Page 66 of The Wolf and Her Shadows

Old Greyva recovers first, slowly reaching out and taking one of Vannaria’s hands in both of hers as she whispers, “Oh you poor child. It warms my heart to know you survived, but it breaks knowing what all you must’ve endured.”

Turning to address the rest of the villagers, she calls out, “Our long lost daughter has returned to us. That alone is enough to warrant a celebration, yet tonight we find ourselves in the presence of royalty.” A mischievous grin makes its way onto her wrinkled face. “Which means it’s time to break out the good wine. And the liquor.”

And just like that, the air around us explodes in a cacophony of excited voices all shouting over each other as they welcome me, and Vannaria, home.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Vannaria

The breath I’d been holding releases in a rush. In all honesty, the last several moments have been fairly high up on the list of the most terrifying I’ve ever experienced. I’m distantly aware there are numerous people offering me all manner of apologies and kind words of welcome alike, but my focus is now entirely on the woman next to me. And the slightly older version of her that hasn’t taken her eyes off me since I first walked over.

The elderly woman, who seems to be at least some sort of authority here, releases my hand, and just loud enough for me to hear she whispers, “When you’re ready, come find me.”

My gaze briefly meets hers and I nod. “We will.” Her small smile widens before she turns and disappears into the mass of bodies now scurrying about to prepare a celebration for Mariane’s return.

When I look back at Mariane and her mother, they have their arms around each other again, softly whispered words passing between them while they fight a losing battle with more tears. An intense surge of grief floods through me at the display and an image of our own mother flashes in our mind. Her favorite green dress pooling around her as she kneels in front of us with outstretched arms.

I quickly turn away, intending to head back to the horses.

I’m only able to make it a single step before a familiar hand latches onto my wrist. Holding back a sigh, I allow Mariane to pull me back to her side. When I see the concern on her face, I make sure to give her a reassuring smile.

“Oh my, I’m such a mess,” her mother says, wiping her eyes with the apron around her waist. “Please forgive me, Your Highness.” Mariane barks a laugh, earning an eerily familiar scowl from the older woman, who hesitates a moment before offering me her hand. “My name is Sera Valeyo, Mariane’s mother.”

Grateful that Mariane is still holding my left hand, I slip my right into Sera’s, giving it an appropriately firm shake before letting go. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sera. But, please, there’s no need for formality.” Gripping Mariane’s hand a bit tighter, I feign a carefree shrug. “Is a prince truly still royalty without a kingdom?”

When a pained look crosses both women’s faces, I instantly regret my words. This is meant to be a joyous occasion, and here I am ruining it with my callous attempt at a joke.

*I thought it was funny,* Rayne mutters, and her half-hearted attempt to make me feel better is almost enough to make me smile.

However, I’m unable to keep myself from smiling when Mariane leans over and places a gentle kiss on my cheek. A small smile, yet a smile nonetheless.

*Hmph, I see how it is.*

Ignoring Rayne, I quickly clear my throat and blurt out, “Your daughter is a remarkable woman, I’m grateful our paths crossed. And that I was able to assist her in returning here. To you.”

Both women look amused at my sudden awkwardness, with Mariane’s cheeks also beginning to redden slightly.

Realizing it’s likely best if I just stop talking altogether, I avert my gaze, allowing my eyes to drift over the nearby villagers. When I first saw them, my anxiety made it hard to focus on any details, so they'd all appeared to blend together. Which means I’m a bit shocked to notice that not all of them are human, with many being of obvious partial elven descent and several more from giantkin, orcish, and goblinoid bloodlines.

Are they all shifters? Or is this village welcoming to all sorts of people, regardless of their background? It’s a nice thought, if that were to be the case.

My attention is drawn back to Mariane when she gives a gentle tug on my hand. I must’ve missed them having another brief conversation, because Sera is now walking towards a small cabin nearby, clearly intending for us to follow her. Shaking my head, I offer Mariane an apologetic smile and allow her to drag me along as she follows after her mother.

Stepping through the doorway, it quickly becomes apparent this is the woman’s home. Which means it was likely Mariane’s before she was taken as well. I’m only given a moment to take in the cozy interior before Sera places a hand on each of our shoulders and guides us to a table in what looks to be a small kitchen. Mariane gives me a bemused look when I pull out a chair for her, causing my cheeks to burn, and once she’s seated I all but collapse onto the chair next to her, eyes downcast.

It’s ridiculous, really, how I’m so self-conscious in the presence of her mother. Yet, I find myself desperate for the woman’s approval at the same time. I believe ‘stuck between a rock and a hard place’ would be the proper term for my current predicament. If only I could trade places with–

*No,* Aren and Rayne both say in unison, dashing my small glimmer of hope.

Letting out a quiet sigh, I glance over at Mariane and whisper, “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. It seems I’m a bit out of my depths here.”

Barking out a laugh, she cups my face with both hands and forces me to meet her gaze. “You’re being ridiculous as usual, Vannaria. While seeing you so flustered is quite amusing, you have nothing to worry about. It’s only tea and a bit of conversation with my mother.” A smirk pulls at one corner of her lips. “And a celebration in your honor afterwards.”

“No.” I quickly shake my head. “The celebration is for you. Not me. I’m merely here as your partner. And I suppose your escort, but that’s hardly worth celebrating.”

“I disagree,” Sera says, placing a tray holding three small cups in the center of the table. “Regardless of how large of a role you played in her return, I’ll be forever in your debt for bringing my daughter home to me.”

Whatever other emotions I’d been feeling are quickly overshadowed by the tidal wave of guilt that crashes over me knowing what Mariane and I plan to do. And knowing that this may very well be the last time either of us see this village if those plans fail. Mariane’s expression darkens and I can only assume the same thoughts are now running through her mind as well.