Chapter 53
“Is mom—is she still…” I struggled say it. “Is she alive?”
I couldn’t help but ask after both of us had taken a few minutes to recompose ourselves. The question kept rolling around in my mind until it was all I could think about.
He shrugged. “I honestly don’t know.”
I gave a slow nod.
“Though I suspect she’s out there somewhere, still fighting.” He let out a heavy sigh. “Part of me has always wondered if one day she might come back. Perhaps to whisk the both of us away somewhere else. But I knew it was unlikely. As far as the town is concerned, she’s dead, and really, she’s essentially dead and gone from our life as well. As difficult as it’s still been for me to accept after all these years.”
Could it all really be true? Was my mom really out there somewhere?
“There—there was a funeral,” I muttered. “I remember seeing her sick in bed, and when they buried her in the ground and planted the tree.”
“All illusions,” Da said, miserably. “She thought it would be better if it was more realistic. I honestly hated all of it. But worse was after she was gone. It was miserable, having no one I could really confide in, and then having to tell you that she was dead as well... I hated it.” His hand balled into a tight fist, before loosening. “Even were she to come back, I know things would never be the same as they were before, as much as I might dream of it. I don’t know that I’d ever be able to even forgive her. Not just for what she did to me, but to you, too.” He gave his head a shake, grim eyes staring off into the room. “I wonder sometimes if she regrets it.”
I truly hated seeing him like this. Though now it was somehow worse than before, beyond simple grieving. She’s abandoned him, abandoned us.
“Why? Why’d she do it? Why leave?”
His dim eyes met mine, a glimmer of life entering them as I patted his shoulder. “I’ve had a long time to think about that. She claimed at the time it was because she needed to—that they needed her. She told me that she couldn’t abandon them, that the simple family life just wasn’t for her, and other similar reasons. For a long time, I thought she was selfish, just unable and unwilling to try and give up that life once it showed back up at our door. She was abandoning her husband and daughter for a fight that wasn’t even truly hers. Being angry made things easier for me, in some ways. I think the true reason that she left, though, was because she was trying to keep us safe. She may have said it was for other reasons, but I believe she feared that I would talk her out of it if she told me the truth. She was scared that the longer she stayed here, the more at risk you would be. So when someone found us, Juniper took it as a sign that it was time to leave.”
The two of us spent a while hugging and talking further. He told me of some of the nicer times, of the two of them learning what it meant to be parents, fumbling their way through it until they got it right. And he talked about her as a person—the gentle smile she often wore, her attempts at growing flowers and cooking, both of which she blundered through, and of quiet evenings reading stories to me together, both acting out numerous characters.
Eventually, the tales of my mother reached a gradual end, and my father stood from his chair. We’d already talked for a long while, I realized.
“As much as I’d love to stay longer, I believe I should get going. You’ve left me with quite a lot to think about, and not much time to think, it seems. Plush, there are a few things I need to do,” he said, walking over to me as I got to my feet. “Give me a bit of time to consider everything and we’ll talk again, with you and with Camilla.”
“I’m sorry, Da.”
“Don’t be sorry, my sweet girl,” he briefly paused as I winced, our little argument still somewhat raw. “You have nothing to be sorry for. We’ll get you out of this mess, don’t you worry.” His hand rubbed my upper arm, and I pushed forward into a hug. As he gently patted my back, he whispered out, “Everything’s going to be alright.”
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure that I believed it. Did we really stand a chance? What exactly was my father planning to do? What would the Praevus do?
My lips parted, planning to ask him at least one of those questions, when he pulled away and said, “I’ll come back by as soon as I have the time. And maybe we can talk a little more about your mom. I know you’re still itching to know more.”
My head bobbed, and I smiled. “Yeah. Though I’m already baffled from just today.”
“Ha, you and me both, Pearl.” A hand rubbed my head, and I felt my ears twitched.
A slightly awkward silence followed. “Perhaps we should talk more about what’s going on with you as well. I don’t believe I’ll have time to come back tonight, so likely tomorrow.”
My cheeks went pink. Had I forgotten to mention the ears?
“Stay safe for me, alright?”
“I will.”
With one last hug, he left. The room felt emptier than normal, as though he’d taken with him the one warm blanket in the entire place. I still could barely believe that my mom was alive out there somewhere, or at least probably was. After all these years of believing her gone, having seen her sick in bed and her body when we’d buried her, it was difficult to accept as anything other than fantasy. On top of that was her being a sorceress, possibly one more powerful than Camilla. And then the final revelation—her having left us.
Was it the right decision to leave and go fight against the Empire, against pain and oppression? My heart felt hurt, betrayed, lied to. But, at the same time, it seemed right, like the sort of thing that I would likely do in her place. Even the fake death made sense. It was a great cover story, and since she hadn’t given any indication of coming back, perhaps it was sort of close to the truth.
We weren’t staying in this town, though. We planned to escape. I expected that even my dad might now want to come with us, given that I’d explained to him the plans our little group had discussed the day before. I certainly hoped he’d join us and planned Camilla as much when she came back.
Wait. I’d forgotten to ask him just what he was planning to do, now know everything he did!
Cursing under my breath, I stepped forward, planning to rush out to track him down. Then I stopped and shook my head. He was probably off of the estate by now, and while I could probably catch him, it would mean running to do so. Would that seem suspicious? Would it draw attention to him? I honestly didn’t know. Plus, I had little chance of dissuading him, if he was even willing to discuss it out in the open like that.
I shook my head. No, it was best to let it go. He’d be back; he was smart and knew what he was doing. Much more so than I’d ever realized before, if his past was any indication. Instead, I decided to try to take my mind off things by tidying up the room. After all the moving, the floor was a complete mess, despite my trying to find places for things. Glancing around, I let out a quiet sigh. No better time to start than now. It was only then that I realized I’d nearly forgotten my lack of underwear… My cheeks reddened, slightly mortified.
A few hours of cleaning later and the room was sparkly, or as sparkly as I was willing to get it. Camilla had yet to reappear, and I hoped she wouldn’t be much longer. Her absence was fraying my nerves, and the longer she was gone, the more I was beginning to worry. Really, all the waiting around in general was becoming increasingly difficult. We didn’t have a concrete plan together, and the more time that passed, the more that fact seemed to loom over me, over us. I wanted to do something, anything; I just didn’t know what to do.
For a few minutes, I paced around my room, my mind roaming with worry. Then, to take my mind off of things, I decided to head to the kitchen for some food. Maybe it would help..?
I left out into the hall, peaking carefully around corners. We’d hopefully scared Silas off, but I couldn’t rely on that fact, nor expect to be lucky enough for someone to be around to save me this time. As I arrived at the kitchen without incident, relief flushed through me. A smile graced my lips as I spotted Rosetta in a chair polishing forks.
She glanced up, her shoulders sagging. “Finally. We need to organize a better means of communication,” she whispered, and stood. Curiously, I walked over. “Give this to Camilla.” Pulling something from a pocket, she pushed it into my hand. I looked down at the small slip of paper. “It’s about yesterday. Look at it later,” she muttered quickly.
I nodded, and placed it in a pocket of my own, making sure that it was securely in and unlikely to fall out. What a disaster that would be.
“Thanks.”
She shrugged. “Of course. Now, while you’re here, and presumably not busy, why don’t you clean up your hands and help me with the polishing? There’s going to be another dinner tonight.”
I groaned. “Another one?”
“Yes, and do try not to skip this one. You’re a maid, Camilla’s maid.” I frowned, and she continued, “Stop pouting. You got away with the last two because of Camilla’s leniency and generosity, but eventually you’ve gotta get past your embarrassment.”
As if I could ever get past that incident. Even thinking about it had my face reddening. “I didn’t even know about the second dinner. Camilla went without ever telling me. And she told me not to go to the other.”
“You’re her maid. She shouldn’t need to tell you.” When I gave her a grumpy glare, she rolled her eyes. “Wear something nice. It’ll be fine. Nothing will happen, and it’s important to keep up appearances. She’s a sorceress.” The girl handed me some polish and a towel. “Now here, make yourself useful.”
With a sigh, I sat down to help. Occasionally, we would chat about something mundane, but for the most part, we sat in silence. It was sort of nice, in a strange way. Something normal after all the insanity that was happening around us. Eventually, the two of us made it through all the silverware, Rosetta only smacking me a few times when I’d absentmindedly done a poor job. Then we ate a few bits of fruit and some bread for a quick and easy meal before parting ways. She seemed to have a lot to do in preparation for the night, and as much fun as it might have been to spend time together, I didn’t want to distract her.
As I made my way back to the room, my hand slipped into the small pocket, thankful that the paper was still there. Don’t lose the paper, I chided myself. Rosetta was right; we really did need a better way of communicating.