“It's okay, Archer,” my mother says, trying to reassure me, but there's no reassuring this. All it does is reconfirm everything I discussed with Teddy.
I thought I hated my father, but this is a step too far, and that’s not something I thought would still be possible after everything he’s already done.
Tension burns through me, seeping into my soul as I accept what has to happen.
He's left me with no choice. When he leaves my mother and sister in the ultimatum of isolation of predatory confinement or taking my sister with him on a trip, there’s nothing else I can do but play my hand.
That threat, if it came to fruition, would devastate my mother, send her into a spiral, just like he wants, so she can relapse, also just like he wants. I don’t want that for her, but I don't want it for my sister either, because she should not be exposed to the things my father surrounds himself with.
“How about you entertain us with what's going on at the academy?” my mother says softly, trying to redirect us to better territory as she returns her attention to the teas lined up.
I take the bait, despite how much I don’t want to. “Nothing much,” I admit, struggling to entertain them as they want, and I grimace, while my sister plants her elbow on the table, leaning her cheek against her hand.
“Have you figured things out with your mate yet?” she asks, and I shrug.
“She found her powers. Or did they find her?” I ponder out loud, making my sister's nose crinkle.
“What does that even mean?” she pushes, and I drag my hand down my face before bracing my elbows on the table, crossing my arms as I inch closer, like it’s a secret.
“She's a phoenix.”
My sister gapes in surprise, her eyes wide with wonder as my mother brings our hot mugs over.
“The first of the Fifth Kingdom?” she clarifies, and I nod. “What kingdom was her mother from then?”
“Sorry?” I blurt as I rear back, confusion holding me captive as my mother clears her throat.
“I heard your father once say that phoenixes have historically been women, and she's the first of the Fifth Kingdom. Her mother must have been from another.”
I gape at her in shock as she easily offers a tidbit of information that unlocks another gate entirely.
How have none of us put that together already?
“That look on his face says he needs to go and sort it out,” Arabella muses, and I grunt.
“I’m not leaving you.”
My mother's eyes narrow as she plants her hands on the table between us. “Oh, you are. We've got this handled here. Go and do whatever it is you need to go and do.”
“Mom—” I start, but she wags her finger at me.
“That's right, I'm the parent here. Go!”
I wave my hands around at my sides, taking in the room that is grand, but lifeless and soul-destroying. “You can't carry on like this.”
“We won't. Don't worry, I'll call you tomorrow,” my mother insists, and my nostrils flare.
“Tonight,” I insist, and my mother cocks her brow at me.
“I heard you would be having a Rejuvenating Ceremony then.”
“How?” My nerve-endings fizzle as I try to figure out how she knows that, but all she does is tap her nose.
I want to press, but I don't want her to think I'm controlling like my father. I toe the line enough as it is, but something as menial as this doesn't deserve the pressure. Instead, I reach for my cup and down the lemon and ginger liquid like it's golden, before rushing around the table to wrap her in my arms.
My sister joins me, and I bask in the essence of love that is captured in such a small space.
“I’ll go and get the paints,” Arabella confirms, and my mother nods.
