“Apparently, so do I.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “Tradition is big for the Tremwells. Not as big as the Quinns, mind you. But big enough. His parents want to see him hold a place on the king’s court. They want his life, his character, and his duty to Aldayne to be unimpeachable. Once I become a citizen and marry him in the eyes of their church, I can hold a title.”
“Is it worth it?” I asked softly.
“He is,” she affirmed, just as soft.
I nodded and took her hand in mine. That we were on this journey together filled my heart with such joy. No one understood me better.
She finished the makeup about twenty minutes before the car returned with the folks. It helped a lot, but I was still afraid my astute mother would see right through the ruse, a ruse we kept up by my staying in bed even upon their return.
The bed itself enjoyed plenty of shadows courtesy of the heavy canopy. I planned to use this to my full advantage.
Mom was the first to visit me. She crawled into the bed. “How’s my sweet Pea?”
“Better,” I said, and it was the truth. She took me into her arms and cuddled me.
“I’ve been so worried about you. Is it the placenta previa again?”
“I just didn’t want to take any chances,” I answered without answering. “We’ve got a big weekend ahead.”
Mom chortled. “That’s the truth. Maeve showed us around the palace, previewing the big plans for her jubilee.”
“So, it’s Maeve now?”
“She insisted,” Mom shrugged. “She said if we were going to be family, we might as well be on a first-name basis. Imagine,” she chuckled.
“Imagine,” I echoed.
“Tell me the truth, Pea. Did she say something to upset you?”
“No,” I fibbed, but only a little. It was what Auggie said that sent me fleeing the castle. “I think she sees us as co-conspirators.”
“How so?”
“She wants Auggie to become king. I think she feels like I can help her achieve that goal.”
“Is that what you want?”
I exhaled, long and hard. “Honestly, I don’t know. But what I want may not really matter.”
“Of course, it matters. You’re Peaches McPhee for fu-,” she started.
“I know, I know,” I cut her off. “But that’s kind of the thing, Mom. It’s bigger than me. It’s more than just getting married and having a baby, although those things are hard enough. It’s moving to another country, taking on a whole different set of traditions and obligation. It means taking care of millions of people depending on me to do the right thing. I just don’t know if I’m up for it.”
“You’re up for it,” Mom assured at once, without reservation.
“How can you say that?”
“Because I raised you. I know how strong you are. How good. How kind. You’re an incredible woman, Pea. Those traits are going to make you an incredible mother. Your empathy and your wisdom will make you an incredible queen. You already are in my eyes. And your dad’s. And Auggie’s.”
I searched her face in the low light. “You think so?”
“I know so,” she affirmed.
I held her tight. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, my little sweet Pea.” She kissed my hair. “Now, get some sleep,” she said. “But if you need me, you call me. You’re never going to be too grown or too big for your britches for me to be your Mama.”
I laughed. Every now and then her Texan came out to play. It was when I kind of liked her best.
After she left, I did go to sleep. We had lied about what was wrong with me, but my body was still reeling and healing from Christopher’s attack. I slept late into the evening, all the way through dinner.
Auggie brought a late snack when he retired early to our quarters.
I joined him on the terrace, a cozy velvet robe around my shoulders.
“You look better,” he said as he prepared me a bowl of something that smelled savory and delicious.
“It’s the makeup,” I quipped.
“It’s your family,” he corrected as he put the bowl in front of me. It looked like large, dark purple balls in a savory, beefy stew. “Here. This will make you feel better.”
“What is it?” I asked, leaning forward to give it a sniff.
“Porgelagh,” he grinned.
“Once again in English, please.”
He laughed. “It’s a stew with potato dumplings from the Midnight Coast. The recipe is centuries old. Meat, beer and purple potatoes we get straight from Grandpa Charlie.” He placed a few pieces of rustic looking bread on my plate. “It’s