Page 15 of Magdalene Nox

Candace, however, for all her previous perceptiveness, barreled on and didn’t note the pain or the hope in Magdalene’s eyes, which she knew she hadn’t been quick enough to disguise.

“You shouldn’t have stayed married to that wastrel for fifteen years. You should have given it no more than two, then gotten a divorce and moved on. Time is always a woman’s biggest enemy. Smith women stay young longer—with appropriate surgical work, which you should really start looking into—but it truly wasn’t at all smart of you to put all your stocks into that man. I thought I’d taught you better than that.”

Talk about whiplash.

“Well, if you mean you taught me by example…” Magdalene raised an eyebrow and left the sentence dangling, infusing it with a touch of venom—mostly to feel better about herself in this particular moment, certain that she’d regret goading her mother, eventually. She didn’t appreciate being told that, despite years of pouring herself into a relationship, it failed anyway. That she had been either too much or not enough. Five years later, and Magdalene still tried to puzzle out which one it was, or whether both could be true at the same time. And her mother rubbing salt into old unhealed wounds, even if to cauterize them, wasn’t something she needed right now.

But Candace didn’t take the bait.

“I lived my life the way I wanted, Magdalene. Every decision was mine and mine alone. Nobody and nothing determined the course of my destiny.”

Her mother’s eyes, so like her own, sparked with something Magdalene couldn’t decipher, and she wasn’t about to attribute anything affectionate to Candace. Not when she had the ability to strike with vicious precision in the most heartwarming of moments.

“Are you saying I haven’t done as I choose?”

Candace got up to stand by her, and after a breath, another, raised a veiny, perfectly manicured hand and—with meticulous care and precision—placed it on Magdalene’s shoulder. Her mother didn’t touch anything but her sleeve, and Magdalene figured that was a most deliberate choice. Nonetheless, even through the layer of wool, she felt Candace’s warmth, diluted as it was.

“I am saying that I never stopped. In one place, with one man. I never allowed one thing to become my sole focus, my girl.”

And this time, the appellation, one that she’d heard mostly as a term of possession throughout her life, sounded—dare she believe?—sincere. Still, Magdalene waited for the sharp edge of the knife, because this was her mother after all, and both honesty and warmth always came at a price where Candace was concerned.

But nothing followed, and her mother quietly lowered her hand and sat back down, occupying the seat Magdalene had vacated earlier, and slowly leafed through the papers strewn across the coffee table.

“I heard about some of the changes in that wretched place, you know. I didn’t realize things were this dire.”

Hearing that her mother had been keeping up with current events at Dragons, Magdalene bit her lip, trying to limit her outward reaction as much as possible. Inwardly it was a different story, altogether.

The woman who had either shuffled her from place to place, forgot about her entirely, or used her as a convenient prop at her numerous weddings, had not only understood the importance of Dragons to Magdalene, but kept her finger on the pulse of said importance. Magdalene threw her a surreptitious sideways glance, but Candace just lifted an elegant, bony shoulder.

“It’s right there.” Another shrug, this time in the direction of Suffolk and the Atlantic Ocean. And Dragons. “Plus, Stanton and his cronies are all rather visible figures at all the society events.”

Stanton… Magdalene’s suddenly cold fingers involuntarily lifted to her sternum as her mother continued. She took a few inadvertent steps towards the sofa.

“He is planning on running again, you know?” Candace, who was still leafing through the papers, stopped at a particular one for a long moment before handing it to Magdalene. She reached for it on instinct. The faculty list.

“I didn’t know, mother. Running for what?” List in hand, her eyes roamed across the spreadsheet, trying to keep up with her mother and perhaps anticipate where the next slap would come from—or at least figure out what hidden treasure or trap was among the twenty-something names. Her fingers were still cold, and her heart was beating in overtime, filled with the same hatred she’d felt upon seeing Stanton Alden in New York. Just like in that moment, Magdalene didn’t know what she hated more, Dragons or this man who’d taken it away from her. And if it were him, what would that bode for Dragons then?

“Governor. He’s not a big enough deal within the party to pursue anything on a national level. And he has too much baggage.”

Ah… Gossip.There was really precious little that brought this particular level of vicious joy to Candace’s face beyond rumor and innuendo. She carefully lowered the paper in her hand and perched on the sofa directly opposite her mother. Granted undivided attention, Candace’s bicolored eyes turned avaricious.

“He has changed his will.”

Magdalene exhaled slowly, the desire to roll her eyes strong, but she realized it would end whatever moment of confidence they were sharing.

“I don’t even want to know how you have this absolutely privileged information, mother. Are you sleeping with his lawyer?”

Candace had the decency to look sheepish.

“In any case, his boys all died, the eldest, Edward–you remember him. Tall, blond, very handsome. The one I thought would perhaps be good for you. Before they caught you with Hilda, that is—”

“What?”

Her head spun. Candace knew? Her mother hadn’t introduced her to a potential suitor, because she was aware of her queerness? It had been thirty years. Surely, if Candace knew, Magdalene would have never heard the end of it.

“What, what?” Another shrug, but this one just a touch contrived. Magdalene had developed a finely-tuned Candace bullshit-radar, honed by years of practice. So she continued to stare down her mother until Candace relented. “If you think for a second that I didn’t know why my only child was thrown out of what was the most prestigious boarding school in New England… Not that it’s not a pile of trash now.” The latter part had been mumbled under her breath.

They looked at each other then.

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