He turns away first, and I follow him, my steps matching his longer strides.
Jasce clenches his fingers into fists. “She got reckless.”
“Who?”
“The healer.” He guides me around a group of warriors patrolling the streets.
“Mazaline?”
“Her name isn’t Mazaline. It’s Anastasia.”
“How do you know that?” I ask, my confusion echoing in my question.
His fists tighten even more, his knuckles turning white as he speaks. “Because she is my mother.”
His words scald my chest, and I stumble. His hand catches my arm as he steadies me.
“Y-your mother?”
The gods have mercy!
His mother?
He nods.
My heart throbs as I remember the way he caught the pyre on fire. It wasn’t for him to display his magical skills. It was his tribute to his mother’s memory.
“I’m so sorry,” the words escape me in a whisper.
I couldn’t bear it if I found my mother in such a way. He shouldn’t have to bear it either.
He keeps walking like I never spoke.
His silence gives me plenty of time to think, to wonder. How is this possible? How is his mother responsible for what happened to me?
The questions bombard me before I finally voice one of them. “I thought you said your mother was dead?”
“I didn’t.” He frowns. “I said she was gone.”
Confusion swirls within me, and I slip my fingers into my sleeves as I struggle to grasp the truth.Histruth.
“I don’t understand any of this. How is your mother from House of Silver when your father slaughters everyone from that house?”
A muscle pulses in his jaw as Jasce finds his voice. “She hid her heritage from him, and when he learned of her deception, he tried to kill her.”
“Oh, Jasce.” Compassion swells inside of me as I touch his arm, hoping to comfort him. “How long has it been since you last saw her?”
He stares straight ahead as he speaks. “I hadn’t seen her since I was a child.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t need or want your pity,” he says, his tone devoid of emotion.
“Yes, but she was your mother.”
His shoulders stiffen, and his mouth tightens into a thin line.
For a while, I’m content to walk next to him, to listen to our footsteps pounding against the street. I even watch the clouds. They follow us as we draw closer and closer to the palace.
