spies did not report it.” The Lady’s throaty voice was still musical, though her comment turned into a weak cough.
“I’ve missed you,” I said.
She laughed and made a tutting noise. “Now, now, Made-of-Me. We both know that isn’t true.”
The words stung. “You pretended to leave me,” I said, pulling away. “When I was small. You lied and hid at Bhekina House, even though I cried for you every night. Why?”
She sighed. “Children are always so ungrateful.”
“What? Mother, I—”
“You had a lovely childhood.”
She spoke with such calm certainty, I began to doubt my own memories. Perhaps I hadn’t been so miserable, locked in that study with no light. Perhaps I hadn’t thrown myself in firepits, or sobbed myself to sleep when she went away.
“You were perfectly happy,” she continued. “I provided every comfort you needed, and you repaid me with hatred. You chose to forget your own mother.”
“I don’t hate you.” This was not how I had imagined our reunion. I had envisioned The Lady smiling as I appeared on the landing, holding me through the bars as we cried in each other’s arms. I had thought she would tell me about her days in exile, her years as a child bandit queen. I had planned to talk about my life in return, sharing the adventures that spies could never tell her.
Instead, The Lady crossed her arms and stared over my head. Her features were stony, wounded, a queen betrayed by her vassal.
“I was scared,” I protested. “You told me to kill someone. An innocent person.”
“Everything I said,” she replied, “everything I did, was for you. For our future together.”
“You never told me anything. I didn’t know—” I broke off and glanced at the guards farther down the landing, lowering my voice even more. “I didn’t know you wanted to be empress. But Melu told me everything. About Aiyetoro’s masks. And about … you.”
The whites of The Lady’s eyes flashed. “Then Melu is a fool,” she growled, “and he has put you in grave danger. If Olugbade’s brat ever finds out that you have a right to his throne …”
“I don’t want Dayo’s throne, Mother. Even if I did, I wouldn’t hurt him. I can’t do it. I won’t.”
A tarnished cup lay by The Lady’s hand. She plunged it into the murky bucket of water and drank. “Did Melu show you,” she asked, “what your darling prince’s father did to me?”
“He shouldn’t have banished you. I know that was wrong. But Dayo isn’t responsible—”
“Did Melu show you what happens to a palace girl who is thrown onto the streets?”
My heart sank. I shook my head.
She continued in a cool tone. “Did Melu let you see the bruises on my body? The scars that never faded? Did he show you the starvation and the cold? Or did he shield you from those things, as I shielded you in Bhekina House, where you never felt a pang of hunger or endured a single day of suffering?”
Shame heated my face. “I didn’t mean to be ungrateful,” I stammered. “I’m sorry, Mother. About everything.”
“And I will forgive you,” she replied, “because you are mine. But your years under Olugbade’s thumb have made you weak.” She sighed. “I expected more of you, Made-of-Me.”
I swallowed hard and said, “Say my name, Mother.”
Her jaw hardened. She pressed her lips together and was silent.
“You’ve never done it before,” I said, gripping the bars. “I … I just want to hear you say it.”
Tears glinted on her smooth cheeks. “So Olugbade has won after all. You have let him convince you to disown me. You despise being made of me, you are ashamed.”
“No. No, Mother, I just—”
“You would let him poison your mind. You would cast off your own blood, your own family.”
Humiliation washed over me. I remembered just minutes earlier, bowing with a docile smile before the emperor, who had signed my mother’s death warrant.
“I won’t abandon you,” I whispered.
“What a coincidence,” murmured The Lady. “That is what Woo In said months ago, when I was captured. I told him to ensure your safety first. But here you are, safe and sound … and he is nowhere to be seen. So much for council vows.”
“Woo In read your journal at Bhekina House,” I said. “He thinks you’ve betrayed him.”
For the first time, The Lady looked unsettled. She picked at the frayed edge of her mantle, muttering almost to herself. “He will forgive me, of course. He loves me. He is mine, just like all the others.”
“What is the Redemptor