“Suddenly, all our dreams vanished. You must understand that we thought we were doing what was best for all of us. We never meant to drive you away from us.”
Raia wished she could believe her. She’d always wanted the kind of mother who put her children first. But she remembered too many nights when she’d woken screaming from a nightmare, and her mother had come in and told her to be quiet, that children were to be seen and not heard. She remembered the first time her parents had paraded her in front of their friends, as if she were some clever trinket they’d bought, and then shooed her upstairs with orders to stay there until their party was over, forgetting she hadn’t eaten and couldn’t reach the kitchen without crossing the party room. She’d been hungry while the adults dined on sugar dates and other delicacies. Until Celin, there had never been a moment that tipped the scales into unbearably cruel, but it had been a hundred little things every day that said “we don’t love you,” even before her parents had tried to sign away her freedom.
“You never cared about me. Only about what I could get you. That hasn’t changed.”
“Oh, my baby, we want to try to make it up to you,” Mother said. She had tears in her eyes, and Raia couldn’t help but think they were real. Mother wasn’t that good an actress. She believed what she was saying. “Your father and I . . . we see we were terrible parents. You were a sensitive child, and we didn’t give you the love and affection you needed. I suppose it took an event like Celin’s death for us to realize it—and even then, we realized it too late. We treated you unkindly. We took you for granted and didn’t appreciate the fine woman you’ve become. Seeing you race on that track . . . Raia, we are so very proud of you.”
She was saying everything that Raia had always dreamed she’d say. With all her heart, she wanted to run into her mother’s arms and say I forgive you. But she didn’t move. It was too easy. Even if Mother had good intentions, that didn’t mean her actions were right. Especially what she’d done, or tried to do, with Raia and her so-called fiancé. “You said I’d be free of you if I won, witnessed by an augur. But you never thought I’d win. And now that I’m one race away from winning the grand championship, you’re regretting letting me go.”
“That’s right,” Mother said, more earnest than Raia had ever seen her. Raia felt tears prick her own eyes. “We only agreed because we thought we’d never lose you. Facing that loss now . . . it’s made us realize all that we’re losing. We want to try again, Raia, to be the parents you deserve.”
Raia took a step toward her. “I want to believe you.” She ached to believe with all her heart. All the memories, all the times she’d felt unloved—she’d wanted this moment so badly!
Mother crossed to her and clasped her hands. “Then believe us, darling.”
Maybe she could believe her. If they wanted to apologize at long last, then shouldn’t she at least give them a chance to—Wait a minute.
Them.
“Where’s Father?”
“We’re trying to be the parents you need.” Mother’s grip on Raia’s hands tightened. Raia tried to pull away. “Please understand. Everything we do is for love of you. So you can have the future you should have.”
It was as she said those words, so similar to what she’d said when they bargained for her engagement to Celin, that Raia realized this was about more than her mother trying to worm her way out of the agreement they’d made. Twisting, Raia yanked her hands out of her mother’s grip.
“Run!” she shouted at her kehok, with both her voice and her mind.
Her lion ran.
But he didn’t run away, as she’d ordered. He ran toward her.
As he did, she heard a whoosh and saw an arc of fire burst onto the racetrack. It impacted exactly where the lion had been standing waiting for her, and the flames spread—oil was pouring onto the track, and the fire raced along it.
From the stands, the palace guards were shouting. She saw Trainer Verlas burst out of her hiding place, and without thinking, Raia ran toward her lion.
Smoke billowed.
She couldn’t see him!
Flames filled the width of the track, roaring toward the sky. She skidded to a stop