Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [118]
“Do you know who I am?” her mother repeated.
“Your name is Iaris,” Elandra said coldly. “You gave me birth.”
“I am your mother.”
Elandra swallowed. As a child she had dreamed of her mother, longed for her mother. Now all she felt was rage and such pent-up resentment she thought she might explode. Again, using all that the Penestricans had taught her, she struggled to control herself.
“Yes,” she said finally, “you are my mother.”
Iaris waited a moment. “Is that all you have to say?”
“What should I add?”
“A word of greeting. A smile. Perhaps a remark expressing your feelings at our reunion.”
“Is that what this is?” Elandra asked. “A reunion? The word implies that there was a previous relationship, does it not? I don’t recall one.”
Iaris’s nostrils flared. Even in middle age, she was beautiful. Her cheekbones had a sharp, sculpted quality that would last all her life. Her eyes were tilted ever so slightly at the corners, like Elandra’s. Their color was exotic, compelling. Her thick lashes swept down and up as her gaze locked again on Elandra.
“So it is to be like that,” she said.
“Yes,” Elandra said flatly. “It is to be like that.”
Iaris frowned. “I tried to speak to you earlier. You refused me. Now we must talk.”
“It can wait until morning.”
“No, this privacy is better.”
“I need my rest,” Elandra said.
“You owe me this audience,” Iaris told her.
Elandra shot her an angry look and raised her brows. She said nothing, but Iaris refused to be stared down.
“I am Lady Pier,” she said harshly. “You owe me audience.”
Surprised, Elandra studied her for a moment; then she gestured at the nearby chairs.
They sat in the gloom, facing each other like civilized ladies, but there was something unreal about the hour of night, the quiet in the room, the utter privacy. Elandra wondered if her guards at the door had gone to sleep, to allow Iaris her surreptitious entry. Could anyone come and go as they pleased in this palace? It did not used to be so.
She held her knife openly in her lap, and Iaris pretended not to notice it.
Silence stretched between them. Elandra was the one who broke it.
“You have my leave to speak,” she said.
Iaris glared at her, obviously resenting Elandra’s superior position, but she wasted no more time. Leaning forward with her hands clamped on the arms of her chair, she said, “What manner of man have you brought to Gialta? What is he?”
“He is the future of the empire,” Elandra replied coolly. For a moment it was almost amusing. Being questioned separately by her parents about the man she had chosen. Did they expect her to grieve publicly for Kostimon? Did they expect her to drape herself in the veil of widowhood and hide for a year of official mourning?
She would not do it. Kostimon had been her husband in name only. Now she belonged body and soul to Caelan. She would make no pretense of it. She would not act the hypocrite.
“The future of the empire,” Iaris repeated with a disdainful smile. “A very grand endorsement, but a vague one at best.”
Elandra was tired. This had been a long day of shocks and worry. Her emotions had been pulled in all directions since her arrival, and she was very worried about Caelan’s disappearance. She had no patience for games and verbal sparring. She wanted to end this interview quickly.
“Caelan is a king,” she said, “from a land you do not know. A land where Choven—”
“Those creatures!” Iaris said scornfully.
Elandra met her eyes, understanding that Iaris used her pride to shield her ignorance. “Caelan is both man and Choven, his lineage both of this world and of the spirit. His destiny is that he will break the world. There is more, but I will not tell you all.”
“These words are fanciful indeed,” Iaris said. “Who could believe such stories?”
“You asked a question. I have answered it.”
Iaris frowned. “Will you now state the truth?”
Elandra said nothing.
Iaris’s frown deepened. “This is ridiculous. Pier says he is nothing but a gladiator, a former slave who was bought at auction by Prince Tirhin.”
“Lord Pier should be grateful for what Caelan