The Rising (The Rising #4) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,111

something a child should not have unless that emotion was earned by something that was beyond their parent’s control.

Anger that I felt this pity.

And frustration, that she had come here, when all that was happening was happening, and in the midst of it, we could at any time have to face the Beast.

And she had come here so she could deliver the burden of herself on me.

“You are just like Uncle Wilmer,” I declared. “You need your life simple and you need someone else to make the decisions and take the responsibility.”

She lifted her chin. “My brother is a good man.”

“Maybe so,” I replied. “And some men might be good, but they should not be kings. And some women might be decent, but they should not be mothers.”

“Silence.” My name gusted out in a shocked breath.

“You will always have me, Mother. I will always have affection for you, and love. But I am a queen. I have a husband. He will, I hope, give me many children. I will always have responsibilities. You have a place in my life and my home. But I must warn you, you must understand your place. I cannot have the care of you. For you taught me one thing about which I agree. My husband comes first. But Mars taught me something far more important. For he will always come first, and when we make it, so will our family.”

With that, I stood and felt Jorie move and Mars unfold out of his chair beside me.

“I think with that, we should be done,” I proclaimed. “I will call to a servant to be certain a room is prepared for you. Then I will see you at dinner.”

And with a glance to True, who had also stood and was studying me proudly, and Farah, who was smiling encouragingly at me, I wrapped my fingers around my husband’s offered arm, and he walked me from the room.

Jorie followed us.

When we had exited, I stopped us and turned to my brother.

“Jorie, I can’t—”

He didn’t make me finish.

He bent low and kissed my cheek.

When he straightened, he said, “Well done, little sister. I’ll see you at dinner.”

I nodded.

He gave me a soft smile, turned and walked away.

Without a word, my husband led us to our bedchamber.

I disengaged from him when we were behind closed doors.

He stopped in the middle of the room and crossed his arms on his chest.

I went to the window and stared out at the grazing fields beneath the sheer cliffs outside Sky Bay.

“Silence?” Mars called.

“Was I too cold?” I inquired of the field. “Or should I ask? Should I think on it? Should I question a decision I made? An action I took? A word I uttered? I am queen. I should be decisive.”

“If you do not question and consider matters of import, before the doing of them, mio amore, as well as after, you will be a very bad queen.”

I looked to him, but I did not see him for my eyes were swimming.

And then I was in his arms.

I did not sob.

But I wept.

Mars allowed this for a bit, before he said into the top of my hair.

“You will forgive her, and we will look after her, Silence. All will be well.”

I nodded, my cheek brushing against his chest as I did.

“And I understand your struggle,” he murmured. “Is it a folly, to point out weaknesses to the weak who are thus, because the effort is futile as they’ll never understand? Especially if doing such does harm to ourselves? Or does one persevere in hopes that perhaps they’ll one day understand?”

He understood completely.

“Do you know the answer to that?” I asked.

“No. Except you must act on instinct. Which you did. That situation would never be right for her as well as for you. It could be you making it right for her, at the sacrifice of it doing any good for you. You decided not to sacrifice. And that, mia bellezza, I believe firmly was the right thing to do.”

Of course he would believe that.

He carried on.

“And now my instincts are telling me that my queen must rest, and as such, we will eat abed tonight, this after you nap.”

I tipped my head back to look up at him. “Mars—”

He shook his head, knowing what I would say. “She can have a meal with whatever others join her without you providing interference for her to make it easier, or she can call for a tray for herself. Tonight, I’m seeing to my