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But when she came to a stop just below the step the woman stood on, Catherine Clark, hermother, didn’t appear to notice what Amalia was wearing. She was too busy staring at her.
At Amalia, as if she couldn’t quite take her in.
As if Amalia was what mattered. As if she was the only thing that mattered.
“Here you are,” her mother whispered. “Finally.”
And it was possible they stood there for a lifetime. Maybe two, just gazing at each other. Both of them, Amalia was sure, were cataloguing the other’s face. Looking for clues or possibly recognition. As if each of them was a treasure map.
And any other time, simply standing and staring at another person would have been awkward. Uncomfortable. But not today. Not with Catherine.
My mother, Amalia thought, in wonder.
It was only when Catherine came down from her step by the door, that Amalia even noticed that she’d reached out to grip Amalia’s hand.
Had she been doing this all along? Amalia didn’t know. But she found she didn’t mind.
Just as she didn’t mind when Catherine led her out into the fields, away from the farmhouse. Straight into the stalks that had seemed like a wall to her. It seemed to Amalia that they walked forever. The corn rose all around them and seemed to whisper as they passed, but Catherine kept walking until she reached a small clearing.
When she stopped, she smiled, and Amalia found herself smiling back. As if she couldn’t help herself.
“When I was pregnant with you I used to come out here,” the older woman told her. “I would lie down on the ground, put my hands on my belly, and tell you how your life was going to be. We couldn’t see the whole sky but what we could see was blue and beautiful, and I wanted your life to feel that way. Endless possibilities, in or out of the cornfields.” She smiled at Amalia fondly. So fondly that Amalia was taken back.
Because Esme didn’t dofondly. And Amalia understood why. Esme hadn’t been raising a daughter and hoping for the best. Esme had been preparing a ruler to take over the country she had dedicated her life to.
And still, on balance, Amalia found she quite likedfondly. She wanted to return the favor. She gripped her mother’s hands and she smiled back.
“I have—Ihad—a good life,” she said, because wasn’t that what any woman would want to hear from the child she’d unwittingly given away? And the bonus was, it was true. Being away from that life for a little while had made that even more clear. “A very strange life, I suppose. But a good one. I know what people say about Queen Esme, and it’s true that she can be quite formidable. But she loves me. And though I think she would never admit it, because she can’t admit such things without appearing weak, this has all distressed her. Deeply.” She squeezed Catherine’s hands. “I have no complaints. The life I was brought up to lead was a good one. I loved my work. I adored my people. I loved the Queen, my mother. It wasn’t always an easy life, but it was a good one. And now I get to do what very few people get to do in this life, and create an entirely new one.”
She realized as she said these things that they, too, were true. That she had gotten lost in the things she’d given up and a man who couldn’t love her. When all along, it had been a distraction from the real gift, which was this. Getting to stand here, looking into the eyes of the woman who’d carried her within her body. And knowing that whatever happened next, Amalia would be the one who chose it.
If that wasn’t freedom, she didn’t know what was.
“I can’t pretend to understand the doings of queens and princesses,” Catherine said after a moment. “But it brings me great joy to hear you did not suffer. And that these recent revelations have not wrecked you.”
“They felt as if they might,” Amalia admitted. And then, emboldened by the compassion in the other woman’s gaze, continued. “I’ll confess that I used to dream about having a normal life, but that didn’t mean I actually wanted one.”
“I understand,” Catherine said, with a wry sort of smile. “There are few things on this earth more complicated than a wish granted.”
Amalia supposed she would know, and better than most.
“But we are all so lucky now,” she said, because she wanted to believe that. “Your daughter and I have two mothers each, just as you and the Queen each have two daughters. I suppose that makes us all family.”
“And you and Delaney a kind of sisters.” Catherine smiled. “For only the two of you can understand both what you’ve lost and what you’ve gained.”
“This all sounds very wise and knowing and well-adjusted,” Amalia said with a laugh. “I hope to fully believe all of it, someday.”
Catherine’s smile deepened. “I believe you will. And if I may offer a suggestion as you move from one life into a new one, as I myself have just done....?” At Amalia’s questioning look she forged ahead. “When Delaney left for Ile d’Montagne, I left the farm as I’d wanted to do since her—sinceyourfather died before you were born. I thought I might sell it to the neighbors then, but as Delaney pointed out to me, the land is yours. You get to decide what to do with it. In the meantime, I’ve been building a life for myself in town. I would tell you I love it, though standing here, surrounded by so much history and so many memories, I feel the tug to return. Though I know I won’t. My time here is done.”
“If you have advice on how to bridge two worlds, I would love to hear it,” Amalia whispered.
Catherine looked at her for a long moment, then beckoned toward the ground. Holding Amalia’s hands, she took her time kneeling down. She sat for a moment, then lay back the way she’d told Amalia she’d done long ago. Then she waited while Amalia, who had not been raised to clamber about on the ground under any circumstances, did the same.
And perhaps it was foolish to feel a sense of liberation as she stretched out in the dirt, but she did. There would be no one to comment on what she was doing here. No one to take pictures of her in dirty jeans and a muddy T-shirt, then write snide headlines about it in the morning paper.
She could simply lie there, looking up at the perfect blue sky framed by the stalks of corn as they reached for the heavens.
It was peaceful here. Protected, yet isolated.
