Page 22 of A Vow of Embers

I ignored my throbbing hand while I stalked past where Antiope and a couple of the temple guards were waiting for me, and headed straight back to the temple.

It wasn’t lost on me that this was the second time I had walked away from this house furious with the man inside and the choices he had made.

Chapter Eight

As we were preparing to go to bed, my adelphia sisters asked me to fill them in on everything that had happened during my meeting with the prince. I hesitated for a moment, remembering the oath the prince had exacted. But then I recalled that I had not sworn to him that I wouldn’t speak of it.

Something he had apparently overlooked. I supposed that gave me the win in that particular matchup. I told them everything, leaving out the personal bits about what he and I had done the night of the festival and some of the more terrible insults that we had flung at one another.

I knew my sisters would understand and wouldn’t judge me if I told them, but I didn’t want to relive those memories again. Once had been bad enough.

When I finished recapping the entire interaction, Io gave me a satisfied smile. “I told you he would be reasonable.”

“That’s not the word I would use.”

“He agreed to all your terms, didn’t he?”

I shrugged because I sensed that she was going to try and sell me on her brother again and I didn’t want to hear it. “He didn’t let Quynh go.”

Io lifted up her blanket and climbed in under it. “We both knew he wouldn’t do that. Honestly, I’m a little surprised that he gave in so easily on all the other points.”

I frowned at her. She’d had doubts and sent me in with that list anyway? I sighed as I laid my head against my pillow, pulling my covers up to my chin.

She didn’t seem to realize that nothing about that meeting had been easy. It had been like torture. I hated Prince Alexandros so viscerally that it sucked up all my energy and emotion. I felt lethargic and empty. My body desperately craved sleep, but it was the last thing I could allow.

“Good night,” Zalira called out pointedly, making sure our conversation came to an end. Ahyana yawned and Suri turned on her side, settling in. Zalira then leaned over and blew out the last candle, plunging the room into darkness.

I had resolved to stay awake for as long as possible so that I wouldn’t dream. One moment I was blinking slowly and the next I was standing in my old bedroom in the Locrian palace.

Homesickness struck me so sharply that I had to sit down on the floor so I didn’t accidentally fall down. Why was I here? What kind of trickery was this?

Did Prince Alexandros think that by putting me in my childhood home, I would be easier to manipulate? That was a big mistake.

The door opened and a woman carrying a torch entered the room. She closed the door behind her and then placed the torch into a bracket on the wall. She walked across the room and sat down on my bed. My eyes had to readjust, and when I could see again, I realized that I was looking at my mother.

The homesick ache intensified and then, to my surprise, eased into a peaceful feeling.

I was home. Things were going to be all right. My mother had always been my home.

“Mother!” I called out, but she didn’t hear me. I jumped up and ran over to her, trying to hug her, but my arms passed through her.

Like I was a shade.

For one heart-stopping moment I was terrified that I had somehow died and my shade had made its way back to Locris. I touched my hairand it was down to my waist again. If my shade looked like my body, then I rationalized that I wasn’t dead and this was only a dream.

I stood next to her, watching as tears fell down her face. She looked older. Frail. As if she hadn’t been eating properly. The first thing I would do after the wedding was write to my parents. I would have to be careful about what I said because I was certain that all my correspondence would be read before it went out.

But I had become accustomed to being careful about everything I said and did. This wouldn’t be any different.

My mother held one of my old dolls in her hands, cradling it close. She crooned the lullaby she had always sung to Quynh and me, and now I was the one with tears rolling down my cheeks. I wished I could tell her that I was here.

“Do you know how special you are to me?” my mother said, stroking the doll’s hair. “That your name was chosen for you? From the moment that I knew I was pregnant with you, I was absolutely certain that you were a girl. We were going to name you after your father’s mother. Selena. We would have called you Luna to differentiate between the two of you. We called you Luna for months. I remember how your father used to kiss my belly and call you his ‘little Luna.’ We loved you so much and were so excited for you to arrive.”

Her voice caught and she sobbed once, twice, before finding her voice again. “A week before you were born, I was in the courtyard with the olive tree, using the shade to escape the heat. While sitting there, my back on the trunk, I heard a voice distinctly say, ‘Her name is supposed to be Euthalia.’ As if someone had spoken the words aloud. I thought for sure I had imagined it in some kind of heat-induced delirium. I stood up and called out, asking if anyone was there. But there was only silence.”

I had never heard this story before. I hadn’t ever questioned why they had chosen my name—it hadn’t occurred to me to ask. It made me think of all the conversations that I hadn’t had with them and how much I regretted it. I should have told them about my plans. I shouldhave been honest and asked them more questions. I should have been a better daughter.

It would be all right, though—I would return home and I would be with them again and I would get to hear all the stories they wanted to tell me. I would make things right.