Chapter 7

  || 22nd of Junil, 999 || Palekana, Amentis ||

  My head is pounding as I come to, the events of yesterday coming back to me in fragmented pieces.

  The boat.

  The walls.

  Val.

  God I really wish she would stop fucking drugging me.

  Cursing under my breath, I sit up and take in my surroundings. The bed I’m on is small but there is a colorful knitted blanket draped over me. I can’t help but furrow my brows in confusion.

  Okay, definitely not what I was expecting.

  Above me, the ceiling curves and dips, its bright orange color taking me by surprise. That mixed with the strangely carved wooden furniture in the room makes it clear that wherever I am, it's definitely not Edan.

  So there was land pass the Walls this whole time?

  How is that even fucking possible?

  Pushing myself upright, I stumble toward the window next to the bed. The curtains are made of some rough-woven fabric that smells faintly of lavender and sea. When I pull them aside, Sunlight spills into the room, dappled through the leaves of a massive tree pressed against the glass. Beyond it—nothing but dense greenery.

  Another day gone.

  Great.

  Dad’s going to kill me if these people don’t get there first.

  I turn, scanning the room for anything sharp enough to count as a weapon. A large figurine on the bedside table catches my eye—a dancing woman carved into a dark glowing green stone, smooth except for where her pointed foot pokes out. I grab it, testing its heavy weight in my palm. My gaze catches on the copper-colored cuff still on my wrist, making it clear I won’t be able to use the Influence to get out of this anytime soon.

  Fuck.

  Guess this will have to do then.

  With the stone figure clutched in my hand, I slowly edge towards the door, my heart pounding in my chest. I cautiously open the door and peer out into the hallway, expecting to find someone waiting for me but to my surprise, the hallway is empty.

  Confused but still on high alert, I slowly make my way down the narrow staircase. I begin to hear the faint sound of music coming from downstairs, in a style I’ve never heard before. My grip tightens on the stone figure, ready to use it as a club if necessary.

  As I make my way down the stairs, the music gets louder, a soft feminine voice adding a lilting melody to the upbeat tune. I pause midway, my entire body tense as I listen.

  "When love is free...there's nowhere else to be...you'll see…"

  I take a deep breath and slowly move towards the source of the singing, my heart hammering in my chest.

  The stairway ends and spills out into a large open room. I spot a woman standing with her back to me, in front of what appears to be a stove, with a strange blue fire flickering beneath the pan. Her hair is short and blonde and she's wearing a long green dress with a strange swirling pattern on it.

  Something tells me that this is the boss that Val mentioned before, the person who arranged all this bullshit. She's no doubt over there cooking up more poisons for whatever poor beautiful soul gets snatched up after me.

  Right then.

  You’ve got this.

  My heart rate quickens as I tighten my grip on the figurine and hold it out in front of me, “Don’t move! I’ve got a weapon and I’m not afraid to use it!”

  The woman freezes for a moment, then slowly sits the spatula to the side and turns off the stove before carefully raising her hands in the air, “I can explain. There’s really no need to get violent.”

  “Says the woman who had me kidnapped!” I snap, stepping closer.

  Her hair...that voice...its familiar somehow.

  Almost like…

  No.

  It’s just a trick.

  Focus.

  I force the impossible thought away quickly before stepping closer to the woman, holding the figurine up a bit higher, “I want you to tell me why you brought me here. Now!”

  The woman lets out a quiet laugh, then murmurs, "Would it sound strange if I told you I've missed you?"

  Um...yes?

  “Well ma’am…I'm technically spoken for. Regardless, this really isn't the best way to go about it.” I respond cautiously.

  Last thing I need is to start a war because I broke some old woman's heart.

  A crazy old woman but still.

  When she finally turns around and faces me, my grip goes slack—the statue tumbles from my hand and hits the floor with a resounding thud.

  But that’s not…

  I blink several times in shock, my heart doing double time at the sight of her standing in front of me after all these years. Her hair is shorter, hanging just below her ears, and there are lines around her smile that didn't used to exist. But her eyes, those are still the same deep shade of emerald that I'd see before bed every night growing up.

  My first instinct is to run to her and throw my arms around her, but my mind is racing too fast to wrap my head around this properly. Instead, I take a tentative step forward, still not sure if my eyes are deceiving me or if this is just some elaborate trick.

  “Mum..?” I manage to choke out.

  She gives me a warm smile as she steps closer, wiping her hands on a towel that hangs from her shoulder before sitting it aside on the counter. “In the flesh,” she answers quietly, her eyes roaming over my face, taking me in too.

  Shit.

  Maybe I hit my head in that cart.

  Maybe I'm still unconscious, bleeding out, dreaming up this whole damn thing.

  Maybe-

  "It's really me, Sonny. I know this is…alot." She says, as if reading my mind, though I'm sure the truth is all over my face.

  "You died." My voice cracks.

  "Your father lied." Her face darkens, but she keeps her tone gentle. "Come sit. Please. I'll explain."

  I don't move but the room still tilts.

  Sixteen years.

  Sixteen years of Lia pressing her face into Mum's old shawl when she thought I wasn't looking. All those nights I whispered to her portrait like a prayer, begging for her to come back to us.

  and she had left us this whole time.

  Mum sighs and walks to the couch, perching on the edge. She pats the space beside her. "I'll tell you everything, I swear."

  I don't remember crossing the room, but suddenly I'm collapsing onto the cushions, elbows on my knees. My hands won't stop shaking. "Start with the night of the fire." I keep my eyes locked on her, still struggling to process what I'm seeing.

  She's really...alive.

  “It’s a bit of a long story.” she murmurs.

  “One I think I am owed.” I reply numbly.

  Countless questions race through my head, but my attention keeps snapping back to one impossible truth—my mum is here, breathing, beside me after a lifetime of believing she was gone.

  Maybe I should thank Val after all…

  Her fingers knot together in her lap. "That night..." She inhales sharply through her nose. "I'd gone to the lower ward for—"

  "Lia's birthday cake," I interrupt. Suddenly I'm nine years old again, trailing after Mum's silk skirts through the Lower Ward markets. The memory stings like smoke in my eyes. "You always got it from that little place near the old tannery. The Rosewood Bakery."

  Mum's lips twitch—not quite a smile, before nodding. "Yes. Charlotte Rosewood made the best cakes in Kaineborough. I had wanted..." She trails off, staring up at the vibrant orange ceiling. "It was selfish, really. Dismissing my guards to go by myself. But I loved watching Charlotte work."

  Wait, her guards weren't with her?

  Then how the fuck did they die?

  "She had just finished boxing the cake when the commotion started outside. There were dozens of Cafrian men walking by the shop window with guns," Mum rubs her thumb across her opposite wrist, "Charlotte took one look and nearly shoved me toward the door with the cake box. 'Be safe,' she said. That was the last thing she ever told me."

  Shit.

  Mum's fingers tighten around the edge of her sweater. "So I ran," she says, voice fraying at the edges. "I ran like hell itself was at my heels, still clutching that damned cake box like it could somehow—" She cuts herself off with a sharp exhale.

  I don't realize I'm leaning forward until my knee hits the low wooden table in front of us. "What changed?" I ask, trying not to wince from the slight throbbing.

  "I made it as far as the merchant's gate before two of my own guards stopped me." A bitter laugh escapes her. "My own guards, Sonny. They wouldn't let me pass. Just stood there with their rifles raised, staring at me like I was some common beggar trying to sneak into the Upper Ward."

  I grip the edge of the couch, the fabric rough under my fingers. "The guards stopped you?" My voice sounds strange—too high, too young, too naive.

  No this doesn't make any fucking sense…

  Mum's hands still in her lap. "They blocked the entrance to the Upper Ward. Two of them. Men I'd known for years." she shakes her head in disgust and disbelief, even after all this time, "I thought it was a mistake at first. Ordered them to stand aside, but they didn't budge."

  A cold knot forms in my stomach as my worst fears seem to come true.

  Alice.

  She did something to make them turn against her.

  I knew she was fucking behind this!

  Mum continues, her voice steady but her eyes distant. "The taller one—Garrett, his name was—he looked me dead in the eye and he said, 'His Majesty's orders. It's nothing personal miss.'"

  My heart lurches violently against my ribs, and my eyes go so wide they sting. Of all the horrific possibilities I'd imagined, this truth is the last thing I expected to hear.

  Dad.

  He ordered this?

  What kind of monster tries to have his own wife murdered?

  The words tumble out before I can stop them, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why would he do something like that?" I'm not sure if I'm asking her or myself.

  Mum's face hardens, but her voice remains frighteningly calm. "Because I knew too much. Plus Edan doesn't have the most forgiving divorce laws, especially for nobility." A bitter chuckle escapes her. "Honestly, it was the only way we were going to get out of that marriage - with one of us dead."

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  The casual way she says it makes my stomach twist. Like she's discussing the weather, not her own attempted murder.

  I lean forward, elbows digging into my knees. "What happened next? After the guards stopped you."

  "Garrett went for his pistol. The other guard—Harlan—hesitated. Just for a second." Her mouth quirks, humorless. "But that was all I needed. I threw Lia's birthday cake at Garrett's face. Two pounds of double-chocolate lavender right in his fucking eyes." A faint, proud smirk flickers across her face before vanishing. "While he was blinded, I kneed Harlan between the legs and ran."

  I bark out a startled laugh before I can stop myself. The image is so absurd—The Queen of Edan, in her fine silks, brawling in the streets like a dockside barmaid. But the laugh dies quickly when I realize what must of happened next. "You ran back toward the fires, didn't you?"

  Her nod is barely a tilt of her chin, her green eyes reflecting some distant horror I can't see. "But the bakery was already burning when I got there. Flames dissolving the wooden sign, smoke so thick I could taste it. And I was just standing there like some damned idiot, trying to figure out what to do next and then—"

  "And then?" I press.

  She looks over at me, her eyes filled with what could only be described as shame before she says, "Then I heard a child screaming from the upstairs of the bakery."

  Lena.

  The name rattles around my skull like a loose bullet. That sharp little girl with the wild curls and an even wilder temper—the one who gave me the scar on my forearm when we were kids.

  I always assumed she'd died that day, but maybe…

  "Charlotte's daughter?" My voice comes out rougher than I meant it to, like I've been breathing in that same smoke, 16 years later.

  Mum nods stiffly, "She was trapped. The stairs were gone—just a wall of fire between her and freedom." Her voice drops, raw. "So I told her to jump out the window."

  "You what?" I ask, eyes wide in mild horror.

  Her eyes meet mine, dark with memory, but there's a faint smile on her lips, "Don't be so shocked, I did catch her."

  "You caught her? From a burning building? Fucking hell Mum." I say, slightly impressed.

  "Barely. Her leg got burned, and she fought me like a feral cat when I tried to pull her away from the back door." A shadow passes over her face. "She kept screaming for her mother. But Charlotte was already—" She cuts herself off, jaw working as she closes her eyes for a moment.

  I don’t need her to finish. The bakery was already engulfed. There was no saving Charlotte Rosewood that night.

  Fuck.

  "We tried to stay off the main street, so we cut through the alley behind the tannery. But then we heard the shouting." Her voice drops to something raw. "Royal guards, at least five of them. And they had—"

  She stops abruptly, her breath hitching. I lean forward, my own fingers digging into my knees. "Had what?"

  "Cafrian men. A group of them on their knees in the middle of Rosewood Street." Her eyes flicker with something dark. "Including James. Charlotte's husband."

  Lena's father.

  Fuck.

  A cold weight settles in my gut because I know where this is going.

  I've heard the official reports—all about the "riot" that took my mother's life, the "uprising" that had to be put down, the "brutes" who needed to be taught their place. But what if the only brutes that night wore my families crest?

  It wasn't an accident.

  It wasn't a riot.

  It was a fucking execution.

  Mum's voice is barely above a whisper now. "The guards were screaming at them. Calling them traitors, animals…It was horrible to say the least. Lena…she tried to run to him. I had to grab her by the waist and hold her back." Her voice cracks. "She was kicking at me like I was the enemy. And then—"

  A muscle jumps in her jaw. She doesn't need to say it. I can see it in the way her throat works—the way her fingers dig into her own arms like she's still holding that struggling child back from the horror.

  "a shot rang out," she whispers. "Just like that. No trial. No warning. Just—"

  The sharp crack of gunfire seems to echo in the silence between us.

  Mum's eyes are glassy, staring through me at something sixteen years gone. "Lena went completely still in my arms. Like all the fight drained out of her at once. Then she just...changed."

  "Changed how?" My voice sounds too loud in the heavy quiet.

  "The air around us shimmered. It was the first time I'd ever felt the…aura of divinia on someone. And then there was this...sound. Like a low rumble. Moments later, the guards started screaming about seeing a dragon—"

  "A dragon?" I blurt out before I can stop myself.

  "Yeah, its as mad as it sounds. This thing was massive—golden scales, wings that blotted out the moon. It landed right in the middle of Rosewood Street, and when it roared, fire rained down..." She trails off, shaking her head.

  I blink, trying to picture it. "But...it wasn't real. It couldn't have been."

  I've combed over hundreds of accounts from that night.

  No one mentioned a fucking dragon.

  "That's the thing." Mum's voice drops. "It was an illusion but it wasn't just sight and sound. Those men—they felt it. The heat, the pain. Lena didn't just make them see a dragon. She made them feel like they were really burning."

  A chill runs down my spine.

  Hale magic.

  The power to make illusions so real they can trick the mind into believing them. But that's a noble's gift—passed down through the Hale bloodline for centuries.

  How the hell did a baker's daughter from the Lower Ward have it?

  I rub my temple, trying to piece it together. The Hales had always been...careful with their bloodline. Even before Granddad abolished slavery, they kept tight control over who inherited their power.

  Unless...

  My stomach twists.

  Unless some lord got careless with a slave girl a few generations back.

  Mum watches me, her green eyes sharp.

  I swallow hard. "She was a Hale, wasn't she?"

  "By blood, yes."

  I exhale through my nose, my fingers tapping restlessly against my knee. "So what happened after? With the…dragon?" I let out a small scoff of disbelief.

  "The guards panicked. Some dropped their weapons and ran. Others fired at nothing." A faint, grim smile touches her lips. "But it gave us just enough chaos to free the other men and slip away."

  Us.

  The word sticks in my chest.

  She didn't leave Lena behind.

  Even then, even after everything, she protected her.

  Lucky.

  Mum leans forward, her voice dropping. "But Lena had never done something like that before. Never made illusions that could be felt. That night...her pain unlocked something new in her."

  It makes a sick kind of sense. Most Divinia is strongest when fueled by emotion—rage, desire, terror.

  And what's more terrifying than watching your father die right in front of you?

  Fuck.

  I run a hand through my hair, "So you just...left after that?"

  Mum's face hardens. "We tried. But the city gates were sealed. Guards everywhere. Then, just when I thought we were trapped—Another miracle. We met someone. Someone very…special. Her name is Zara. She's the one who helped us escape Edan that night. Who…gave us a home and safety from the old world. I know it's all alot, but soon, I'd really like you to meet her. I think you'll like her too."

  I give a stiff nod, my throat tightening as the realization hits me like a punch to the gut. Mum had built an entire world here—sixteen fucking years of safety and freedom, more time than she'd ever gotten to spend with us in that gilded cage of a palace. My fingers twitch at my sides, nails digging into my palms as the question I've been choking on finally forces its way out. "So if it's so safe here...if this Zara woman is so fucking perfect," my voice cracks despite myself, "then why the hell didn't you ever try to come back for me and Lia? Why would you leave us there with him after everything he did?"

  Her face crumples, just for a second, before she smooths it back into that careful, practiced calm. But I see it—the guilt, the grief, the way her fingers twist in the fabric of her skirt like she's holding herself together by sheer force.

  "I did try," she whispers.

  The words hit me like a slap. "What?"

  She exhales, slow and measured, like she's bracing herself. "Lena went back. Dozens of times. She could use her gift to make herself invisible so…I asked her to keep an eye on you two."

  A sharp, disbelieving laugh bursts out of me. "Spying? That's your idea of trying?" My hands are shaking now, "You sent some poor girl instead of coming yourself?"

  Her eyes flash, green and fierce. "And what would you have had me do, Sonny? Storm the palace? Tear through the gates with an army?" She leans forward, her voice dropping to a hiss. "Your father would have killed me on sight."

  I open my mouth to argue, but the words die in my throat.

  Because she's right.

  Dad would have dragged her to the dungeons with a black bag over her head if she'd shown her face in Edan again. She's the one thing that could ruin everything for him.

  Of course he'd want her dead.

  This inevitable realization sits heavy in my chest, bitter and suffocating. I feel like a damn fool, thinking Alice was behind this, when really, I should have set my sights abit closer to home. I suppose I just assumed there were a few horrible things that Dad would be incapable of. Clearly, I was wrong.

  I could fucking kill him.

  All these years of grieving and it was all a damn lie.

  Mum reaches for me, then hesitates, her hand hovering in the air between us. "I wanted to see you. I swear I did, but I couldn't risk it," she says softly. "Not when the only thing keeping you both safe was his belief that I was gone."

  I scrub a hand over my face, my breath coming too fast. "But you knew what he was. What he was capable of. And you just—left us there, with some…monster."

  Her jaw tightens. "I knew you could survive it."

  Another laugh, this one raw and jagged. "Yeah? Well, congratulations. We survived!" I spread my arms wide, my voice dripping with venom. "Look at me, Mum. Thriving."

  Her face goes pale.

  For a long moment, neither of us speaks. The silence between us is thick, suffocating, like the air before a storm.

  “Sonny.” she says quietly, “It hurts me to know that I’ve caused you so much pain but...I had no choice. It wasn’t safe for me to be around. It still isn’t.”

  I can feel the anger rising up again, mixed with confusion and hurt. “And what about me? Did you ever consider how I’d feel? How Lia would feel? We grew up without a mother because of him. We have been through hell-”

  “And I haven’t? Do you how much I used to wish that I had died in that fire because at least then I’d have a good excuse to be away from you? Do you think I like knowing that he won in the end? He got my children, he stole my family's lands, then he replaced me like I never even existed! Marrying my only son off to Alice's daughter like some-” she shakes her head, her jaw tightening as she closes her eyes for a moment before speaking again, “I had to do something. I couldn’t let you get wrapped up in this like I did. Loveless marriage, smiling for the crowds and barely speaking in private. You deserve better than that, and even if you hate me forever please…just stay here. Stay here, where you can choose for once, where you don’t have to be afraid.”

  I want to be angry, I want to be furious at her for never really coming back for us. But there’s a part of me, something deep down that wants to understand her more than anything.

  “How am I supposed to stay here?” I force out, my voice cracking. “You know I can’t do that. I have...a duty.” I insist, but the words sound hallow as soon as they leave my mouth.

  “A duty?” she chuckles, “Listen to yourself. It’s all smoke and mirrors-”

  “It's more than that.” I defend, refusing to admit that she’s right. “I have responsibilities, expectations, people who rely on me. I can’t just run off and abandon it all like-” I stop myself, because despite everything I don't want to hurt her even more.

  But the unspoken words still fill the space between us.

  Like you did.

  Instead of looking sad, she gives me an infuriatingly knowing smile “Did you miss the part where I said I’ve been keeping an eye on you? I know all about your time in Diani and all of your other attempts to subvert your father's will. You keep trying to run, all while still playing his little game. How well has it worked out for you so far?”

  "You don't get to sit there and criticize me. This life was chosen for me before I took my first breath—you of all people should understand that." My voice cracks as I push up from the couch, needing to move, to put distance between us.

  The bookshelf by the door draws me in, its contents a silent record of the years she's been gone. My fingers hover over the spines—some in Edanian, others in script I almost recognize but can't quite place. further proof of her new amazing life.

  Finally, she breaks the silence, her voice soft like it used to be. "That's not true. It was never true. You can be anything you want to be—"

  My hands fly up between us in frustration, "I'm not a child anymore!" I snap, the words bursting out, sharp and jagged. "Your words are nice, but they're just words, Mother. Pretty lies that don't have the power to change any of this." I can feel my pulse hammering in my throat as that familiar knot of anxiety twists tighter in my gut. "You think I didn't dream of running away?" My laugh comes out bitter, edged with sixteen years of swallowed frustration. "Of being someone—anyone—else?" My head shakes, "You think I didn't try?" I press the heels of my hands against my stinging eyes. "There's no way to win this. All you've done is made a bigger mess. I'm sorry, but you have."

  “Darling, you need to listen to me,” she says quietly, standing up and taking a step forward towards me. “This is your chance. You don’t have to be who they say you should be.”

  I shake my head and sink back onto the couch, sighing as I cradle my head in my hands. “There is nowhere in the world I could run, where he won’t find me.” I whisper, my voice sounding a bit more broken than I would like.

  She gets close and slowly wraps her arms around me. I want to resist but she just holds me tighter, resting her head on my shoulder. “He won’t find you here.” she whispers.

  “How do you know?” I mumble back, my voice slightly muffled against her hair.

  “Because this is the one place in the world where he can’t.” she replies simply.

  Her embrace slowly starts to relax me a bit, a feeling of contentment and safety washing over me for the first time in years. I let myself lean into her, taking comfort in this small moment.

  Damn…I think I missed this.

  “Where even is here?” I murmur, breaking the silence as my eyes begin to sting.

  “Amentis.” she answers with a soft smile. “It's an island, hidden by the Walls for the last few hundred years.”

  I scoff, feeling a bit embarrassed for being so worried yesterday. “So the 'Walls of Hell' story was all bullshit then?”

  “Oh no, it's very real Darling. If someone with nefarious intentions where to touch it they would quite literally explode.” Mum replies matter-of-factly before giving me a flash of her crazy eyes, clearly trying to make me laugh.

  Instead, my eyes go wide in horror, “So you risked my life with this little stunt-”

  “Oh come on, I knew you’d get through. Golden heart and all that.” she says with soft smile as she looks over at me and playfully tags my shoulder with her fist. I laugh, and for a moment It feels like I’m a kid again.

  Fuck, I'd forgotten how mental she is.

  “You think I have a golden heart huh?” I ask softly, my voice teasing.

  "I sure do." She nods softly, reaching out to take one of my hands in hers. “And the Wall agrees, or otherwise I’d be clutching a pile of ash right now. But look” she pats my arms and shoulders, "Still meat and skin."

  I can’t help but laugh, the idea of me having a ‘golden heart’ is almost too absurd to believe, almost as absurd as my mum calling my body 'meat and skin'. I can sense her watching me and turn to look at her, my laughter dying down a little. "Seriously, though? You really believe that I have some sort of…goodness in me? Your little spy can't be that good if you're left thinking that" I shake my head softly, "My teenage years alone would horrify you.”

  “Try as you might to scare me, I still think you've managed to become a very kindhearted young man. Otherwise, I never would have brought you here.” she responds with a soft reassuring smile.

  “Well technically, you didn’t. A smart mouthed devil brought me here.” I comment bitterly, my mind envisioning Val immediately, complete with her annoyingly beautiful little smirk and the pretty green dress.

  I begin to wonder how much Mum knows, how much Val told her about our tumultuous time together. I can't exactly see her approving of the brothel plan, especially considering how far things almost went.

  Mum just laughs softly and shakes her head, “Yeah...I was told your reunion was a bit rocky.”

  “Reunion?” I immediately ask, my mind snagging on the word. Probably because deep down, under all the animosity, there really is something annoyingly familiar about Val. "What do you mean by that?"

  “Oh come on, I thought you remembered her! Valena Rosewood...Charlotte's daughter? Ya know, that whole story I just told you about the worst night of my life?" She teases, raising her brows slightly.

  My heart nearly stops as recognition finally takes hold. The scar on my arm practically throbs in acknowledgment.

  The sharp-tongued woman who drugged me, kidnapped me, dragged me across the sea—

  She’s the same little girl who gave me this scar.

  The same little girl who watched her parents die and conjured a fucking dragon in her rage.

  It's all Val.

  why the hell didn't she tell me?!

  I nod, trying to pretend I'm not freaking out right now. “Right...right...yeah. She just uh...she’s changed a bit I guess. I didn’t recognize her.” I let out an awkward chuckle before clearing my throat.

  Yeah cause you were too busy ogling her tits, you pervert.

  “So um...did she say anything about me or-" I begin to ask, However, my stomach has other ideas and chooses that exact moment to growl loudly.

  Mum chuckles and smiles warmly, “Later. Right now, let's get some food into you. You still like sweetcakes?” She asks as she stands up and heads back towards the kitchen area once more, flicking on that strange blue flame with the turn of a knob.

  Damn, I haven't had proper sweetcakes in years.

  No offense to Martha, she did try her best.

  “Yeah, that sounds great Mum.” I respond with a gentle smile, as a long-forgotten warmth begins to spread through my chest.

  I watch as she resumes cooking and for the first time in years, the worries of the world are pushed to the back of my mind and the only thing that exists right now is my Mum, making me breakfast for the first time in 16 years.