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“Gods above, Maude, I didn’t even recognize you. You look beautiful; please excuse my behavior,” Hakon exclaimed, inclining his head.

“That’s not necessary; you seem distracted,” Maude replied, noticing how distressed Hakon was and waving off the formality of his words.

“Of course. If you’ll excuse me, I must check on Eydis,” Hakon replied quickly, turning to the stairs before they could say anything else.

“Is he going to be okay?” Maude asked as she laced her hand through Herrick’s extended arm again.

“He’s going to have to be,” Herrick muttered but said nothing else.

Realizing he was not going to elaborate further, Maude chose to let the topic drop when she spied the entrance to the Queen's dining room.

The nerves that had plagued Maude for the last few hours hit her in full force.

Her hands started sweating, and nausea roiled in her gut as they got closer to unveiling the mystery around her mother.

“Breathe, minn eldr ,” Herrick offered as he felt her tense. “Ground yourself.”

She gave him a shaky nod when she had completed the exercise that Gunnar had gone through with her to calm herself.

Herrick opened the door for them, and they entered the intimate room.

Maude's heart was pounding in her ears as it had been when she first met the Queen at the entrance to Veter only a few hours ago.

Dimly lit with a few candles around the perimeter of the room, Maude took in the comfortable, unthreatening atmosphere where she would uncover the truth about her mother.

The small table had three place settings, the silver plates and cutlery simple but elegant, with crystal stemware and a decanter filled with an aromatic liquor on the console at the back of the room.

“Wine?” Herrick asked as he strode to the crystal decanter and picked up an empty glass.

“Please.”

She eyed the various paintings adorning the walls, all serene fields and gardens, while she waited for Herrick to bring her the much-needed alcohol.

When he handed her the glass, she downed the entire thing in one swoop.

Herrick only gave her an amused look and handed her his glass while he refilled the other.

“I knew I should’ve brought the whole decanter over,” he said jokingly.

She tried to smile, but it must’ve looked like a grimace.

“She isn’t going to eat you alive, minn eldr ; she only wants to speak with you. To get to know you,” he said quietly, the gentle tone soothing her nerves.

As if his words had summoned her, the Queen of Rivers entered the room they would be inhabiting for the next two hours through supper, looking as regal and graceful as she had on the bridge in the midday sun.

Her gown, a simple cut like Maude’s, shone with a brilliance that looked like molten silver when she moved.

Her chestnut hair had been restyled into one thick, teased braid that ran down the top of her head and hung down behind her back .

She had done away with her crown for this dinner and instead had two silver crescent moon hair pieces braided into her hair on either side of her head that gave her the appearance of horns. Herrick and Maude both inclined their heads to her, fists over hearts.

“There’s no need for such formality, my dear,” the Queen said, grasping Maude's hand from her chest. “You are here as our guest and as the daughter of my dear friend.”

Tears filled the Queen’s eyes that she quickly blinked away before she turned to her son, who leaned down to place a delicate peck on her cheek.

She gave him a fond smile as she patted his cheek in return.

Maude felt a pang of grief and longing at the sight and sipped her wine, tasting the sweet raspberry now that she hadn’t downed the entire glass at once.

“Let’s sit— I have much to tell you, Maude,” the Queen said as she gestured for her and Herrick to sit. Maude noticed her eyes flash to the rune necklace she wore, but the Queen said nothing.

Maude moved to the seat that Herrick had pulled out for her and sat stiffly, aware of the knife in her bodice, whose sharp edge could slice through Maude without her realizing it.

Once she and the Queen had settled into their spots for the evening, Herrick poured wine for his mother and sat across from her with his calm but disarming half smile on his face.

Realizing that she hadn’t said anything yet, Maude commented, “This room is lovely. I wanted to thank you for your generous hospitality and ask that you forgive me for my reaction on the bridge earlier when we first met. I haven’t been called— well, it's been a long time since anyone recognized me, and I was a little shaken, I suppose, Your Majesty.”

Herrick had covered his mouth with two fingers as he leaned back in his chair, hiding a smile at her stiffness.

She shot him a glare, smoothing away a stray hair with her middle finger when the Queen wasn’t looking.

Maude picked up her glass to sip some more wine, finding it was calming her nerves quickly.

“I’m sure it was quite a nasty shock for you, dear. There is no need to apologize; I realize, in my surprise at seeing you at my doorstep, that I did not make the situation any easier for you. I also insist you call me Alva. We need not be so formal.”

Unsure of what to say to her genuine response, Maude nodded, an awkward silence filling the room again.

When she had been growing up at the palace in the Kingdom of Flame, she had always hated the roundabout way that everyone spoke to each other.

Every word was laced with some other meaning, and Maude had found it exhausting and impractical to try to figure out what everyone was actually saying to each other.

She had always been unpleasant to be around in social situations because she was always straightforward and grew irritated quickly when others would not reciprocate.

Perhaps that was why she and Herrick had always gotten right to the point in their conversations.

It was clear that he was raised by those who appreciate clear communication.

Finding no delicate way to steer the conversation toward what she needed to know, Maude decided to just get to the point of their dinner.

“How did you know my mother?”

Alva smiled widely and let out a small laugh.

“Direct, like Sylvi always was,” she said, her tone becoming sorrowful.

“My mother was never direct. She never really spoke unless she was alone with us,” Maude snorted.

“Yes, well, she couldn’t be true to herself when she was playing her part with Harald,” Alva said as she motioned to the steward in the room to bring out the dishes with a gentle wave of her hand .

At the sound of her father’s name, Maude stilled again, hands flat on the table. Fire flooded her veins, images of his honey-colored hair and face twisted in rage, flashing before her eyes. Muscles locked up, her fire straining against the confines of her skin.

Just when she thought her anger would overrule her control, she felt a cool touch on her hand, a drop of water in the raging firestorm that was her soul.

“Breathe. Focus on where you are and not where you have been,” Herrick said gently, the ringing in her ears making his voice sound muffled.

Maude grabbed onto the lifeline he was throwing her, breathing through the waves of fire and shadows that burned in her periphery. “Come back to me, minn eldr .”

Maude’s vision cleared, and she saw Herrick’s hand on hers, the tablecloth beneath her hand burnt and ruined. Alva’s eyes were on their intertwined fingers, seemingly unaware of the burnt cloth.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” Maude said as she removed her hand from his grasp and put out the small fire on the table with quick clench of her fist.

“Maude, it’s all right. You forget, I was friends with your mother, whose temper matched yours.”

Alva snapped her fingers, and the tablecloth began to stitch together, fibers of cotton threading together to create a patch being manipulated by her earth galder .

Maude’s patience began to run out, and the comments about a mother she could not reconcile with her own circled her.

Before the patch in the cloth could be repaired, Maude put her hand on the table, her fingers splaying and curling to keep her from spiraling again.

“You said my mother was playing a part? These things you keep saying about her don’t make any sense to me. My mother never had a temper and certainly never stood up for herself. There must be a mistake. ”

Alva was contemplative as she looked at Maude over the rim of her goblet.

“Maude, did she tell you nothing about herself?” she asked, the silence surrounding them beginning to deafen Maude as the Queen’s words sank in.

“Just tell me who she was to you,” Maude said, her voice leaking the desperation that was beginning to overwhelm her. “Please.”

Alva assessed Maude and seemingly came to a decision.

“Your mother was a spy for the Kingdom of Rivers.”