Page 191 of Forcing Fate

“Annabelle of Vicoth is here to–”

“Avyanna?” My mother’s expression morphed into one of pure horror and confusion.

“Mother, I–”

“What have you done to your hair?!” she shrieked, pushing into the room with a covered basket clutched in her arms.

The maid wasted no time escaping down the hall.

“I had to–”

“And what on earth are you wearing? For decency’s sake, Avyanna!” she howled.

Rafe reached around her from his spot on the cot and shut the door to the hallway.

She jumped with a yelp and whirled, facing him. “A man! In your room! Avyanna! Explain this!” She whipped out a crusty loaf of bread from her basket and brandished it as if it were a weapon, waving it at Rafe.

“Mother, I have something to tell you–”

“Who is he? Why is he so big?! What are they feeding men these days?!”

He pulled his hulking body from the cot, rising to tower over both of us. I let out a groan and buried my face in my palms. It was all going so wrong.

“I am General Rafe Shadowslayer, formerly known as Rafe of Deomein. Avyanna of Gareth is part of my Tennan.” His voice rumbled as he spoke.

My mother backed against me, wielding her bread. “Pray tell, what is a Tennan, dear sir?! She’ll not be part of your harem!”

“Mother, I–”

Rafe burst into laughter and both my mother and I stopped and stared at him, jaws hanging open in shock. He roared with laughter, throwing his head back. I watched with horrified amusement as his muscles spasmed with each laugh.

“Is he mad?” she whispered, voice frantic.

“Sometimes I wonder,” I mused.

Rafe calmed himself, blowing out a sigh. “I see where she gets it,” he muttered.

He snatched the bread out of her hand. The door creaked as he opened it, crowding us with the movement, and stepped out. His teeth sank into the loaf, tearing off a hunk, and he snorted one last time before latching the door shut behind him. We stared for a solid moment in pure confusion. My mother’s hand was still raised in the air, no longer wielding bread, with her back pressed against me.

I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed. “It’s good to see you, mother.”

It took a few moments to calm her down, but eventually she did. She rested her large frame on the cot, and I sat on the small table, letting my feet dangle in the air. I told her everything that had happened—about my depression, my sense of uselessness and mental struggles after the Wild One rejected me. I spoke of the refugees, about Ran, and how he was my turning point, the moment I snapped.

When I shared the details of the day I signed the recruitment papers, she wailed and dug into her basket of baked goods. I explained my hardships and how General Rafe helped me. I told her about the friendships I’d made and the Tennan I was now a part of.

I left out the parts with Victyr and when I was sick. The recent events involving Rafe were also avoided. She didn’t take any of it well. I could hardly ask her advice on love at a time like this. She finished another sweetloaf as I gushed about Thunderbolt, trying to lighten the mood.

And she cried when I explained I was headed out in two days.

To see my mother cry was the most torturous thing I ever witnessed. The one who birthed me, cared for me as a babe, who tried her best when her husband was taken from her, who loved her child from afar for so many years, cry—because of me. Because after all these years, she might lose me the same way she lost her first love. This war would rob her of both the people she loved with all her heart.

I jumped down and sat on the cot with her, holding her as she sobbed. She cried, and I cried with her. Her tears soaked my tunic, and I expressed all I had realized. That I knew she cared for me, and how awful I’d been at reciprocating that love. I stroked her hair as I made it known how much I loved her, and how I’d never be able to repay her for everything she’d done for me. When I confessed how selfish I’d been, I stroked her back, and the words tore at my throat.

She sniffled and wrapped her arms around me, holding me tight. “Avyanna, you are your father’s daughter, if nothing else.” Her voice trembled. “You will carve your own path, regardless of what other people want. You’re headstrong and always have been—it’s a part of you.” She pulled away from me and held my face. “I love all of you, even the broken pieces, darling.”

Something in me shattered. I crumpled in her arms and sobbed. I let her hold me, knowing this could be the last time I’d ever drink in my mother’s comfort.

I wept.

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