Page 136 of The Heir's Bargain

I squirmed in my seat.

She couldn't do that. She had to be in contact with her victims to steal their memories.

At least, that's what she had always told us.

My gaze narrowed. Unless. . .

"You lied to me. You do not need to touch someone to pull their memories from them."

My mother rolled her eyes, an act I had never seen her do. "First, I am not the only one who has lied. Second, do not act so shocked. I am your mother, and some things are best kept secret." Her fingers brushed the ring hanging from her necklace. "Contact does help strengthen the memory's potency and allows me to share the memory with another. Long ago, it was the only way I could discover another's memory. But when a connection between soul bonds is realized and unified, our gifts shift and intensify—some in ways we can't even fathom. My soul bond might be gone, but the gift your father gave me all those years ago is not."

Outside, the wheels of the carriage creaked.

I rubbed the back of my neck, a thin layer of sweat forming on my skin. My hand fell to my lap, and my shoulders sagged. Sighing, I asked, "When did you find out?"

My mother reached out, placing a hand atop my knee. "Fynneares, I've known since the beginning."

"Then why didn't you say anything?"

She offered me a sad smile, but I wish she hadn't because there was more emotion within it than I cared to acknowledge.

"It wasn't my truth to tell," she said.

"Are you mad?"

She removed her hand from my knee and folded her hands in her lap, confusion pulling her brows together. "Why would I be mad, son?"

I wiped my hands across my trousers. "Because we have been lying to you for months. Because we tried to trick you into believing something that wasn't real."

When my gaze met my mother's, I was shocked at what I saw. The confusion had disappeared and had since morphed into amusement. Her mouth tipped up, and a quiet laugh rolled off her tongue.

"Why is that funny?" I asked. "We were pretending to court each other. Why aren't you mad? You told me I needed to find a wife, yet I lied about my courtship with Dani."

"Oh, you foolish, foolish child," she said, shaking her head. "I do not care about your pretend courtship."

"You don't?"

"Of course not." She tilted her head to the side. "It was real in the end, was it not?"

My gaze dropped to my lap, where I wrung my hands together.

"It does not matter how it began, Fynneares. Neither the status of your courtship nor whether it was pretend or not is the reason I wish to speak to you about Danisinia."

I looked up at her, brows drawn together. "Then what is it?"

My mother sighed, rubbing her temples with two fingers. "Do not tell me that you still do not know?"

"Know what?"

Her hand fell. "Let me ask you this instead: why has your knee been bouncing ever since we entered the carriage? Why are your hands clammy?"

"I—" My tongue grew heavy, and I looked down. Sure enough, my leg was bouncing up and down. I stilled it. Suddenly self-conscious, I also wiped my palms on my trousers for good measure. Clearing my throat, I said, "Dani is my best friend, and she's hurt. Of course, I'm going to be worried about her."

My mother shook her head. "Oh, Fynneares."

"What?"

"You still don't see it, do you?"

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