Page 92 of Bonds of Pain
I straighten my shoulders. “I’m fine. He didn’t do anything.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I meet his gaze, surprised by the genuine concern I see there. “I’ll be better once I’m away from him. The coalition meeting will be a good distraction.”
Poe nods, despite looking like he wants to say more. I start walking again before he gets tempted enough to do just that. If he asks anymore questions, I might be tempted to provide answers.
My history with the Inquisitor is a secret I have to keep, at least until I know sharing it will do less harm than good.
When I enter the same meeting room as the last time, the circle of Omegas turns toward me with practiced smiles, but something feels immediately off. There’s a tension in the air, an anticipatory silence that makes my skin prickle.
“Lady Maya,” Duchess Elara calls with exaggerated deference. “We have a special guest today who was most insistent on attending.”
A figure in the center of the group shifts in their chair, and I freeze as a familiar voice cuts through the air.
“Maya, darling. How lovely to see you!”
My mother turns to face me, her perfectly styled hair framing a face that shows no hint of the years we’ve spent apart. Charlotte Tantamount-Ovation looks completely at ease among the aristocracy she’s spent her life trying to infiltrate.
“Mother.” The word feels foreign on my tongue. I haven’t spoken it aloud in years.
The room falls silent as everyone watches our reunion with barely disguised curiosity. I’m aware of every eye tracking my movements as I approach the circle.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Charlotte smiles, the expression not quite reaching her eyes. “When I heard my only daughter had secured a royal mating contract, how could I stay away? Though I must say, I’m disappointed you didn’t inform me yourself.”
“I’ve been rather busy,” I reply, the understatement of the century.
“So I’ve heard.” Her gaze flicks to the silver pendant at my throat, then to the fading bruises on my wrists. “It seems you’ve been through quite an adjustment period.”
The other Omegas watch our exchange like it’s a theatrical performance. I can almost see them mentally taking notes to share later.
“The coalition has graciously allowed me to attend today,” Charlotte continues. “I have so many questions about your new position. After all, I invested so much in your upbringing.”
I hear the unspoken demand in her words. She wants recognition, compensation for the years she spent grooming me for this exact outcome. The irony that I’m now in the position she always wanted for me, yet through none of her machinations, isn’t lost on me.
“How thoughtful of them,” I say, taking a seat across from her rather than beside her. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to catch up later.”
Charlotte’s smile tightens. She’s always hated being dismissed, especially in public.
“Of course, darling. I wouldn’t want to monopolize the future queen’s attention.”
The title hangs in the air between us. I wonder if she knows how precarious my position truly is, or if she’s already planning how to capitalize on my newfound status.
As the meeting begins, I realize my mother’s presence has added yet another complication to my already tangled web of dangers and alliances. She was never just my mother—she was my first lesson in manipulation.
And now she’s here, ready to collect on her investment.
“So, my dear,” Charlotte says, leaning forward with a predatory smile, “tell us about the size of the royal apartments. Are they as grand as rumored? I’ve heard the baths are solid gold. I’m dying to see it.”
I close my eyes briefly, mortified. Trust my mother to ask about material possessions first.
“The royal apartments are private, Mother,” I reply, keeping my voice level. “As is appropriate for any residence.”
Duchess Elara’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows rise slightly at my mother’s faux pas. The other women exchange glances, clearly enjoying the spectacle of the future queen’s mother demonstrating her ignorance of high society’s unwritten rules.
“And the servants,” Charlotte continues, oblivious to the social minefield she’s navigating. “How many attend to you personally? I imagine at least a dozen for the future queen.”
