Page 22 of Kingdom of Locks

“Oh, Aurelia,” said Mama Gail, her posture softening at last. She laid one of her hands against Aurelia’s cheek, a gentle smile of reassurance on her face as she met the younger woman’s eyes. Aurelia was sure her mother could see the insecurity she tried so hard to hide. “He’s wrong about pretty well everything,” said Mama Gail calmly. “So it should come as no surprise to us that he’s wrong about that as well.”

Aurelia nodded, closing her eyes briefly. Her mother’s hand was rough from years of effort, but it was comforting nonetheless. For a moment, Aurelia was a small child again, her heart shattering and her world falling apart as Mama Gail tried to explain why Cyfrin had ridiculed Aurelia for calling her Mama that evening.

She could still remember the feeling of being unmoored when the only mother she’d ever known explained for the first time about the parents who’d brought Aurelia into the world. About the mother who’d loved her and lost her, and who was now gone forever. About the father who, at that time, was still out there somewhere, but about whom Mama Gail seemed reluctant to talk much.

“So you’re not my real mother?” Aurelia had whispered, her little heart breaking a tiny bit more.

“Not real?” She could still picture Mama Gail’s indignant face. “Don’t I look real to you?”

Aurelia hadn’t answered, her gaze dropping to the floor as tears dripped down her nose. All at once, she’d felt a familiar hand tilting her chin up, until two pairs of blue eyes locked.

“I’m as real as you are,” Mama Gail had assured her in her steady way. Taking Aurelia’s small, pudgy hand, she’d laid it over her own heart. “My love for you is as real as this heartbeat. And nothing can ever take it away. Don’t listen to what that man says. None of it is real.” She’d leaned her head forward, until her forehead and Aurelia’s were touching. “But we’re real,” she’d said. “You and me. Mother and daughter.”

And just like that, the crippling loneliness had drifted away. Isolated as they’d always been, Aurelia had never felt alone again, no matter what poison Cyfrin spewed at her.

The seventeen-year-old Aurelia opened her eyes, looking into a familiar face that was more lined than it had been back then, but no less determined. And currently watching Aurelia with a searching gaze.

“What else did Cyfrin say?”

Aurelia sighed, pulling back from both her mother’s comforting hand and her own memories.

“I don’t know, Mama Gail. I got angry when he said you’re not my mother, and he laughed at me for accusing him of trying to be my father. He said that’s the last thing he wants to be.” She grimaced. “As if it’s a surprise that he wouldn’t want to be associated with me. Now, if he could claim my hair as his offspring…”

She trailed off, frowning as she saw tension return to her listener’s frame.

“I don’t like it,” Mama Gail muttered, apparently to herself. “I don’t like it at all.” She frowned toward the closed door of Cyfrin’s study. “Can you get started on dinner without me, Aurelia? I want to look through his notes again, see if I can find anything about this new project of his.”

“But he didn’t even go in there tonight,” Aurelia objected.

Mama Gail was already halfway to the study, and she didn’t break stride. “Yesterday it sounded like he was almost ready to begin whatever it was,” she said over her shoulder. “He must have been planning it for a while. As far as I can tell, he keeps any notes that could be incriminating here, where no one can ever find them. Surely there’s something in there about his plans.” Her voice dropped to a mutter again, and Aurelia barely heard it as she passed through the protected doorway. “And if it’s what it seems, it’ll happen over my dead body.”

A thrill of fear went over Aurelia at the image. Whatever her mother wasn’t telling her, she had a terrible feeling it was going to change everything. And not for the better.

Chapter Six

Amell sat astride his horse, trying not to fidget as he waited for his father to appear.

“You’re making the poor creature nervous, Your Highness,” said Furn, his lips tilted in a smile.

Amell sighed. “No, I’m not. She’s used to me.” He stroked the horse’s side absently. “Aren’t you, old girl? Plus, I’m sure you want Father to hurry up as much as I do.”

“I daresay he’ll be here any minute,” said Tora calmly, giving her own mare’s mane an affectionate stroke. She glanced at the robed representative of the Enchanters’ Guild who formed part of the group. “Is he bringing more enchanters with him? I thought he’d want magical protection in addition to guards, given the nature of the fugitives.”

“I don’t think any more enchanters are coming with us,” Amell said distractedly, still craning his neck to check the castle’s entrance. “But the guild and the guards have combined teams on a roster. They’ve been patrolling the main highway since yesterday, making sure it remains safe and clear for traffic. I think they’re putting protective enchantments on it and everything. We’ll be staying on that route for sure.”

He tapped two fingers against his thigh in a frantic rhythm. “Two hours’ ride,” he said abruptly. “Only two hours from here to the prison. I can hardly believe Father didn’t go yesterday, and even this morning he’s dallying.”

“Somehow I doubt His Majesty isdallying, Prince Amell,” added Furn, a laugh in his voice. “Also, you should brace yourself. While it might take you and me two hours of hard riding to get there, it will probably take this cavalcade twice that.”

He nodded toward the assembled group of guards, investigators, and various others, including the enchanter from the guild.

“Your father sent some of his most trusted representatives yesterday, and he remained in Fernford because he was needed to make decisions regarding the large scale troop movements the crisis will require. Plus I imagine he sent letters to each of the other monarchs in Solstice, alerting them and seeking their assistance. Sometimes a king needs to look at the bigger picture.”

“Yes, yes, I know all that, of course,” said Amell impatiently. He sent his friend a wry smile. “I’m just eager to be off.”

Furn’s own smile showed no surprise.

“I must say, Furn,” Amell commented, “you seem to have a good grasp of it all. Maybe you should consider working toward a role as a senior advisor. It wouldn’t be the first time Father has drawn an advisor from the more genteel of the guards.”

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