. How could she have affectionate feelings for Freya and Father at one time? How could she still respect him after he lost control of the Baronage of Ravenwood?
How could she love him just because he was a good man?
More conflicting questions screamed through my mind, but instead of letting them out, I tightened my grip on my arms and looked at my shoes. “The potion is stirred enough.”
Mother let out a tense breath and replaced me at the work table. She reached into a small pewter casket and scooped out a tiny spoonful of fine white powder. She sprinkled the powder into the mortar and combined it with the nectar inside.
I eyed the pewter casket. “What is that?”
“Crushedlethemushrooms.” She transferred the potion into a tiny glass vial. “Or as it is known at parties, faerie dust.”
I examined the small mound of white powder inside the casket. The familiar musty smell crept into my nose and I stepped away.
Mother put a stopper on the glass vial and handed it to me. “Here, a sleeping draught for Derrick. Added a little faerie dust for pleasant dreams.”
The jar felt cold in my fingers. “He is wary of potions, you know.”
“He is familiar with my sleeping potions.” She let out a long breath but kept her mouth tight. “They are not exactly rare…Anders dosed all the wine he gave you and Sir Bloodstone. He wanted to give his son at least a couple nights of solace that you would be untouched.”
My eyes dropped to the clear potion.Thatwas why the succulent leaf smelled familiar. I thought it was mere exhaustion when I passed out after the wedding night, or when Riyan collapsed on the cobblestones after drinking three barrels of wine, but no. It was poisonagain.
How many fucking times had I been poisoned? How much damage had the Viper truly done not just to me, but to everyone else in the palace?
“Did you say you needed a book for Her Excellency?” Mother asked.
