Page 103 of Crown of Betrayal and Blood

Hands loose at his sides, Agnar shoots him a glance that says,harm a hair on her head, and I’ll kill you.

I give my friend’s hand a squeeze to convey I’m okay. Some of the tension eases from his body when he regards me.

After sending Agnar a stern glance that I hope communicates,Behave, I clear my throat. “Tell me about her…about my mother. What was she like?”

“She was remarkable. She loved life, and she loved you even more.” Eldor produces a sealed envelope from inside his tunic. Its edges are worn, as if it traveled through time itself to find me. “Your mother was distraught when you were taken. She later wrote this for you.”

I accept the envelope with trembling fingers, cradling the weight of generations in my palms. I turn the envelope over in my hands, its face blank and smudged with dirt.

Does this hold the answers to all of my questions?

The moment my skin brushes the surface, ink blooms across the envelope like a night flower blooming in moonlight.Ellamaterializes in beautiful script, as if by some invisible hand still holding the quill.

The name my biological mother gave me.

A gasp escapes me.

Eldor laughs at my reaction. “A safeguard against prying eyes. Blood magic that only responds when the proper person touches it. Your mother’s favorite form of protection.”

“Blood magic?” This is new.

“Indeed.” He leans against a bookshelf, his face a mix of nostalgia and amusement. “And there’s so much more for you to learn. But for now,” his gaze drifts toward the letter in my hands, “read what she wrote. It’s time.”

My fingers shake, but before I unfold the paper, Eldor’s eyes moisten. He looks past me, as if he can see straight through the stone walls to the lands that hold our history. “You were born Ella Leona Hendrix.”

“Marina Hendrix, mother of Ella Hendrix.” I roll the names across my tongue, letting them settle within me. Tears blur my vision as I stare once more at the painting. My mother seems to stare back at me, her expression a silent call to embrace who I am, whoweare. The longing to know her claws at me with sharpened talons.

“Hey.” Agnar places a gentle hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”

“Fine.” I brush the tears from my cheeks and steel my resolve.

The knowing look Agnar gives me tells me he doesn’t believe my lie for a second.

The seal of the envelope cracks, seeming to echo in the stillness of the room. Under my fingers, the paper is thick, its edges softened by time. I drink in the looping script trailing down the page like the dance of flames.

Dear Ella,

My darling daughter, if you are reading this, we have not been reunited in life as I’d hoped. But fate is a fickle thing, and she has other plans. For many years, I prayed to the gods for a child. When you were born, I knew there was something different about you. Something incredibly special. You are perfect in every way, born for a purpose higher than just being my daughter.

After you were taken, my heart shattered. I never stopped searching for you. I never gave up faith that you would one day return to me. And I never quit beseeching the gods for your happiness and safety, wherever you were.

I hope I’m right, and that someone did take you that awful day. And as much as I hate them, I hope whoever did loved you and treated you well. How I’ve ached to hold you in my arms and rock you to sleep just one more time. To hear your sweet laughter, to see your beautiful smile again. I can only hope that you have been loved and cared for.

No matter what you face in life, know that I am proud of you, dearest daughter. Trust yourself. Look deep within, and you will do great things.

I’m leaving you a gift to remember me by, a place to store your grief.

Even after death, I will love you always. May you live a long and meaningful life. And one day, when you are old and gray and enter the next world, we will be together again.

Mother

Agnar waits patiently, chin lowered and hands clasped behind his back.

I fold the letter up and tuck it away in my tunic. “How did she die?”

“Widow’s cap. A merchant sold her those instead of harmless morels mushrooms.” Bitterness tinges Eldor’s voice. “To this day, I don’t know if the merchant purposefully sold her those mushrooms, or if it was an honest mistake. I hunted for him for months but never found him. Makes me wonder how many other people met the same fate.”

I’d heard of such things. The two mushrooms look a lot alike, but while one is edible, the other is a deadly poison.

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