Page 16 of Ringmaster (The Kingdom of Shadow & Bone #1)

Mercy

Asnap of twigs in the distance has me jumping, glaring over my shoulder at nothing.

In the garden, the morning sun warms me as I tend to each row.

Every sound has me on high alert, twisting to greet it with a garden spade held defensively.

I suck in a breath, once again threatening nothing but air.

My body is tense, waiting in anticipation for the creature to reappear.

The memory of it sends my heart racing. It was hideous, with all those wings flapping and curling.

Whatever it was, it intended to harm us.

A shiver runs up my spine. I’m thankful Tavien was with me; otherwise, I might not be here.

“Mercy,” my mother calls from the small cobblestone patio overlooking the garden.

I look up to find her standing there with a tray full of tea.

Normally, she waits for me to finish my morning chores before bringing it.

I follow the small path running through the garden rows back to where she’s placing everything on the table.

I take a seat across from her and wait, dread building in my stomach.

“Mercy, you know you can talk to me about anything, right?” she asks, tenderly reaching for my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

I don’t meet her gaze. “Yes, Mama.”

“Well,” she pries, “I know the other night was upsetting, and we haven’t talked about that. You’ve also been off since Tavien brought you home yesterday. Is there something going on?”

I’m in shock. All I can do is blink while trying to process her question.

I thought I was doing a good job of hiding my emotions, but obviously I’m not.

My throat feels too dry to talk. My hands shake as I pour cream, then swirl honey into my steaming cup.

Chancing a glimpse at my mother’s face, I peek at her over the rim of my glass as I bring it to my lips.

The warm caress of liquid seeps down my throat, coating it in the honey, which soothes the aching dryness gathered there moments before.

Her face is concerned, and there’s a hint of something else—like she, too, is keeping a forbidden secret.

“So?” my mother continues to push for a response.

There’s no way I want to discuss my kiss with her, so I opt for the easier of the two conversations. “Yesterday, when we were walking home, we were attacked. That’s why Tavien wanted to talk to Father.”

She gasps. “You were attacked, and no one in this family saw fit to inform me of it?”

Her words cut into me as guilt floods my senses.

It was unfair to keep it from her, but selfishly, I didn’t want to be banished to the house.

She’s always trying to keep me hidden away and protected.

Suddenly, I question if there’s something more to this.

The other kids never stopped attending school or completed home studies work.

Suspicion gnaws at my thoughts as I formulate a response.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you, but I didn’t want to be trapped here.” My confession crumples her face.

“I was afraid this is why you kept a secret from me,” she whispers.

“Why? What are you not telling me?” I demand, taking what might be my only opportunity for a confession.

“What are you not telling me, Mercy? What attacked you?”

She said what, not who. She knows more than she’s letting on. “A six-winged, hideous creature. But Tavien couldn’t see it.”

I wait for her to tell me to stop with my stories or accuse me of lying.

But she doesn’t. My mother stares at me in a silent submission—an acknowledgment she knows this creature is real, and maybe there’s something more to her actions.

I wait for her to offer something in return, but it’s clear she’s not willing to share anything further.

“If you aren’t going to tell me, you’re driving a wedge between us. I deserve to know why I’m never allowed out of your sight. And don’t tell me it’s because you love me so much.”

I blink back a tear, steadying my trembling voice, and continue, “Tell me why I’m being followed and attacked. Explain to me why I’m not allowed to see Azrael.”

I fire question after question. “Why does my father hate me so much he wants to sell me off?” My chin quivers as I fight to hold myself together.

“I’m not ten anymore. I’m almost twenty-two. I should be falling in love and building a life. Instead, I’m forced to remain here—hidden away from the world. I’m so lonely. All I have is Miriam.” I clamp my jaw shut, almost letting her secret slip. I won’t betray Miriam.

My mother looks at me, on the verge of tears. Normally, I would break and apologize, but not this time. I’m so angry. I’m so tired of living with constant fear.

“You’re right. You deserve to know. I guess it’s time I finally tell you the truth.”

I stare at her in disbelief. It feels too easy.

“The truth? What have you been hiding from me, Mother? I trusted you. I’ve always cared for you and trusted you. Have I not been a good enough daughter to you?” I ask, fighting back the tears threatening to escape.

“Finish your tea, and then come sit with me inside. I will tell you everything, but not out here. Not where someone might hear us.” My mother stands, cup and saucer in hand, strolling inside as if in a daze.

I gulp my tea down in four swallows. What can the truth be?

My pulse quickens, the tea already turning in my stomach as I try to fathom what my mother could possibly be hiding.

Standing, I place my empty cup and saucer on the tray.

My feet are heavy as I trudge my way into the house, casting one last look at the sun in longing as dread consumes me.

Inside, I find she’s already washed her dishes and is sitting on the sofa, staring ahead blankly. If she notices me come in, she doesn’t acknowledge it. First, I wash my dishes, then I sit down next to my mother, turning to face her.

“Please, Mother. Tell me everything.”

She nods, opening and closing her mouth, then clears her throat. We sit in an uncomfortable silence for several minutes. The air feels heavy and thick. It’s hard to breathe. In the background, birds chirp happily outside the window.

“Mother,” I plead, “tell me.”

She blinks, her facial features unfreezing as if she was lost in the memories she’s hiding from me. Wringing her hands, she takes a shaky breath. “Promise me, Mercy, that you’ll find a way to forgive me.”

My stomach drops, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. The room spins and I swallow back the urge to be sick. I can’t bring myself to promise. I nod my head in agreement, desperate for the truth.

“I was twenty. Your father and I were recently married. I met him during the trade wars. Like Miriam, I worked in my father’s market. He arrived on one of the many ships of refugees.”

This isn’t new information. I know how my parents met and that my grandfather offered my father a job at one point, but he refused any handouts. Relaxing slightly, I lean into the sofa, waiting for her to explain.

“The factory didn’t exist yet, and the high lords were paying a lot of money to recruit men for recovery missions.

They were to sail to the other cities across the different seas in order to track down missing supplies or trades that were looted.

They also spread the word about moving to the continent—gathering more refugees with the promise of work and a better life.

” Her shoulders shake as she fights to maintain her own composure.

“Your father was gone on one of these missions when it came to me. A creature of the Divine with many wings and a beautiful voice. It convinced me I was special. Whispered secrets to me and made me promise never to tell anyone else about it.” She chokes back a sob.

I reach for my mother’s hands, dreading whatever is coming next. “What happened, Mother?” I coax gently.

“I stupidly believed it, and it came to visit me nearly every time your father was gone. One night the creature appeared, talking on and on about how special I was and forgiveness, about the importance of our secret, and then—” Another sob rips from her chest.

It takes her a few breaths to recover, and then she continues her story. “He forced me to bed him. He returned each night, like clockwork or a curse. For forty nights, I endured him. And then, without a word, he vanished.” She wipes a tear away, and I fight the urge to hug her.

“Your father came home twenty days later, and by then I already knew I was with child. I missed my blood. I wasn’t taking the tonic because there was none to take. Our supplies were being destroyed, looted, and raided.”

“Oh, Mama,” I gasp.

“I’ve always suspected you aren’t his. You look nothing like him. You were born with eyes too old and silence too loud. Even as a baby, I knew… you were touched by something not entirely human.” She hesitates, unsure whether to continue.

“You can tell me, Mama,” I urge.

“The reason we fight is because he has always suspected it, too. The dates didn’t add up, and we both knew it, but my midwife lied for me.

She kept insisting it was normal for the first birth to take a little longer sometimes, but he’s always had his doubts.

” Tears slide freely down her face, and I reach for her, sobbing into one another until neither of us has anymore tears left to cry.

“So you think I’m part… whatever that thing is?”

I thought learning the truth would make me feel real. But now I just feel cursed.

My mother nods solemnly. “I do.”

“But then, why did it attack us?” I ask, more to myself than to her.

“I don’t know, but I’ve tried to hide you—to keep you safe. Mercy, I don’t know what the Divine are planning or what they would do to you. It’s for the best you stay here. It’s safe inside the house.” Her declaration catches my attention.

“What do you mean, it’s safe?”

Guilt drenches her face. “I had the house and all the property surrounding it warded. An old priestess created them for me, promising you would always be safe inside the wards, and you’d remain undetectable.”

“So this is why?” I whisper, finally understanding.

She nods. “I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner.”

“It’s okay, Mother. I forgive you.” I mean each word. I forgive her. The love she has for me is bigger than this universe.

We spend the rest of the day working through the chores side by side, and when night arrives and my father returns from his day, I look at him with a newfound understanding.

Maybe they could have been happy. Maybe things would be different if not for my existence.

It almost makes the things he’s done forgivable.

But I can never forgive him for the secrets he’s forced me to keep, and the things he’s done to me, even now. Even knowing I’m not his child.

We eat in silence until my father clears his throat. “I have an announcement.”

He doesn’t wait for either of us to respond. “I have found a suitor for you, Mercy, and today we agreed on a price. You’ll be married by year’s end. The deal is done.” He smiles, as if truly overjoyed to finally be rid of his reminder.

I smile back, faking my enthusiasm. “That’s wonderful news.”

“Yes, dear. You’ll make a beautiful bride.” My mother smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

We make small talk with my father until he retires for bed, and once my chores are complete, I excuse myself to take a bath.

I wash quickly, not allowing my thoughts to dwell on anything from my mother’s confession. And even though it isn’t safe, I’ve decided I need to see him. I have to tell Azrael. He’s the only one who might understand. I want him to tell me everything will be okay—like he has so many times before.

There’s just one problem: he doesn’t have a show tonight, and I’m not sure how to find him.

If I get caught sneaking into the circus, it could mean trouble for both of us.

My father made it very clear I’m not allowed to see him.

If he finds out I’m sneaking off to the circus, he might marry me off even sooner.

Despite my complaints this morning, I don’t want to be married.

I need to convince Azrael to do something—anything—to stop it from happening.

Hours later, when I’m certain the entire town is fast asleep, I climb out my window in my nicest nightgown, and my fancy knee-length jacket wrapped over it to protect me from the cool nighttime air.

My selfish desires far outweigh any consequences I can imagine.

I no longer care what the man I call father will do.

I’ve lived under his silence, his rules, his hatred, and I’m done obeying.

Whatever consequences come, let them. I jog through the shadows to the big top, its outline dark and foreboding on the edge of town.

I hope Azrael will bring me the comfort I’m so desperately seeking.