Page 85 of Burn of the Everflame

“See that you do. Something nutritious. She needs to rebuild her energy.”

“I can answer for myself,” I said crossly. “Luther isn’t my keeper.”

“Being taken care of doesn’t mean being kept, Diem,” she lectured. “You’re the first to offer, but you never accept it yourself. I am your mother, and Luther is your . . .” She glanced between us. Whatever she saw compelled her not to finish. “Let us help you.”

I looked away, not liking how precisely her words had cut. “The only thing I need help with is keeping everyone in Emarion from killing each other.”

“We can help with that, too. I assume Luther has already filled you in on everything that passed while you were away?”

“We, um, haven’t had a chance to talk,” I hedged.

She gave a knowing smile. “Ah, yes, of course. First night alone together in so long.”

My cheeks went hot. “Mother, stop.”

“You’re two grown adults. Sex is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Mother.”

“And Luther and I have put aside our differences.” She gave him a gentle, if a bit awkward, pat on his arm. “I’m happy for you both.”

I slapped a hand over my face.

Luther wisely changed the subject. “You should call a meeting of your advisors this morning. I’d like to ask my cousins what happened here while we were gone. I imagine they’d like to hear the same from both of us.”

My stomach roiled at the thought of the questions my friends would ask, the truths I might have to admit—or the lies I’d have to tell.

“We’ll have time to catch up later,” I said. “I want to visit Mortal City and check on things there.”

“As do I,” my mother said.

I tensed. “I think it’s best if I go alone.”

“No,” she and Luther said in unison.

“I’ve been away for nearly a year,” my mother argued. “Besides, my presence there will help. The mortals may not trust you, now that . . .” She glanced at my Crown.

“Auralie’s right,” Luther said. “No one knows you were trapped on the island. The Crowns claimed you were in hiding with the rebels. The mortals here may feel you abandoned them. Auralie can attest to the truth. But you both need a guard.”

My mother and I responded with loud, matching scoffs.

“Luther, you can’t really believe⁠—”

“I’m more of a danger to them⁠—”

“This is our home, we hardly need⁠—”

“Honestly, I dare them to try⁠—”

“We walked those streets for years⁠—”

He raised a hand to stop us. “Many times I believed someone too weak, too afraid, or too friendly to be a real threat. Time and again, I was proven wrong. I won’t allow either of you to suffer the same mistake.” He looked at me. “Alixe or Taran can accompany you instead, if you want . . . space.”

My mother’s exasperated look turned to one of interest. Her eyes swooped over us, taking in our awkward distance, my silence, the way neither of us quite looked directly at the other. A wrinkle appeared on her brow.

“It’s fine,” I blurted. “Let’s be quick. In and out. The last thing I want to do is cause a scene.”

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