Page 149 of A Tale of Ice and Ash
For a moment, Cole allowed himself to wonder what life would have been like if Olwen hadn’t died, if they’d had a chance to be a proper family. He couldn’t picture it. He couldn’t picture his mother being content with a man who did not love her, and he certainly couldn’t imagine Eirwen becoming more like a sister. No, that kind of happy family had never been within his reach.
But maybe one day, with Eirwen, that kind of happiness could be his.
“And what about… what about the real Bianca?”Do you regret the start of this all? Would you change the path your life took, if you could?
His mother hesitated, and then slowly shook her head. “It brought me you.”
A lump formed in Cole’s throat. He did not trouble to ask about his own father. He already knew what the answer would be.
He turned sharply towards the door.
“Wait–” A hand shot out through the bars, a hand he did not recognise, olive-skinned, slender-fingered. A ring sat in the centre of its palm. “She never took it,” said a voice he barely knew. Half his mother’s. Half another’s. “She said I was welcome to keep whatever face I wanted; I would never be going anywhere again. But I don’t want it. Not anymore. I think it’s time to let the facade fall.”
Cole swallowed, hardly daring to move. “Your name,” he said, his voice no louder than a whisper, “your real one. What is it?”
“Demetria,” she said softly, as if the sound of it shocked her. “I haven’t spoken it in twenty years.”
“It’s pretty.” He turned around. In his mother’s dress was another person, taller and skinnier, with a bolt of dark, greying hair. Her face was thin and slightly worn. Pitch-black eyes shadowed sharp cheekbones. She looked warmer than Bianca, and it was not hard to imagine this half-stranger rocking him to sleep at night.
For the first time, Cole looked into his mother’s face.
“How do I look?” she asked.
He sighed. “Like me,” he said. “You look like me.”
∞∞∞
Eirwen was waiting for him in the courtyard, bundled up against the cold, the crown shining against her dark hair. Her breath iced in the air as she rushed to his side. He didn’t know she’d been waiting for him, but the awkward coil of emotions tangled inside him eased just a little in her presence.
“How was it?” she asked.
“Not sure I can put it into words.”
She threaded her fingers into his and squeezed. “Will you be all right?”
“It’s… it will take a while. But I’m getting there.”
Eirwen leaned against him, her warmth spreading through his arm. “I’m glad she’s alive.”
“You can’t mean that.”
“For you, I’m glad she’s alive.”
“You’re too good, Snow.”
They walked on together through the frozen gardens, their feet shuffling through the padded snow. Cole had an urge to pull her onto the lawns and throw her down in the powdery piles and kiss her until they were giddy, but it had been a while since they’d had time to be alone together, and he was conscious of all the eyes around them now.
Suddenly, he decided he didn’t care. He slid his arm around her waist and heaved her against him, throwing them back into the mounds and rolling on top of her. Eirwen squeaked, giggling, and threw her arms around his neck. Her smile was infectious, and he tugged on it with his lips.
“What was that for?” She laughed.
He brushed loose snowflakes from her brow. “Because I love you and despite now living under the same roof, I’ve missed you these last few days.”
“You haven’t… you haven’t been to my room.”
Cole paused. “I must have passed your door a dozen times, thinking about knocking. I wasn’t sure you wanted me to.”
“Well,” said Snow stiffly, “I did.”
