The Rising (The Rising #4) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,109
me. And I will have her answer to all of that.”
His eyes fired.
Jorie muttered, “Absolutely.”
I drew in a very deep breath for the umpteenth time that day.
And faced forward.
“A queen does not sit at the edge of her throne,” Mars noted gently.
This was good counsel.
I was shifting back, resting my forearms on the arms of the chair, when True strode in, an openly irked Farah at his side, and my mother was trailing them.
I saw she had lost weight. Not to mention, in the time since I’d seen her, which wasn’t very long, she looked like she’d aged years.
And her eyes were anxious on me.
I realized then that she was always anxious.
Always worried.
Always fretting.
The only times she didn’t seem as such were when she was at her embroidery, at her knitting, or staring vacantly out a window.
Her step stuttered when she noted Jorie.
“Vanka,” True said. “Allow me to present you to Jorie, King of the Mer and Silence’s brother.”
She’d come to a halt between the two sofas before us, her attention fixed on my brother, her expression a mask of shock.
“My…you look…you…King of the Mer?” she stammered. Jorie said nothing, but I assumed he indicated his affirmation of this, for Mother said, “You look just like—”
“My father?” he asked.
It took noticeable effort for her to pull herself together, and she didn’t completely accomplish it, before she asked, “He is well?”
“As I am king, obviously, he is passed,” Jorie stated curtly. “Doing this not knowing he had a daughter.”
Her face grew red.
“He would have wished to know this, and he would have wished it very much,” Jorie continued.
She straightened her shoulders. “And I would have wished to know he was King of the Mer.”
“And how is that important?” Jorie asked.
“How…?” Mother shook her head. “I knew not my daughter was a princess.”
“And my father knew not that he had relations with a woman who was intent to use him to impregnate herself to give her sterile husband a child, so perhaps we can call that a draw, hmm?” Jorie suggested.
With that, her gaze shot to me. “Silence—”
“Why?” I asked.
To this, she gave little short shakes of her head. “Why what?”
“This is a pertinent question, for there are many whys I could ask,” I replied. “Why did you do as he asked? Why did you allow him to treat me the way he did? Why didn’t you tell me he wasn’t my father so I would understand why he had no use for me? So that maybe I could seek my true father and find, not only him, but also that I had a brother? So that maybe I could know my father before he was gone? So that maybe I could find some love in my life?”
“I loved you,” she said meekly.
“You loved him,” I returned.
“I loved you.” She leaned toward me, “Silence, you must know I loved you.”
I did.
Though the love she had for me was not enough.
“Why are you here?” I asked.
“Because you’re here,” she answered.
“Why are you here without him?”
She looked uncomfortable and did not reply immediately.
But True did.
Lounging on a sofa with his ankle atop his opposite knee, his arm about Farah seated beside him, he said false casually, “She’s sued for dissolution of the household, due to adultery, which I’ve granted. I have as well levied recompense at an amount that would break Bower Manor if your father wasn’t in a position to have to hand over his holdings, which he has, and his land and title, which he’s done. This latter punishment I imposed considering he committed treason. His title will be held, unrepresented, until your second child is born to which you, continuing as Countess of the Arbor, can bestow on him as Lord of the Arbor, or Lady, if it is a girl.”
My head slowly turned to look at Mars.
He was tapping a bored tattoo on the arm of his chair, his eyes on True.
“That was deftly maneuvered,” I murmured.
His gaze shifted to me. “Hmm?”
I rolled my eyes and turned my attention again to Mother.
“None of this really explains why you’re here,” I noted.
“Because you’re my daughter.”
“And?”
“And I love you and I wished to say how very sorry I am.”
“For what?”
This appeared to stymy her.
“I’m tiring of this,” Mars growled.
Truth be told, I was as well.
“She is a mighty witch, indeed, my little sister,” Jorie proclaimed.
I tipped my head back to look at him to see his silver gaze pinned to my mother.