“Mine is not power,” Aurie went down, letting a breath out onto the cold wood floor, her back straight as a board. She raised herself, “But Fortitude of His Holy Spirit.”

  Maud scoffed loudly from her bed before flipping the page of the book she had braced open on the legs she curled under her blanket. The cold was drifting through the thin walls and windows of the house. The hearth was barely fighting to keep it warm, yet Maud refused to leave the bed beneath the loft that had become overfilled with boxes and crates. She had chosen to cover herself with layers of blankets instead of using the pelt that Draka had given her—the pelt she had carelessly wrapped those dresses in and thrown in a pile on the other side of the room against the wall as if they were worth nothing.

  Aurie tried to steady her breathing and the shaking of the muscles in her arms. Her abdomen was starting to squeeze. She lowered herself again. “Mine is not sovereignty,” she labored through saying.

  “You can say that again.”

  Aurie shot her a glare, holding herself like a plank above the ground on the tips of her toes. Her muscles were trembling, straining to hold her. “You have something you want to say?”

  Maud shook her head, barely visible beyond her opened book.

  Aurie returned to looking forward. She should have endured the cold of her bedroom rather than in front of the hearth when she got back from Father Hagen’s. Maud was being insufferable.

  She drew in a breath and raised herself. “But vigilance of His Command.”

  She went down again.

  “Mine is not self,” Her abdomen tightened. She raised herself halfway and held it, counting, just as Enya always does. How long can she hold it? Thirty seconds? A minute? Two? She held herself, stiffening her jaw and clenching her eyes.

  Lilith, she let the name flow through her mind. Let that face, those yellow and red eyes that would shine green with the rays of sunlight falling over them, that body that swayed all too sensuously when her intentions were so malicious…murderous. Her muscles trembled. She wasn’t counting anymore. She ground her teeth together. Her neck stretched. There was tightness, an ache, in her stomach, burning her muscles through her abdomen.

  Balor smiled at her.

  Aurie opened her eyes and lifted herself. “But servitude to Jehovah thy God.”

  Maud was leaning sideways to watch her around those bent knees and the blankets spilling over the sides of her bed. Her brows were smushed together. “I’ve never seen Draka do that. You think maybe you’re doing it wrong?”

  Aurie went to the pile of logs beside the hearth and grabbed one of the thick ones before returning to the same spot she was before. She huffed as she lay flat on her back with the thick, heavy log on her chest. “That’s because Draka did this before you were born. Why don’t you explain to me why you’re being a rotten little shit all of a sudden?”

  She took in a breath and, as she lifted her chest while holding the log firm against it until it touched her bent knees, let it out. Her forelegs were held parallel to the ground for three counts before she lowered herself back to being flat on the ground, taking in a long breath the entire way down.

  “I have my reasons,” Maud went back to reading.

  “Explain them,” Aurie raised herself the same way again, this time raising the log straight up over her head and bringing her knees as close to her chest as she could.

  Maud leaned to look again. A single eyebrow was raised. “You first. What the rivers are you doing?”

  “Getting…stronger,” Aurie nearly fell backwards when she lowered the log back to her chest and flattened to the ground to do it again. “I’m not strong enough to train with a sword yet. I need…” She raised the log up, knees back to her chest, forelegs held parallel to the floor again, “…to be able…to…” she dropped flat again, out of breath, “hold it.”

  “Glad I’m not a Paladin, then,” Maud shook at her.

  “Your turn,” Aurie did it again, straining.

  “I know it’s like God called on you and all, but, really, why are you doing all this?” Maud motioned at her.

  “So I can…” Aurie went back to lying on the ground with the log on her chest, “kill Lilith.”

  “Oh,” was all Maud said.

  “Now,” Aurie rolled her head on the floor to look at her, “Are you ready to have an adult conversation about what happened or am I going to be dealing with my teenage daughter all over again? If you want me to give you a list of chores and force you to stay inside for a week, I can do that, you know. I’m sure Alice will love babysitting a twenty-two-year-old like she’s a child.”

  Maud glowered at her. “That’s not necessary.”

  Aurie set the log to the side and sat up to face her. She crossed her legs and threw her hands on her knees at her daughter. “Then, it’s time you start acting like it. Talk to me. That’s what I’m here for. I’m still your mother.”

  Maud closed her book and tossed it to the end of her bed before rotating herself to sit on the edge of it. She stared at the floor in front of her—or maybe it was the pile of dresses over that pelt. “I don’t…I don’t want to, alright.”

  Aurie should have expected that. She didn’t wait for another word before standing up. She grabbed the log and set it beside her bedroom door before slapping the dust from her clothes.

  “How long did you know?” Maud finally asked.

  Aurie considered which answer she should give. Should she say that it was when Draka came to her? When he was basically asking her permission to skewer the boy after catching them kissing in one of the small glades near the river? Or should she mention when Aurie noticed their blossoming attraction on the way to Strasbourg?

  She decided to say it plain as she could, “I knew you two would, eventually, from the moment I saw you two together on the way to Strasbourg.” She was still not certain telling her about Draka’s experience would be a good idea…

  “And Draka?”

  Shit. Aurie let out a beleaguered sigh. “He didn’t know until a couple days before the hunting trip. That’s when he saw you and Karl by the river. He came to me about how to handle it and I was the one who told him to wait until you or Karl approached him.”

  Maud still didn’t look her way and she didn’t move from beside the bedroom door. She felt the distance between them as if it had become a dozen farm fields.

  “Why didn’t you just say something?” Maud was hunched over. “Why didn’t you come to me? I would have told you that I had been telling him to go to Draka for weeks, but he kept coming up with excuses over and over and over. And when he finally did…it was for nothing. If I had known…”

  Aurie winced at what she would say next.

  “I would have never kissed that plowing heap of…” Maud stopped herself to wipe at her eyes. She growled at a whisper, “Shit. How did you know that was what he was? You and Draka, you knew, didn’t you? How?”

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  Aurie sighed with relief. Of all the things, this wasn’t what she expected from this conversation. Her eyes turned upward in silent thanks.

  She sat beside her with a comforting hand on her back, “He was supposed to be our guard. There are rules for guards. Very specific ones, especially when they’re knights. And by kissing you, by allowing you to fall in love with him, he broke pretty much all of them. The only one he didn’t break was getting you pregnant. Had he done that—”

  “Draka would have killed him.”

  Aurie bit the side of her lip and nodded with a sideways tilt of her head. “Probably, yes.”

  “But,” Maud turned to her with crushed brows, “Couldn’t that have meant that he loved me so much that he was willing to give up all that for me, too? I mean, if he had—actually—given anything up…that son of a BITCH!”

  “MAUD! Shame on you,” Aurie slapped Maud’s knee.

  “That’s why Draka made him choose, isn’t it? If it was love, he would have given it all up for me,” Maud shook her head. Then she poured her head into her hands. “I’m so stupid! Such a stupid, stupid girl! How could I be this stupid?”

  Aurie shrugged, “At least he was a knight and not a shoemaker. You definitely did better than me on that one.”

  Maud lifted her dreary face to look at her. There was a slight hint of a smile there. Small, but it was there. “I am a King’s ward, after all. Whether I like it or not, apparently.”

  Aurie pursed her brow at that. “You’re a Princess.”

  Maud shook her head. “No, I’m not.” The tears were really flowing now. She was shaking her head, her face twisting and squeezing with pain. “I really messed things, Maman. I really hurt him, Maman. I was so mad and I hurt him because I was so mad and he threw me out because I said I didn’t want anything from him and I hate him for what he did to Karl and he said I can’t do that because it was a death oath to Pa that can’t be broken and that I would always be taken care of but I—hurt him. He—he—he—he—called me Miss Clevlan.” She collapsed into Aurie’s lap in a fit of sobs.

  Muffled by her lap, Maud’s shrill weeping called out, “And he would have made sure Karl’s discharge meant nothing—ing—ing!”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Aurie rolled her eyes, “Of course he would have. Draka’s not a monster. What did you think he would have done? Sit up.”

  Maud pushed herself up, all red faced and frizzy black hair, her emerald eyes aglow from crying. Her nose was bright red and running. She ran a sleeve across it.

  Aurie couldn’t help seeing the little girl again as she lifted the end of Maud’s blanket to wipe at those tears on her face. “One, Draka is…Draka. He’ll be fine. All you need to do is go over there, tell him how you actually feel, and continue as before, and he will find it a relief that he has one less thing to worry about. Trust me, it will be that easy with all he has to deal with right now. Second, I have no idea how your father and I managed it, but there is no doubt in my mind…”

  “What?” Maud blinked at her, sniveling.

  “We definitely raised a spoiled rotten little shit of a princess,” Aurie shook her head.

  Maud smiled a little. “I am spoiled, aren’t I?”

  Aurie nodded, “The worst. So, I’m not saying you should let him adopt you, but maybe you should talk to him the way you talked to me.”

  Maud lay her head back down on her mother’s lap. “Did you know that he made an oath to Pa?”

  Aurie felt her mouth go dry as she nodded. “I did, yes. It was your father’s last words that Draka take care of us.”

  “Did Draka tell you that?”

  Aurie blinked away the welling in her own eyes, “God revealed it to me. I saw all of it.”

  Maud pushed herself up. “Like what?” She peered deep into Aurie’s eyes.

  Aurie hesitated. Of all people, Maud can’t be the first person to know. She would run straight to Draka and the way she would tell him…would make things worse between them. She had to be careful. She had already said too much. She could feel the unspoken command already forming within her bones for silence on that matter.

  “Draka’s mourning, Maud,” Aurie decided was a better thing to mention. “Adrian’s father was a close friend of his.”

  “Oh?” Maud shifted so that she wouldn’t fall back onto Aurie’s lap. “I didn’t know that. Who’s Adrian’s father?”

  Aurie mulled it over for barely a breath. “Someone very dear to him, close as a brother to Draka. Probably the closest thing in the entire world he ever had to family.”

  Maud sank her shoulders. “And I just…” She put her head in her hands.

  “I’m only telling you because I think you should maybe give him a few days to himself, let him have some time,” Aurie watched Maud’s skin lighten and her brows crease. “Let him sort things out. And, maybe, during that time, you’ll have some time to figure out exactly what you want. Who knows, maybe he’ll find some roundabout way to make you a princess and a Clevlan at the same time?”

  Maud shook her head. Her face was drooping with the heaviness of a broken heart. Aurie winced. She was doing it again, like she always does. ‘You push and you push and you push,’ she heard Balor’s voice in her head. She pulled Maud into a tight embrace.

  “I’m sorry, sweety,” Aurie said with her cheek buried in her daughter’s dark braids, “I didn’t mean to..,” She trailed off. After a deep breath and a pause, she leaned back from her. She brushed Maud’s hair back and wiped the tears from her cheeks, catching those glowing emerald eyes, “I’m proud of you for standing by your father on that.”

  Maud’s brows pressed together. “You are?”

  Aurie nodded. “I am.”

  Maud grinned, leaning into Aurie’s palms.

  “I’ve always been proud of you,” Aurie’s grin widened. She kissed Maud’s forehead. “So, stop feeling sorry for yourself. And stop taking it out on me. And stop taking it out on Draka because he’s proud of you, too. He might be a little hurt, because he’s…confused by your reaction.”

  Maud frowned a little at that.

  “He thought it was what you wanted,” Aurie shrugged, wiping new tears—fewer than before—from her cheeks with her thumbs, “But I'm sure he understood your reasons once you told him. At least, before you went over there with all that. If you want me to, I can go talk to him for you, maybe I can help—ease things over before you talk to him, just in case.”

  She could feel Maud’s heart quicken its pace. Maud was trembling with a thought that burst out in a quieted, yet shrill, “You don’t think I pushed him to casting me out, do you? I mean, he wouldn’t, would he? Did I? Please—I did, didn’t I?”

  Aurie winced, “I don’t know, sweety. Everyone has their limits. We’ve treated him like he’s our family, but you…” She stopped herself when she saw that Maud was shaking as terribly as she did before Draka ever became part of their lives.

  “I told him he wasn’t.” Maud said flatly, her eyes to the floor. There were no tears to wipe away. She was accepting it.

  “I’ll talk to him once I finish with my meetings,” Aurie wasn’t asking anymore. Maud may have made the decision in her anger, but Aurie already knew she wasn’t willing to cast Draka out…for anything. Anyone. No, she thought with an inward curiosity and a hint of confusion, not anyone. “Let me ask you something, and I want you to answer with the honest truth.”

  Maud looked into her eyes. They were almost blue now. Aurie had to remind herself what she was going to say next the moment she noticed that. Yet another thing she would approach Father Hagen about. He seemed aware of the smallest things like that. There had to be something there. Maud’s eyes didn’t change color before she was healed. They were always green. Now, they wavering back and forth between the two colors. Back to what she was going to ask…

  “How do you actually feel about Draka? Deep down?”

  Maud said, without blinking, “I love him as I do Pa, and…I…” She hesitated, her eyes shifting sideways and her lips pinched with them.

  “What?”

  Maud let out a deep breath and shook her head, her jaw stiffening right before Aurie’s eyes, “And, I hate him for that.”