Page 127 of Ashborne Forged

She smiled and brushed off my jacket with one hand. “I know it. All of it—the death of the king. The upheaval. The men in hiding. All of it.”

I could barely breathe. “You’re too late, Mother. I told you, I already uncovered—”

“And your instincts have served you again. You were right to come to me. I will help. I only wish we could work together. Why would you deny a freely offered gift? You know I hold far more in my hands than your precious queen. You know I want to see you raised up. You know that.”

“Do I?”

She tilted her head and her lips thinned. “No one has offered you more. No one has tried to place more at your feet, or loved you more than—”

I caught her wrist as she lifted her hand to comb her fingers through my hair as she used to do when I was child. My heart flinched, but I never dropped her gaze. Let her see the cold fury in my eyes.

“You tied strings to a child so you could make a king dance.” I leaned closer and stage whispered. “While we’re speaking truths, it would behoove you to remember, I’m no longer twelve. I can now say with some authority, that isn’t love.”

The light in her eyes never died, but her face went tight. “And pinning a woman and a child between the horns of two bulls is? My big, grown up boy—man that you are, are you even capable of love? You’ve destroyed every person you ever held dear, Vane. Do you really trust yourself to carry a helpless woman and child alone?”

Shrieking, chittering, chaotic terror squeezed the air from my lungs.

She felt me stiffen, and pressed her advantage, leaning closer, dropping her voice to give us intimacy. “You’ve done well—so well!—to get this far without me. But you were returned to me for a reason. We both know it.”

“I don’t need your—”

“Vane, please. I want to help you. This house speaks of the dead that I put in the ground for you. Let me help you take everything that belongs to you, and become everything you should be.”

I shuddered. She tugged her wrist slowly from my grip, and slid her fingers into my hair, pushing it back from my eyes.

My stomach churned. But she was enthralled, so I let her continue.

“It’s been hard carrying that by yourself. You don’t have to do it anymore,” she whispered.

When she’d cleared the hair from over my eyes, I stared at her, searching her as if I yearned for answers only she knew. And she smiled.

“Vane—”

“No.” I spat the word and jerked from her touch, darting aside when she reached for me. “No!”

But I let the quaver of unease underline my conviction.

Let her hear a question in my tone as I fled her presence.

Let her believe she’d shaken my resolve.

Let her believe I was afraid.

That last part, at least, was true.

41. Please, Come

~ GRACE ~

The days that followed our arrival at Breckon’s estate were harrowing. And yet, oddly, boringly predictable. I quickly developed a routine. It was my only guard against the claustrophobic shriek of being locked in my rooms.

In the mornings, I took breakfast alone with four strong men standing one at each corner of the room. Breckon’s man brought me the herbs and the knife Jade had switched out for my harness blade. I made a great show of cutting them into lines at north-south, then east-west, and swallowed them with water. Then I returned to my chambers to dress for riding with the help of a maid.

I rode with the same four men on their animals, bracketing me.

It stole all the joy of being outdoors, but at least they didn’t speak, and allowed me to choose the route. Sometimes, I could look to the hills and mountains beyond them and imagine I rode alone.

On my return to the house, I remained in my riding habit for lunch.