His Fire Maiden - Michelle M. Pillow Page 0,53

fairytale countryside covered in ice, and the castle in the center of it all, was not hers. The general had never wanted her to see it. Or was it he never wanted her to learn the truth of what it represented? If she hadn’t found that holo-box as a child, would he have ever told her that Josselyn existed? It seemed rather obvious now that secrets had been buried here. She knew the Federation’s ways well enough to know this was not how things were normally done. Her father was very wrong about one thing. Violette did want this. She wanted everything this place represented, everything she had not had in childhood.

“What did you want to show me?” Violette asked.

“Over here.” Josselyn crossed the room to the far side. She stopped and looked up at a banner and said, “the Craven family crest,” before reading the inscribed words, “Ago pugna quod intereo per veneration.”

“I’ve seen it,” Violette answered somewhat defensively. It was one of the few things she had known about this place. “Honor above all else.”

“Live, fight, and die with honor,” Josselyn corrected, before she pointed at a large portrait. “That’s our mother.”

The likeness of a beautiful woman stared out over the hall. The paint was dull and faded, but that did not take away from the sereneness of her expression. Her dark brown hair was pulled to the top of her head, immaculately placed. The square neckline of her gown showcased a jeweled necklace. The dress had two parts to it. The red overtunic was edged with cream lace. The full sleeves only hung to the elbows. The younger version of their mother looked like Josselyn, especially around the eyes.

“She smelled like honey with a hint of lavender,” Josselyn said. “She was a good, gentle woman with a heart big enough for the whole galaxy. We protected her from the rebellion’s affairs. She never knew Jack’s part in it.” Josselyn placed a hand on her sister’s arm and drew Violette’s attention to her. “When I almost died from the thawing process, or died and came back, whatever you’d like to call what happened after you saw me in the general’s office, I had a vision of my family. They were here, in this room. In the vision, my mother told me about you. I don’t know what you believe happens when we die, but I know I will come back here and be with my family.”

Violette’s gaze traveled a few feet to the next portrait. Her mother was there with her first husband, a very young Josselyn, and four boys. The children were grinning and mischievous while the parents gazed lovingly at each other.

“What are their names?” Violette studied the boys who would have been her half-brothers.

“Jonathan, Peter, Ralphe, and Rainier,” Josselyn replied. “They died the day I was imprisoned, as did my father, Lord Craven.”

“She’s beautiful and so young.” Violette stared up at their mother. “I saw holographic images of her, but she didn’t look like that.” She looked down to study her cold hands. “Your mother doesn’t have the hollowness in her expression that mine did.”

“She is our mother—” Josselyn began.

“No.” Violette turned her eyes back up. “That woman did not have me. My mother was some shell of that woman. If given a choice, Lady Craven would never have become pregnant with me. Because if I accept what my father did here, then I have to admit that I was a mistake. He tricked our mother into marrying him and into having me.”

“No, she wasn’t like that,” Josselyn protested. “She loved all her children. I’m sure that hollowness that you’re describing was the loss she felt after losing so many of us.”

And when it came to me, she couldn’t be a parent again, so she chose death, Violette thought.

“In my vision she told me of you,” Josselyn continued. “She said you were a good soul, troubled but one who would find your way to us eventually. I know she regretted that she couldn’t be the mother that she was to the rest of us. I know she loved you.”

“It’s a pleasant thought, but I don’t believe in that kind of afterlife. When I die, there will be no reason for my spirit to be transported here.” Violette placed her hand over her long scar. The padding of the snowsuit kept her from feeling it. Somehow, looking at the happiness of Josselyn’s family, the world they had lived in, the love shining in their faces, she