Page 67 of The Wolf and Her Shadows

Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I force a smile. “There are no debts between us. As I’ve said, it was my honor to accompany her on her journey.”

Sera seems to be about to say more, but Mariane cuts her off by clearing her throat and gesturing to the empty chair across from us. “Mother. Please sit.”

With a look of concern, her mother does as requested, reaching out and grabbing one of Mariane’s hands while she uses her own free hand to distribute the cups of tea. Her furrowed brows wrinkle further, joined by a frown when she notices the way her daughter’s hands are shaking.

She glances at me, but I busy myself taking a sip of tea, making sure to keep my expression neutral.

This isn’t my story to tell.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Mariane

My entire body is trembling now. I’d done my best to keep some semblance of composure while we were surrounded by the other villagers, but now that it’s just the three of us… Knowing what I have to tell my mother… I take a long sip of the warm tea in my hands, hoping I can prolong the painful conversation just a moment longer.

Ever observant when it comes to my emotions, Vannaria wraps her arm around my shoulders and places a soft kiss on my temple before whispering, “It’s alright, Your Majesty. Take your time.”

The same words Kali had said to me when I’d been hesitant to enter the village earlier. And just like it was then, it’s all the motivation I need to be able to move forward.

Gripping my mother’s hand tighter, I take a deep breath and ask, “Did Stephan tell you what happened the day I was taken?”

She visibly swallows, then nods. “He was so distraught it took him a while to calm down enough to. But yes, he did. He said the two of you were sparring in the clearing you loved hiding in, and that your father, along with six of the men that had originally left with him, surrounded you.” She darts a quick glance at Vannaria. “And that Mielviroth said that since you were no longer a child, you would finally be of some use to him.”

A low growl rumbles in my throat and I’m fairly certain the sound is echoed by the elf beside me as well. Doing my best to keep my anger towards my father at bay, at least for the moment, I grit my teeth, and nod. “Yes. That’s exactly what happened, and what he said. Although I didn’t know what he meant by those words until a few years later.” I tighten my grip on the cup in my hands to the point I fear it might break. “Apparently, his intention had been to keep me locked away until Prince Garin came of age, so he could offer me to him as a way to gain more favor with King Warvin.”

My mother sucks in a breath, likely realizing where the rest of the story is heading. Or at least parts of the story.

Not ready to talk about my experience with the cruel prince I’d been forced to let touch me, I turn my gaze to the prince who I chose to let touch me, and say, “The same king who my father had apparently made an alliance with twenty years ago. Seems King Warvin had offered him a fancy title in exchange for his help during the Fall of Amzarath.”

The cup that had been in my mother’s hands clatters to the table, and the tea that had been inside it spreads out across the table in a fairly decent imitation of blood spilling out of a corpse.

She covers her mouth with her free hand in an attempt to stifle a gasp, eyes rapidly darting between Vannaria and I as she whispers, “No. It can’t be. Is that… When they left, they’d all said it was because they’d been offered an opportunity they couldn’t refuse. Some important job in a big city on the other side of the continent.” Her eyes begin tearing up again. “But to be responsible for… How could they?”

It’s Vannaria that reaches out to comfort my mother first, leaning across the table to place the hand not clutching mine on her shoulder. “Know that you and the rest of the people here have no blame in what those vile men were a part of. The king’s lies about what happened that day are convincing to all that hear them, as is their design. Even I was unaware of either man’s involvement until a few days ago.”

“Now that you mention it, how did Slivo find out?” I ask, brows furrowing. “I only just realized I forgot to ask when you first told me.”

“Seems a few of your father’s men had come through Girnir a couple years ago. Looking for you. Got a bit too in their cups at the tavern and Slivo overheard them talking about it.” Sitting back in her chair, she narrows her eyes, tightening her grip on my hand to the point of nearly becoming painful. “Bragging, more like.”

“I’m so sorry, Vannaria,” my mother whispers, wiping away fresh tears. “To the both of you.”

Vannaria nods, holding my gaze while I do my best to swallow down my own rising emotions at knowing this conversation is only going to get more painful. Taking a deep breath, I grip my mother’s hand tighter, unable to look at her as I say, “Unfortunately, that isn’t the extent of the atrocities my father committed.”

“Perhaps you would like to wait to tell the rest until after the celebration?” Vannaria asks, sensing my obvious discomfort.

“No.” I shake my head, the steadiness of my voice surprising even myself. “I fear it will only eat away at me more the longer I hold it in.”

Leaning over, she places a feather-light kiss on my forehead and whispers, “As you wish, Your Majesty.” Just like every other time she’s called me that ridiculous nickname, my chest fills with warmth.

A warmth I desperately cling to as I turn back to face my mother, and her already pained expression. “The first thing my father did when we arrived at his estate in Cyrel, was have two of his men hold me up against a wall with knives to my throat while he locked my magic away. I’m not sure how he did it, or what spell he must’ve used, or from where. But the most I’ve been able to do since is make a bit of grass grow.”

“And immediately pass out afterwards,” Vannaria mutters under her breath, almost causing me to chuckle.

Almost.

My mother’s surprised gasp is about what I’d expected from her, along with the tears now trailing freely down her cheeks.

Doing my best to ignore her pain, I continue forcing myself to reveal, and relive, mine. “At first I believed it was so that I wouldn’t be able to escape. And perhaps it was that as well, but when I was first introduced to Prince Garin, I found out the true reason.” I close my eyes, lowering my voice to a whisper. “He didn’t want me to be able to hurt him. To defend myself when–”