Page 327 of Split or Swallow

She thought of how her mother had prepared her for her first night in the caves—how she’d rubbed the special oils on her thighs. At the time, Tem thought she’d need courage to have her first kiss. But perhaps her mother had wanted her to be brave in another way: brave enough to ask for what she wanted, and to settle for nothing less. Brave enough to fight for those she loved. Brave enough to do what she hadn’t.

Her mother continued quietly:

“Your father said he would still visit me, but he did not. I assumed he had chosen another.”

How wrong her mother was.

“Mother,” Tem said, and she knew what came next would change her world forever. “I met him.”

A curious expression passed over her mother’s face—one of absolute hope.

“How can that be?”

Tem had to remember that her mother wasn’t connected to the basilisk world anymore. She had no concept of anything that had happened since she’d parted ways with Tem’s father. She didn’t know about the bloodletting, about Bastian’s plan to seize power. Tem couldn’t fathom explaining everything that had happened. Instead she said:

“He was captured and imprisoned by the royals. They’re keeping him at the castle.”

Her mother’s face went slack with shock.

“He’s been imprisoned?”

“Yes. He’s…weak. But alive. The prince plans on freeing him.”

“So he…”

Her mother didn’t finish her sentence. Tem finished it for her:

“He did not choose another.”

It was a curious thing to watch her mother experience joy. It wasn’t something Tem saw often. They lived a hard life on the farm, after all. Joy reared its head rarely—on holidays, or when they exchanged gifts on birthdays. But it was fleeting—circumstantial. What she saw now was true, unencumbered happiness, mixed with deep relief. Tem couldn’t help but smile.

Love is complicated. It never goes away, only changes.

“My dear, I…must know more.”

They sat at the kitchen table. Tem told her more.

She told her what had happened since the first night in the caves—how serious things had gotten with Caspen, and also with Leo. Her mother listened, and told stories of her own.

They sat in solidarity, mother and daughter, sharing pieces of their lives with one another.

Eventually, it was time for Tem to say goodbye to her childhood home.

She sat on her bed and looked up at the ceiling. She smelled the bottle of salt spray on her mother’s dresser. And she walked through the chicken coop one last time, reveling in the fact that she may never hear a rooster crow again.

Then she and her mother stepped into the carriage and drove away.

By the time they reached the castle, wedding preparations were well underway. Even for a well-oiled machine like the royal staff, setting up a wedding in one day was a tall order. Tem and her mother dodged servant after servant on their way into the castle, finally managing to flag down a maid in the foyer.

“This is my mother,” Tem said. “Can you find her a seamstress? She needs a dress for this evening.”

“Of course,” the maid said. “And when would you like to do your fitting?”

Tem paused. She’d completely forgotten that she needed a dress too. She was the bride, after all.

“Later,” she said. “Have someone send for me.”

She gave her mother’s hand one final squeeze before ascending the steps to Leo’s bedroom. He wasn’t inside: perhaps his discussion with Maximus was still ongoing. Tem walked around his bed, looking at his books the same way she had when she’d first come here. There was The Raven and the Swan. Tem smiled at the memory of Leo reading it to her.