It's killing me!


Let me find the right words, Aislin thought as she made her way to the library. Sometimes, if Emara was approached alone and with deference, she didn’t fuss as much.

She’d come to understand her own responsibility for the chaos that occurred when she’d introduced Tristan to everyone after the invasion. Of course her mother had been shocked to see an elf standing in their dining hall holding her daughter’s hand. Aislin was just as stunned to see him looming over her in Oakenbourne. She should’ve taken him to her mother for a private introduction. Tristan’s humiliation might not have escalated to the breaking point had her mother been allowed to meet him first.

It was a mistake Aislin would not repeat.

She stood outside the oak and glass library door for a moment, her hand lightly touching the golden latch. She was grateful Jariath had not carried his destructive rage to this part of the manor house. The library had been her father’s wedding gift to her mother. Its loss would’ve shattered Emara.

The room had been crafted with love and a fine eye for detail. Aislin could see now that it was intended to be a haven of peace for her fragile mother. Dark oak bookshelves rose from floor to wood-paneled ceiling, each one filled to capacity. Arianrhod’s historic tomes sat side by side with the books Emara had brought from Wyndham. A corner fireplace of hewn stone added a cozy ambiance to the room.

She was not surprised to see Colven sitting with his back to the door, his snow white hair bobbing over the top of the blue velvet wingback chair. He and Emara were laughing. Aislin nearly went to the floor when her mother leaned forward with a flirtatious smile and kissed the old elf on the cheek.

She hated to interrupt them, but she couldn’t hide the entire Samuelson family upstairs all day. She opened the door, wincing as it creaked, and stuck her head in. “Mother?”

Emara sat up straight. “Yes, Aislin?”

The words stuck in Aislin’s throat. “I...I hate to bother you, but I need to talk to you about something.”

“Is this something Colven can hear?” Emara’s smile felt like a knife in her gut.

“I can’t answer that, but I think... I think you’ll most likely want to hear this privately.” Aislin gave Colven a slight bow. “I’m sorry, Colven.”

The elder elf rose and gave her mother a kiss on the cheek. “Think nothing of it. I have some things to discuss with Tristan anyway. It’s been a lovely day, Emara. Would it be possible to meet after supper?”

Emara clutched his hand and smiled. “Of course. I’ll meet you here.”

“Excellent.” Colven winked at Aislin and took his leave.

Aislin stood behind the chair recently vacated by Colven and tried to calm her racing heart. This was one of the hardest thing she’d ever had to do.

Emara rose. “Has something happened to that darling baby in my room?”

“No. The baby is fine.” Aislin took a shaky breath. “You’re going to be shocked when I tell you who that baby belongs to.”