“I’ll be all right,” I assured him.
He still didn’t move as he replied, “I do not like the light I see in your eyes.”
“Well, honey, you probably won’t for awhile because this is an adventure, if given the choice, I would say a big, fat no to but I’ll get through it then I’ll get over it.” I gave his wrist another squeeze and finished, “Promise.”
His thumb stroked my cheekbone then he leaned in and slid his nose along mine as I pulled in a fortifying breath.
Then he must have been assured I wasn’t going to fall apart for he straightened, nodded at Mother, jerked his chin at Father, Father smiled his approval at me briefly (and that made me feel better too) and they moved out of the room.
Mother regarded me over the rim of her coffee cup through another sip before we heard the doors close behind Father and Frey.
Then she dropped the cup again and drily observed, “It upsets me to note that it appears your husband doesn’t like you much at all, my daughter.”
I blinked at her then saw her mouth twitch as I watched her eyes light.
Then I leaned forward, nabbed my own cup, sat back and remarked, “It’s terrible. We simply do not get along,” then I took a sip.
“I see this,” Aurora murmured.
“He’s insufferable,” I added.
“Mm.” This she murmured into her cup while her eyes danced.
“And he thinks I’m a shrew,” I informed her.
“He made that quite clear,” she replied.
“The last few months have been a nightmare,” I shared.
She lifted her chin slightly. “My profound sympathy, my dear, that you are suffering so greatly,” she returned and I couldn’t help it, I grinned, that grin grew to a smile then I burst out laughing.
Aurora of the House of Wilde did not laugh with me but she did smile.
And when I stopped laughing, she leaned forward, picked up the delicate, china plate of petite fours and extended it to me while inviting, “Tell me all about your adventures with your Raider, my Finnie.”
And therefore Mother deftly took my mind off the coming events and to better places, something I not only let her do but was extremely grateful for and we sat, drank coffee, ate cakes and had a long, fabulous mother daughter chat in a beautiful room next to a roaring fire.
I would have preferred our welcome home not to include news of my required presence at a triple execution.
But it ended up great.
And, by the way, the petite fours tasted even better than they looked.
* * * * *
“Don’t be cross, Penelope,” I whispered as I cuddled my cat who I’d been reunited with a few hours earlier and who, I had found, was holding a pretty mean grudge for being left behind.
She stretched her neck over my arm and looked to the side, clearly wishing to be put down and not receive snuggles and soft words from her Momma who she considered abandoned her.
“You told me you didn’t want to go on a ship,” I reminded her.
“Mrrrr that was before you, mrrr went away for, mrrr ages,” she retorted.
“Next time, I’ll take you with us,” I promised.
“Mrrr, let me down,” she demanded.
“You cannot tell me my girls didn’t take care of you,” I stated.