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She hesitated. “It’s probably nothing.”
“Yet it brings you out here each evening.”
My mother pressed another kiss to Livia’s head. “A memory stirred at the sight of it, one I’d long forgotten. It seemed so insignificant at the time.”
“Have you seen a crimson moon before?” Rare, to be sure. Crimson moons were more drama for tales than they were reality. Still, myths stemmed from somewhere, I’d simply figured crimson moons were too rare to think on.
“I’ve never witnessed one,” she told me, “but the storyteller, Greta, the one who aided us with the curses, she spoke of one once. At your birth gathering. You know, a time when infant royals were greeted properly behind the safety of their gates.”
I scoffed and shook my head. “Livia is destined to change worlds, why not get her started on her adventures early?”
Finally. A grin split over my mother’s face. “Anyway, that was the first time I met the storyteller. Even before the raids the western regions were hardly thought of as a kingdom. More a slab of soil. Apart from Greta and a man who joined her—her cousin, or brother, I think—only a few inner council members of the mad king came.”
My parents had always been diplomatic with the tiny Western world, but even with the small trade and inclusion before the raids, the royal courts of the West were a mystery no one seemed to want to touch. Perhaps because the West rarely stirred mischief, they were never worth a raid or true alliance? Since Elise and I had claimed the throne of Etta, what little effort I’d placed toward the West had only been for Calista’s sake.
I never truly knew why stronger bonds weren’t joined with the broken cities. In truth, the Western Kingdom was largely forgotten in my mind. As though thinking too much on it was a challenge. Strange to admit, but now that it was in my head, it was true. Hells, only now did I realize I didn’t even know the damn king’s name. Something I ought to know, yet . . . not even a flicker of a care to do so took hold.
I shook my head, irritated by the strange ache that came when I thought on the West’s oddities too long. “What happened with the enchantress?”
“They all seemed so uneasy, like they’d stepped into a fairy tale and didn’t know how to escape it. We celebrated you for several nights, but one evening I found Greta and her companion outdoors, staring at the sky.
“We talked of nothing for a moment, then she looked at me and said, ‘I do hope the beauty of this place is not changed too greatly when the crimson night arrives.’”
My chest tightened. “She called it a crimson night?”
“I’ve witnessed the way fate and prophecy take hold, Valen. Her fury was in play when she spoke of fate’s gifts, how we were part of those gifts, how the babe I still had in my arms would be a great leader under the red moon.”
A muscle pulsed in my jaw. Pressure gathered over my shoulders like a weight pressing down with each word.
“At first, I thought she was merely being complimentary and embellishing a bit like a court fool, but she went on.” My mother squared her shoulders to me, still rocking my daughter, but a new glisten sparkled in her eyes. “She spoke of an enemy who rises with a crimson moon with the power to claim every gift of fate. She told me to raise my children to be strong, to face adversity with valor and viciousness.”
“Sounds a little mad, Maj.”
“Do seers and fate workers ever sound coherent?”
I tilted my head to one side. Fair point. “Who is this enemy?”
“She called him darkness, that was all.”
“And how would such a thing be defeated?” I grinned. In my head I settled on the absurdity of the enchantress’s claims. If I didn’t dismiss them, I’d think too long on how strange the world felt. How I’d battled my own unease for weeks.
“Believe me or do not,” my mother said tersely. “But she did say the darkness is only defeated if the final truth is found.”
“A final truth. Vague and impossible to follow like all fate prophecies.” A cool breeze fluttered the blossoms. Livia whimpered in my mother’s arms. I scooped her up and rested her head to my shoulder. “Maj, we did not fight and sacrifice all we did, we did not restoretwofated kingdoms, only to have some darkness steal it away.”
She smiled gently and squeezed my arm. “I’m sure you’re right. It was just a little unsettling to see a true crimson moon.”
We spoke of brighter things, my mother made me repeat a list of all the ways I would keep her granddaughter and Elise safe, then insisted I get the babe indoors. I complied, and only when I was inside the first royal chamber did I drop my false smile.
“Stop. Stealing. My baby.” Elise stepped around the corner dressed in a diaphanous sleeping gown that left more than one reminder it had been too long since my mouth had tasted that skin. She jabbed her fists into her hips.
With care, I laid Livia into the cradle beside our large bed. “You’re asking too much, my love.”
Elise snorted and wrapped her arms around my waist. “What’s troubling you?”
“Gods, woman. Can I hide nothing from you?”
“Never.” Elise pecked my chin, then arched a brow, waiting.
