Page 35 of Witch’s Ruin

Her black hair was streaked through with silver, and she’d put on a little weight as she’d grown older, no longer chasing two rambunctious children. He took a deep, steadying breath, just outside the little gate. “Cora?”

Her head snapped up. The years had been kind to her. She was pretty as ever, with laugh lines framing her eyes, and narrow, almost unnoticeable wrinkles along her forehead.

Her eyes narrowed, then widened. She surged to her feet, whipping soiled hands on her thick skirt. “Aleksander? Is…is that you?”

“Hi Nona.” It was a name he’d called her as a child, one he’d grown out of.

Her surprise softened, but her eyes narrowed. “If you think Nona-ing me is going to chase away my anger at you for leaving without a goodbye, then keep dreaming, child.” Heat crawled up his neck.

She strode to the gate and unlatched it, lifting her hand, placing it against his cheek. It smelled of earth, and he didn’t care that it still bore remnants of her gardening. For a long time, she’d been taller than him, but then he’d shot up like a weed. Now, he stood nearly a foot taller.

A small huff escaped her lips. “I always knew you’d be handsome, and you are, even with these scars marring your strong face. What happened to your nose, child? I hope you gave the bastard a good strike in return.”

“A demon, and yes, chopped its head off.”

“Well then.” She nodded. “Good. Now,” she dropped her hand and turned to his witch, “let me get a look at you.”

Mina stepped forward, hesitant, and Cora took her hands, looking her over. “Pretty thing, aren’t you? With intelligent eyes. Yes. Good. Aleksander has done well for himself.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Coralayne. Rixon and Jessin told me a lot about you. They both speak of you fondly.”

“They do, do they?” Cora threw Rixon a suspicious look, giving Mina’s hands a squeeze before dropping them and stepping back. “Well, they’d better. I only spent half my life trying to teach ‘em to be good boys, or, one of them anyway, since the other ran off.”

“You know I didn’t have a ch—”

“Oh, be quiet. I know all about it. Now, come in off the street. I’ll make us some tea.”

Cora turned and led them indoors. He immediately took to analyzing her home. It was several levels, shared with other town homes along the block, each with its own gated garden out front. The sitting room was warmly furnished, with plush white sofas and gold pillows. There were a few paintings on the wall, and a portrait of Jessin in his military uniform. Mina gravitated towards it, a small smile spreading across her lips.

“He’s a handsome boy,” Cora mused from the doorway into the kitchen. “Too handsome for his own good, I’d say. Doesn’t want to settle down. Doesn’t want to get married. But he takes good care of his mother. So I leave him to his diversions.”

“He’s very handsome, indeed. Though,” Mina spun around, her eyes flashing toward Rixon. “Not as handsome as my Rixon.”

Cora barked a laugh. “Rixon, hmm? I heard the rumors yesterday. Oh, yes. Also heard that father of yours announced your betrothal to Trudy Holland. But, we can discuss it in a moment. Settle yourselves. I’ll grab tea.”

They found seats beside each other. A few minutes later, Cora was bustling in with a tea tray and cakes. Silence fell, only the sound of little spoons clanking on porcelain before they sat back sipping. “Now,” Cora said, “tell me everything.”

Rixon snorted, but he did exactly that. He told her of how he’d gone to the Citadel after running away. Got paired with a witch, Ena, who later died. He left out all the details about his abuse. How he’d gone back to the Citadel, for fear of having nowhere else to go, and had found Mina.

At that, he reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together, rubbing his thumb over her skin. Cora didn’t miss the motion. “I think I’m the luckier one,” he finished. “But my Mina will insist otherwise.”

“And what of you, girl?” Cora asked. “What’s your story?”

Mina launched into an abridged tale of her past, where she’d come from, what had happened to her family, and how she’d trained in the Citadel. He listened to her talk, watching her. With each word, his chest swelled.

“She’s the strongest witch the Citadel has seen for a long, long time,” he blurted, unable to help himself. Nor could he help the huge smile that bared his teeth.

“I would have expected nothing less, from a woman who snared my Aleksander,” Cora said, fondly. “The two of you love each other, then?”

“Very much,” they both said at the same time, glancing at each other.

Cora snorted. “Well, you’ve my blessing then. Not that it counts for anything round these parts.”

“Counts a lot for me,” he found himself saying.

“It counts where it matters,” Mina added.

“And your father? I bet he’s not too keen on the matter?”