I grinned, knowing my niece would struggle to sleep tonight. “Oh, Asha!”
I awoke expecting to find Asha bouncing on her heels. Instead,Mama stood in my doorway, her face blotchy as she pressed a kerchief to her nose.
“Mama?”
“It’s fine, love.” She wiped her face and hurried out of the room.
I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My head felt heavy, the world still blurred as Mama’s sniffling faded. I stumbled to my feet and followed after her.
She stood in Papa’s study, his briefcase, papers, and blacksmithing tools scattered about. His straw mattress was stripped, yet the indent of his final moments still marked its center.
My body tensed. “Mama?”
Her eyes turned to me, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. “I’m okay, love. I really am.”
I wrapped my arms around her from behind and lay my head on her shoulder. She clutched my forearms, resting her cheek against mine.
“Why are you in here, Mama? You know it upsets you.”
She hesitated. “It’s time we cleaned out this room.”
My shoulders stiffened.
“Asha deserves her own space.”
“Mama…”
She tapped my forearm, and I released her from my hold. She bent and rifled through a stack of parchment. “He kept so much he didn’t need.”
I pressed my lips together.
She tucked the pile of parchment under her arm, now sorting through a stack of hardbacks. “Will you want any of your father’s books?”
Memories flooded my mind, of hours spent reading at his bedside while he lay ill, of studying texts before my shifts at theblacksmith’s, of perusing the bookshop for stories, knowing he may not live to hear their ending.
A lump formed in my throat.
Mama quieted her bustling, pausing to observe me. “We can keep them if you aren’t sure.”
I shook my head. “It’s alright,” I said. “I don’t want them.”
I stared at the tomes that had once meant everything. My chest ached, and I looked away.
“If you’re sure…” she said, trailing off.
“I am.”
I left Mama there in Papa’s room, my expression a mask. My heart couldn’t bear to dwell on what I was leaving behind with a cold finality.
I had the palace to go back to, after all.
And Asha was waiting for me.
CHAPTER SIX
That afternoon, Asha and I trekked out to the castle, her little form alternating between skipping, hopping, and suddenly walking as if her legs had gone limp beneath her.
I tugged her through the streets as couples walked arm in arm, some wearing thin ribbons on their wrist that fluttered in the breeze, signalling their engagement. Businessmen and farmers tipped their hats to us, and a few familiar faces stopped to chat. Asha’s whining cut any conversations I had short, but I didn’t mind the excuse to continue on our way, especially as the castle’s towering walls rose above the rows of brick terraced housing. The red and tan stones speckled in the sunlight as we approached up the slight incline to where the castle stood alone in the middle of the city.
