Samara's Peril

  “That might be difficult if Kaden has to break a certain servant girl’s heart.”

  Kaden scowled again at Aaron, who tried, unsuccessfully, to hide a smile.

  “I’m afraid, Kaden,” Rayad said flatly, “you’ll just have to put up with it for the time being.”

  Kaden released another groan.

  Footsteps echoed in the hall, and everyone fell silent. A moment later, Elian appeared at their door. He scanned the room, and Jace tensed. It would be entirely too easy to be caught in this dangerous masquerade of theirs.

  “Can we help you?” Rayad asked.

  Elian glanced at him, but his eyes settled squarely on Jace. “I need him to come with me.”

  Jace’s heart stalled before beating rapidly in his throat.

  Silence surrounded them until Rayad spoke up, calm, yet firm. “What for?”

  Elian’s gaze did not leave Jace. It was as if he were searching for something. Proof, perhaps, of Jace’s ryrik lineage? It wouldn’t take much for him to find it. Though nothing about the man spoke of ill intent, everything inside Jace shouted to escape the situation.

  “Her ladyship wishes to speak with him.”

  So it was as Jace feared. Why couldn’t he have been wrong about Lady Rachel’s reaction? Why hadn’t he done everything possible to keep a low profile and never given her a chance to notice him? His folly had doomed them all. He could feel it in his gut.

  He steadied himself. No. He would do whatever it took to keep Kyrin and the others out of this.

  “May I ask why?” Rayad questioned.

  Now Elian did look at him. “That’s not for me to say. I was only sent to bring him to her.” He paused for a moment, and his tone lowered. “But I do know it is important.”

  He sent another glance at Jace, though whatever thoughts filled his brown eyes were impossible to guess. Something about them almost looked imploring, yet Jace was no great judge of emotions. If only Kyrin were here.

  Rayad’s voice rose a little in intensity. “You must have some reason you can give us. Why would she need to see one of Lady Anne’s guards?”

  “She only wishes to ask him a few questions.”

  “Then I’m going with him,” Rayad said decidedly.

  Elian shook his head. “She asked to speak with him in private.”

  Jace sensed the tension rising between them. This was exactly what they needed to avoid. Kyrin’s safety depended on it.

  Before Rayad could argue further, Jace stepped forward. “I’ll go.”

  If this concerned his ryrik blood, then he would take whatever consequences it brought. He would not let the others get involved and jeopardize the mission. Maybe, once he explained that he was only half ryrik, Lady Rachel would understand and there would be no trouble. Somehow, though, he didn’t see it being that simple.

  Both Rayad and Elian looked at him. Rayad had an expression of protest on his face, but Jace shook his head and focused determinedly on Elian. “I’ll go with you.”

  The man gave a slow nod. “Thank you.”

  He gestured to the door. Jace glanced around the room. Not one of his friends looked happy about this, but it had to be this way. Rayad had just said that they needed to keep things quiet.

  Elian turned, and Jace followed him out of the room. The guard didn’t say a word as they walked down the hall and up the steps. Jace drew a restricted breath, doing what he could to prepare himself. There was no telling what this meeting would lead to. Strange that Lady Rachel would wish to see him in private. Then again, it was probably better than facing Sir Rothas. Lady Rachel might be more understanding of his situation.

  At the top of the stairs, Elian opened the door and paused, checking the hall before motioning Jace to follow. Jace frowned when he did it at several other points on their way through the house. Why such secrecy? Needle pricks crept along his arms. Something just wasn’t right about this whole thing. If they suspected he was a ryrik, why not just arrest and question him? Elian certainly wasn’t treating him as a potential threat.

  Jace’s heart thudded, heat threading through his arms and warming his hands. There were too many unanswered questions. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or even more apprehensive when they finally stopped at a door. Elian opened it and motioned him inside.

  Jace squeezed his right fist. His instincts rebelled at entering an unknown situation without a weapon, but resisting now was not an option. He stepped cautiously into the small parlor and took it all in with a sweeping look. No immediate threats jumped out at him. Lady Rachel stood near a large window, where sunlight filtered through a set of sheer curtains. Beside her was an older woman—tall, thin, yet regal. A picture of poise and refinement. By the similarities between the two of them, Jace guessed that this other woman was Lady Rachel’s mother, adding a new level to the oddity of this meeting. What in Ilyon could they want with him?

  The door clicked shut. Jace darted a glance over his shoulder. Elian stood there, blocking the exit, though it may not have been intentional. Jace’s attention swung back around to Lady Rachel, who took a step forward. She seemed almost as tentative as he was.

  “Jace?”

  He drew his brows together. How did she know his name? Of course, one of the servants could have informed her… but the way she said it—it was more of a question than merely addressing him.

  “Yes?”

  She drew in her breath and put her hand to her mouth as she looked at the other woman. Then Jace caught a whisper from her lips, something so slight, only he could possibly have heard it.

  “Oh, Elôm.”

  Jace’s heart skipped a beat. What was going on? His thoughts a jumble, he spoke the first thing that came to mind. “How do you know my name?”

  Lady Rachel faced him again, her hand dropping to her chest. Tears pooled in her deep blue eyes, and her voice trembled. “I know because… I named you.”

  Everything stilled. There were no thoughts, no sounds, nothing. Just those words, hanging in Jace’s consciousness with all their many implications. I named you.

  His breath rushed out and a swell of emotions flooded in. A million different thoughts crashed into his mind, but one rose to the top, throbbing through his entire body with the intensity of what it meant. He drew a halting breath, his throat threatening to close up. Something akin to both terror and a deep hopeful longing took hold of him. He opened his mouth and fought to make his tongue work. All the while, she watched him, tears glittering on the very edges of her lashes.

  “You’re . . .” The one word barely made it past his lips. He couldn’t seem to form the rest.

  “Yes,” Rachel whispered, but it didn’t fully sink in until she said, “I’m your mother.”

  Jace took a shallow breath as he watched her tears finally spill over, sliding down her face one after the other. His own eyes burned, and he had to blink to keep her in focus. Could it be true? Did he dare believe it? How could it be? Then it hit him, the realization slamming into his chest like a hammer blow. He was the child Anne had mentioned on the road.

  Weakness gripped his legs, and questions assaulted his mind, all clamoring for answers at once. He could only stand there, barely breathing, not knowing what to say or if he could even speak at all. How did he process it, coming face to face with the mother he had no memories, no knowledge of? Could he trust her?

  Tears still falling heavily, she approached him, one slow step at a time, until she stood looking up into his eyes. Her tears and the emotions… they were real. He couldn’t deny that. With a trembling hand, she reached up and laid it softly against his cheek. He flinched inside, but the warmth of her touch kept him from pulling away. Her other hand covered her mouth again as a weak sob broke free. Then she put her arms around him, drawing him into her embrace. Almost numb, Jace held her lightly as she cried against his shoulder.

  He stood at a loss for a moment until something inside him—something that had lain dormant in his heart for all these years—awakened. He had a mo
ther. He wasn’t just some outcast orphan, a nobody with no name or ties to anyone. He was a son. His embrace tightened, and he closed his eyes against the pressure building in them.

  “I thought you were dead,” his mother’s voice choked out, barely audible.

  Dead. A fear Jace hadn’t even fully realized yet eased. If she had thought he was dead, then she couldn’t have simply abandoned him.

  After a long moment, she finally pulled away, her eyes red and cheeks wet. Jace stared down at her and struggled to contain the most intense emotions he had experienced in a long time.

  “How?” he asked, his voice raw. It was all he could manage, but it encompassed so much. How could he have grown up as a slave without even the slightest scrap of information about his own mother, especially when she had such standing?

  Rachel breathed out a heavy breath, her shoulders drooping as if the weight of that question were almost too much for her. She wiped her cheeks and shook her head. “Oh, Jace, there is so much to tell you, and so much I must know myself.”

  A gnawing desire took hold of Jace to hear every bit of it, but one concern rose above it.

  “My friends.” His voice still came out hoarse. “They need to know… they need to know I’m all right.”

  Rayad was probably pacing their room right now, and if Kyrin found out what had happened, she would be worried sick. Despite the overwhelming need for answers, he could not let them suffer such a wait, for it would surely take hours.

  Rachel nodded and swallowed hard as if still trying not to burst into tears again. “Of course.” Her gaze shifted. “Elian, please show him back downstairs.” When her gaze returned to Jace, her eyes held an earnest plea. “Then would you consider returning to talk?”

  Jace didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” He needed answers as much, if not more, than she did.

  A teary smile flashed across her face, and she touched his cheek once again before pulling back. Finding it difficult to tear his eyes away from her, Jace turned slowly. When he faced Elian, he witnessed clear emotion in the other man’s expression. Even his eyes appeared unusually moist. He cleared his throat and turned to open the door.

  As before, Elian led the way cautiously, though Jace hardly noticed, still reeling. It was like a dream, but he knew enough about dreams to know this was very real. Walking in a daze, he slowed to a stop when they neared the bedroom downstairs. He glanced at Elian, and the man gave him an affirming nod, seeming to understand how overwhelmed he was.

  Jace moved on, his friends’ voices drawing him to their room. Kyrin was there now, questioning them about him.

  “Jace!” she exclaimed when he stepped in.

  Her face wasn’t the only one that lifted in relief. They all looked as though they had been debating whether or not to come after him.

  “Well?” Rayad asked.

  Jace quietly closed the door and leaned back against it. Where did he even begin? Silence reigned, and everyone’s expressions grew more and more serious with every second he didn’t speak. Finally, Kyrin stepped forward. Her eyes searched his with a look of deep concern.

  “Jace, what is it?”

  Breathing out slowly, he spoke the words he never once imagined uttering. “She’s my mother.”

  They all gaped at him in bewildered silence.

  Kyrin shook her head, frowning as if she had not heard him right. “What?”

  “Lady Rachel is my mother.” Each slowly spoken word tasted foreign to Jace. He could hardly wrap his mind around it himself.

  “How?”

  “I… don’t know. We didn’t get to speak much yet, but she recognized me last night.”

  Her face still slack, Kyrin sank down on the edge of the bed. Jace understood how she felt. It was a lot to take in.

  Rayad spoke now, his voice cautious. “Are you sure about this?”

  Of course, Rachel could be anyone. Jace had hardly spent five minutes with her, but he felt surprisingly confident of his answer.

  “Yes.”

  Whether it was an innate sense or simply the emotion she had displayed, he just knew. She had touched something in his heart the moment she’d hugged him.

  With this declaration of surety, questions started to pour from everyone. He had little information to give beyond what his mother had already told him. That would have to wait until after they spoke again. Anxious for these answers, he soon excused himself. Elian was waiting for him at the end of the hall, and led him back upstairs.

  Jace’s heartbeat kicked up on the way to the parlor. Now that it was sinking in, his nerves took over. He had lived with questions about where he’d come from all his life. Now, in one unexpected turn of events, he was about to gain the answers. Part of him feared them. What if knowing was even more painful than not? However, floating at the back of his mind like a warm security blanket were the whispered words only he had heard his mother speak. She had called out to Elôm—not Aertus or Vilai—Elôm, the true God.

  When they reached the parlor, Elian let him go in alone this time. He scanned the room, finding only Rachel. The older woman had gone.

  “She thought it would be good for us to speak alone for now,” Rachel said, guessing his thoughts. She gestured to a chair. He sat on the edge of it and rested his hands on his knees. His mother sat across from him. “She’s my mother, Evelyn… your grandmother.”

  Shock hit Jace again. This should have been obvious, but it had not yet occurred to him that his mother wouldn’t be the only family he had gained from this reunion.

  Already pressure built at the back of his throat. He cleared it and stared at his mother. Neither of them seemed sure where to begin, but Jace had something he needed to know before things went any further. It was a risk, but necessary.

  “I heard you speak the name of Elôm.”

  Rachel’s eyes grew wide, fear flitting through them, and that was enough for Jace.

  “It’s all right,” he assured her, and paused for only a moment. “I believe in Him too.”

  Rachel gasped, the fear melting into tearful joy. “Truly?”

  Jace hesitated, but nodded. He couldn’t tell her what he believed about his soul. Right now, just the fact that he believed was enough.

  Tears dripped down her cheeks, and she dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. “I have no words to express the joy that brings me, especially with how things are around us.” She took a deep breath to compose herself. “I want very much to know how you came to believe, but I realize you must have the most questions. Please, ask me anything.”

  With this invitation, a multitude of questions poured into Jace’s mind, but one above all had always plagued him.

  “How did I get here?” He paused, reluctant. He could think of only one explanation for his next question, and it already made him sick. “I know I’m half ryrik. How did that happen?”

  Rachel’s gaze flickered away from him, but then she looked him in the eyes, her voice quiet and solemn. “I was attacked.”

  Jace’s stomach lurched. It was just as he had expected, but having it confirmed was even more painful than he’d imagined. He breathed hard, a fire kindling inside him at the atrocity. Fighting to come to terms with the violent way he had come into this world, he once again noticed his mother’s youthful beauty. She must have been young when it happened.

  “How old were you?”

  “Sixteen.”

  Jace clenched his fists. She’d barely been more than a girl. Younger than Kyrin.

  “It was a result of significant foolishness on my part,” Rachel admitted, surprising him. “I was upset with my father and rode off alone. The only reason I survived was because my brother and Elian rode out looking for me.”

  This explained, in part, Elian’s emotional reaction to the reunion between Jace and his mother. He had been there at the beginning.

  Jace shuddered at what it must have been like to find her. If it had been Kyrin…

  He cleared his throat again, but his voice was still rough with the rage of
emotions he tried to suppress. “The man who attacked you… is he dead?”

  Rachel looked down again, wincing. “Yes, he was killed.”

  Jace clenched his jaw and nodded. He couldn’t summon any sympathy for the man who was technically his father. Not after what he had done. Only hatred burned inside him—hatred for the man’s actions and for the accursed blood he had passed on to Jace. It took all of his strength to let the anger cool, but even that struggle pointed straight to his father. All he wanted was to force thoughts of the man far away.

  “Then what happened?”

  His mother slowly let out her breath. “Then I tried to deal with it. I’ve been through some hard times, but that will always be one of the darkest. I could barely eat, or talk to anyone for weeks. I couldn’t sleep without having nightmares.”

  Jace’s heart squeezed with compassion at the shared affliction.

  “Just when I was beginning to cope again, that’s when I realized… I was pregnant.” She shook her head, and Jace couldn’t even imagine the horror she had experienced. “I was terrified. I hid it for days, but I only made myself sick until I finally broke down and told my mother. My father immediately sent for the physician, who gave me a drug to end the pregnancy.”

  She paused, and Jace just stared at her, one thought drumming in his mind—how was he even here? Was it his ryrik blood? Had it kept him alive, just like all the other times he had wished to die, but hadn’t?

  She continued slowly, “That vial sat on my dresser for days. I would sit and stare at it for hours. Finally, one day, I dumped it out the window.”

  “Why?” The question broke from Jace. Right or wrong, the fact that she hadn’t taken it, knowing what he was, shocked him. He was a monster, at least according to society. How could she have made that decision?

  A faint smile grew on Rachel’s face. “I wondered that myself at first. I wondered how I could ever go through with it; but you see, after the initial fear, I began to see things differently. I knew you were part of the man who’d attacked me, but you were also part of me. You were my child. And you were just a helpless, innocent baby growing inside me. You hadn’t done anything to deserve to die just because I was afraid.”