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I cried so very hard. Mother did, too.
“I hadn’t been informed of what happened until they caught you,” Mother said. “The knights could have harmed you, or you could have fallen from your horse. Seasons, I want to strangle you!”
“I’m sorry,” I wept. “I’m s-sorry, Mama.”
“I’m infuriated and exhausted from pleading your case to Spring. Trust me, I’ve a score to settle with you about it, but right now, I’m only grateful that you’re well.” She retrieved a handkerchief from the dressing table, wiped my eyes, and spoke calmly. “What happened, Briar?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know where to start.”
She wadded the cloth into a ball and coaxed me to the bed. We climbed in, the linens and pillows caressing our cheeks. I told her everything. I told her about befriending Eliot, wanting and having Poet, protecting Nicu, and returning to the place where Father died.
Although I choked up a few more times, flushed at other times, I refused to censor myself. I explained why I’d pushed Mother away. I told her that I loved her, which pulled more tears from her eyes.
When we finished, we drifted into a watery type of calm, transparent and tranquil.
This life held room for many heroes. However, I had missed the signs about Mother. I did not remember her face after Father died, the things she said, how she’d coped without him or without me to mourn alongside her. Too gripped in my own grief, I hadn’t paid attention. I had failed to recognize this heroine who recovered and ruled.
Bravely, she had survived it all.
“I thought bringing you here would be helpful,” she admitted bleakly. “I thought facing the past each year would help us heal, but it only scarred you more. It was wrong of me.”
“No. I shouldn’t have avoided you,” I argued. “I lamented not being home where I could make a difference. But in truth, I was afraid. If truly given a chance, I would have come with you anyway. I wanted to see Eliot, and I wanted to be near you, although it hadn’t seemed that way.”
Mother nodded, a warm light banking in her eyes before sharpening. “What about the jester? Did he coerce you?”
“He didn’t do anything I didn’t want,” I stressed. “He’s important to me.”
“It looked as if there was a lot more than mere fondness between you. The things you’ve done and said, you wouldn’t do for just anyone.”
“I would do it again. And he only wanted to protect his son.”
Bringing up Nicu softened Mother. “I encouraged you to embrace Spring, but I didn’t mean like this. He may be a father, but he’s also a seducer and a trickster, and—”
“I know everything that makes us different. It doesn’t change how I feel.” My next words rose from a place deeply entrenched like roots. “I’m in love with him.”
Mother’s eyes broadened, a thousand emotions flitting through her pupils—shock, empathy, tenderness, protectiveness, worry, and understanding—before they settled on a sorrowful one. “It’s forbidden, Briar.”
“He makes me laugh. That shouldn’t be forbidden.”
“And you’re as stubborn as your father.” For a moment, her gaze became remote, a wistful grin tilting her lips. “The way that man loved. He did it the same way he ruled, with resilience and tenacity, and yet it was effortless. It was unconditional.”
My expression must be reverential, because her watery smile expanded. Then she sobered and cleared her throat. “Is there anything you wish to discuss with me about …?”
Heat spread across my skin. Despite my being a grown woman, we had never talked about intimacy because every time she’d tried, I erected a drawbridge. Even now, after every way Poet had touched me, I didn’t know how to broach the subject with her.
My mother scooted nearer. “Briar, I won’t insult you by speaking as if you’re still a child. But giving yourself to a man—”
“I do not give myself,” I told her gently but surely. “I share myself.”
Pride alighted her features. “If I advise you to stay away from Poet, it will only accomplish the opposite. Without a doubt, your father would caution me as much. King or not, he’d be on your side.” She focused on me, a crinkle forming between her brows. “As it is, you didn’t tell me your secrets.”
I swallowed. “I needed to keep secrets.”
“We must conceal things, yes. We must do things that pain us, especially within our station, but please stop hiding from me when we’re in private. You can talk to me. No matter what you do, you’re everything to me, and I’m proud of you.”
“Why?” I asked. “I disobeyed every written and unwritten law.”
“Laws don’t make us better. Our mistakes do, providing we rise above them,” she sighed. “What you did—I can’t say you handled it correctly. You’ve made poor choices but also valiant ones. If you’re not passionate about anything, you can’t be an honest queen. A ruler makes brave decisions, not merely cautious ones. You did what you believed was right. You sought to protect an innocent child from hate.
