“I am aware of that, but how do you know?” I could not keep the question from my lips.
“Information is powerful, my darling. Perhaps even more valuable than money…or magic.” She sipped again and closed her eyes, looking as though she was savoring the fruity warmth. “Deylia makes the very best tea. Although I would not refuse a taste of what your healer brought.”
I nodded. “Of course, Mother. As you prefer.” I moved to gather the flowers, but she stopped me.
“Not now. Let’s finish our conversation, and I’ll leave you to your rest.” She set her tea down and folded her hands in her lap. “I’d like to be clear on one matter, and I’d prefer you speak honestly.”
She stood from her chair and stepped close to me but did not attempt to touch me this time. “Would you have sought such measures if there were no cutler boy? Or did you seek to avoid your betrothal because your heart belongs to this…Syndrian?” His name sounded terrifying coming from her lips. Terrifying but beautiful.
“At first,” I admitted, “I only wished for my freedom. I did not want to assume your position in this household, after you and Father move on to wherever you intend to go. But now…I feel many confusing things for him, Mother. For Syndrian.”
She nodded, a thin finger pressed to her lips. “Hmmm. And what of this freedom? If you’d managed to convince your father and me that you were dead, would you never again have thought of your parents? You would have done what? Forged a life in another shire after forgoing those who raised you? What was your plan, Palmeria?”
Tears stung my eyes, and I could not look at my mother as I admitted,“I know not what I would have done.”
Even though I could not accept my parents’ work, their lives, and their choices, they were the only parents I had. And I loved them, despite the many reasons I did not want them in my life.
“I am so very sorry.” I wept then, giving in to the burning tears. “I cannot bear for you to think that I would so heartlessly throw you away. That I care nothing for you and Father. I just…I am so tired of the lies, Mother. Of the pressure and the secrets and spending every day feeling as though I might misstep and cost someone’s life. I do not want to be married to a stranger who sees me as nothing more than the lady of this manor. I had no plan. I assure you, I had no idea what I would do. I may be a fool, but I had faith in the passion of my heart, but that is not to say I would never have wanted to send word. Never have wished to know—”
“Shhh.” Lady Lombard gave me a sad smile. “A child owes her parents nothing. Not love, not time. It is the balance of Efimia that each of us must listen to the call of our own soul, despite who may be hurt by the transaction.”
My mother straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, ever regal and composed.
“Growing up without a mother, I had many notions of what parenting should have been.” Her voice held no apology. She simply explained with a wry chuckle, “Perhaps those who know little about the work should avoid the position. I trust you have your own beliefs about what a parent should and should not be.” She pursed her lips, as if picturing the stark contrast between herself and Idony, the mother figure I clung to.
We were both quiet for a moment, listening to my sniffles and the scraping sound of my sleeve as I wiped away silent tears. She met my eyes and inhaled a long, slow breath.
“You might have made your escape and run into trouble. I would expect that you would reach out for your parents, no matter the circumstances or the time that separated us. But…” She cocked her chin and drew her lip between perfect teeth. “Perhaps you would have preferred to never contact us again, no matter your successes or failures. That’s the leap that’s required of anything we love. We can never truly control anyone else, try though we might.”
Her statement hung like lead between us. Wasn’t controlling me, demanding my compliance in all things exactly what my parents wanted from me?
“I don’t understand,” I started, but my mother held up a finger to interrupt.
“Your parents know their own child more than you give us credit for, Palmeria. Remember that.”
Without further explanation, she motioned toward my dinner. “Eat and rest. Your father will be home tomorrow. We’ll speak no more of these things, and I trust you’ll know not to repeat what you now know of the man your father intends you to wed.”
Emeric Otleich. The man my mother said she’d once loved.
“Mother,” I said, my voice wobbling. I had so many more questions. What had they truly expected of me? If my parents believed that someday I might rankle under the constraints of their choices…then was Isupposedto rebel? To forge my own path?
That simply did not make sense. Not when they had so viciously and so completely trained me in what was expected. But instead of any of those things, I asked the question that I hoped would give me insight into all of that.
“Why did they give you to Father? What power did they have over you to arrange a marriage you did not want?”
She lifted her slim brows. “Make no mistake. I wanted this life once. I chose to marry your father. He was simply not my first choice.”
She began walking toward the door, but then paused and turned back to me. “You know that I was raised in Kyruna, in a foundling home. A very small one, but one that was supported by the generosity of Wilmot Otleich. His purse ensured that each of us learned skills and had a place within his enterprise once we were old enough to work.”
She pressed her lips together. “For me, that was when I turned ten. I was brought into the Otleich manor, unlike most of the other foundlings. I kept records and grew up alongside the most trusted people in the Otleich inner circle. Working with their most sensitive information.”
She tapped the tip of my nose with a finger, then spun away.
“What you do not know is that I loved Emeric Otleich from the time I was ten years old,” she said. “But I would never have been brave enough to let him know.”
I listened, rapt, imagining my mother as a girl working in a manor, keeping the books. I’d known she was a foundling, which was why I had no relations or family on her side. But I’d never known anything else about her background.
“Your father was never engaged to Idony,” she said, “but I trust you heard that from the woman herself. She and your father had a tryst, and your father did attempt to make her his wife, but Idony…” My mother twisted her lips into a wry smile. “That woman was brave enough to speak her truth and turn your father down flat. Even as she was carrying his child.” She clucked her tongue but sounded unexpectedly approving of Idony’s choices. “This may surprise you, but I respect that woman. For that much at least.”