Page 39 of The Curse of the Goddess

The tension of her question still lingered, and after awkward seconds of silence Maris finally answered.

“She killed herself.” Her voice quivered indicating that it happened recently.

Valda felt as if a bucket of freezing water had been dumped on her neck. She rubbed her palm on her slacks, suddenly feeling terrible for her questioning. “My deepest apologies, Maris.”

“It is fine. I am over it.”

She was lying. Valda could tell, but she would not push the young women to talk about her mother or her past for now. She took another long gulp of the coffee and placed it on the table before searching for the spoon and going back to the oatmeal.

“My father perished when I was a child. I don’t remember much, but I do feel that emptiness. I don’t want to sound pessimistic, but what’s worse of all is that, as time goes by, you start to forget specific details about them. Their voice, their face, their smell.” Valda sighed, losing her appetite. She placed the bowl on the table and stood from the chair. Maris walked to her and grabbed her hand as she guided her to the bed.

Valda wasn’t tired, but she was fatigued. She sat on the edge of the bed and the spot next to her dipped.

She smiled welcomingly, unable to tell if Maris was looking at her. Then she felt Maris’s hand upon hers. She gladly accepted the small show of affection with a light squeeze of her hands.“My mother and general Arwin always tell me that I look just like my father, so I had some solace when I was in front of the mirror. I felt like, wherever he was he would be looking at me from the other side of the reflection.” Valda chuckled at how stupid that sounded, but it was true. Whenever she wore her royal attire and looked at the mirror, it felt like her father was staring right back, proud of the woman she had become.

She hoped wholeheartedly he was proud, wherever he was.

“But now, I can’t even have that.”

“Well, I don’t know how that must feel. I look nothing like my parents. I was adopted.”

Valda’s curiosity was piqued. “Oh? Adopted?”

“I am Sealian, my Princess.”

Valda tensed. Sealian? A Sealian inside Oberon Castle? A Sealian chambermaid? “Really?” Her breath faltered, as she tried to think of the exact time she and Maris met.

Could it be?

“Yes, blue hair and all!” Maris said, her voice cracking with a giggle.

Valda grinned, her chest tightening. “Ah, you must be gorgeous then.”

“I would like to think so.” Her voice was playful, almost flirty.

Valda threw her head back and laughed.

“You know, Princess, before I became your helper, they painted you with such harsh colors.”

Valda chuckled. She could imagine what was said to Maris, yet her curiosity won the best of her. “Such as?”

“Oh, they said I should be careful because you had the tendency of kind of forcing yourself on poor maids.”

“I never force anything. I believe in consent,” Valda said, biting her lower lip. “I always ask for permission.”

“I…Uh—,” Maris stumbled with her words, seeming nervous. “They also said that you have a horrible temper.”

“That’s true.” Valda nodded proudly.

“And that you have done unimaginable things on the battlefield.”

“Also true,” Valda said, rubbing her hands as if she was trying to wipe away stains. She wasn’t proud of all the things she had done. She was either following orders from Arwin, or making last-minute decisions that would save her life. “I am not a good person. Not all the time, at least,” Valda mumbled the last part.

“Is anyone?” Maris whispered. “We all have our darkness to deal with—some more than others.”

“Hmm,” Valda patted her knees, deciding if she should end the conversation at the same time, she wanted to listen to Maris talk more.

Maris, the Sealian appointed by her mother to take care of her. Maybe she was overthinking all of it. There was a possibility that her mother had decided to hire Maris right after the conversation they had in her chamber, maybe her mother appointed Maris to help her, hoping she was the mate the Oracle spoke of.

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