Page 3 of The Exile's Curse

Home.

The thought still made her grin, but there was a curl of anxiety beneath the joy. She had to begin again. Find her way. Face the past.

Deal with the mess.

She didn't even have a clear idea where she stood legally. The emperor had declared her free of any culpability in relation to Charl, so she had nothing to worry about there. But Charl had been found guilty. Where did that leave her? The emperor hadn’t declared his property forfeit. As his wife, by rights, some of his estate should have come to her. Not that it had been large. They had lived in a small townhouse owned by his father, and she imagined the family would have long since reclaimed it.

Had they returned any of her belongings? Returned them here? Her parents hadn't mentioned it yet, but she'd left clothes and books and other small things behind. She'd taken what jewelry she could when she fled—nothing that had belonged to the de Montesse family, not wanting to have theft added to any claims that might fall against her—but the pieces Charl had bought her and that she'd already owned when they'd wed. Along with the small reserve of coins Charl kept in a lockbox in his study. It had been enough for her passage to Anglion and to keep her safe during those first months of trying to establish herself anew.

She had returned home with a far healthier balance of funds, having sold her business in Anglion, but not many possessions. Carin, who bought the store, was planning to live above it, as Chloe had, and had paid extra for the furniture. So Chloe had left it and most of her other household items, bringing with her only a few favored vases and pictures and the mirror from her dressing table, which had been one of the first things she'd bought for herself in Kingswell.

Other than that, she returned with clothes, cash, her medicine chest, and notes from her years of working in her store—potions and remedies and such she'd learned or developed—and a few supplies that would be scarce in Illvya. At least until the emperor and the new queen restarted a more regular trade system between the two countries.

So her new life—or new old life—came with only a simple beginning in terms of belongings. Albeit with a somewhat more complicated one in terms of just about everything else.

At least she didn't have to worry about finding a place to live and immediate employment. She rather thought the opposite might be true, that her parents might just try to keep her as close to them as they could for as long as possible.

For now, she was happy to stay. To soak up the pleasure of being reunited without rushing to determine what her future might hold.

Time enough to worry about that in the days to come.

Today, she could just let herself be Chloe.

She smiled and stretched her arms above her head. The sounds of the house stirring below were familiar, as was the smell of bacon and fresh bread and the strong Elenian coffee her mother favored over the tea that was more popular in Lumia. She'd missed coffee like fire for her first few months in Anglion. No one drank it there. It wasn't grown on the island, nor was it one of the few rare imports exchanged with the empire.

Maybe she would have lost the taste for it. Or maybe not. The smell was making her mouth water.

So. She was home. Breakfast was waiting.

Time to begin.

Two days later, she was starting to think that simply beginning was not so simple when a note arrived from Imogene. Her mother handed it to her with a carefully neutral expression and took a seat on the sofa beside her. The small parlor was filled with sunshine and festooned with yellow flowers that made it feel like spring, but the sudden tension in the air added a chill.

Chloe opened the letter, scanning the contents with eager eyes.

"And what does the duquesse have to say?" her mother inquired. She didn't sound enthusiastic.

Back in Anglion, in the wake of the excitement of their unexpected reunion, Imogene had been strangely reticent to talk about Chloe's family. She had reassured Chloe that they were all well and provided some brief details, such as the fact that Chloe had brothers-in-law and nieces and nephews she’d never met. Having seen how her family, in turn, went quiet and stiff every time Chloe mentioned Imogene's name, she now understood why. Clearly things had become strained between them after Chloe left. It was time to address the issue.

"Mama, Imogene was my best friend. I’m hoping she will be again. Nothing Charl did was her fault."

Her mother winced, her dark eyes glancing away. Her hair had streaks of gray amongst the earth-witch red now, and she was still thinner than Chloe would have liked. Not as deathly thin as she had been at the worst of her illness, but not the strong and healthy mama of Chloe's youth. The peach tones of her dress added color to her face but not quite enough. "You met that man at Imogene's betrothal ball. You cannot deny that much."

She flicked her fingers dismissively, a gesture that struck Chloe as oddly Illvyan. But then many things had struck her as oddly Illvyan over the last three days. Even the language—though she found it returned easily enough to her lips—sounded both strange and familiar after a decade of the harsher sounds of Anglion.

"No. That much is true," Chloe agreed. "But Imogene didn't throw me into his path or force me to marry him." No, Chloe, smitten by Charl's looks and charm, had done the throwing and the reckless plunge into marriage all by herself. Imogene had actually suggested she take things more slowly. But Chloe, with her dreams of a career stymied by her mother's health and her head turned by the glamor of Imogene and Jean-Paul's rapid romance, had ignored that advice. Marriage had seemed a chance at adventure of another kind.

There had been many times that Chloe wished she could go back and change that moment. Take back the words and never ask Imogene to introduce her to Charl. But she had never blamed Imogene for what happened afterward. That was on Chloe's head. And Charl's. And, of course, Lucien's.

No. Donotthink of that man.

She squared her shoulders. "None of it was Imogene's fault," she repeated. "You need to be kind to her. I doubt I have many friends left. And she did, after all, invade Anglion to find me." Granted, it had been part of a larger invasion, but Chloe knew it was Imogene—and her sanctii, Ikarus—who had focused on finding her during the craziness that had been the night Sophie returned to Anglion and became queen amidst rebellion and chaos. Her mother bowed her head a moment, then lifted it and smiled. The expression was somewhat strained, but her voice sounded genuine when she said, "If she has been a true friend to you, then I will be happy to see her again."

"Actually, she's invited me to tea at her townhouse," Chloe said. "So you can avoid her a little longer."

This time the wince that crossed her mother's face was impossible to miss.

Chloe reached out and took Ana’s hand, the bones of it feeling fragile under the skin. "Mama, it is perfectly safe. Imogene will send a carriage for me and return me promptly. I promise no one is going to steal me away." No one had stolen her away the first time. She had taken herself away, in the dead of night.

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