Page 53 of Adversary to the Villain

Unfortunately—or fortunately—he’d never know, because in that moment, he spotted a figure wandering into the thorny grove, wispy skirts trailing behind her as she angled her waiflike body to run.

A favorite pastime…for their mother.

“If you’ll excuse me, Captain,” Gideon murmured.

With long strides, he’d caught up to her in no time at all, unable as she was to get any farther into the thorny grove.

“Mother.” The word was so charged, it should have lit a spark, burning the grove to embers, but instead, it merely stopped her in her tracks.

She didn’t turn, but Gideon could see the rigid set of her shoulders, the pack slung haphazardly about her waist. The sturdy boots upon her feet, the cloak around her shoulders. It was the attire of someone set to make a break for it.

To leave.

“Go back to the manor, Gideon,” his mother said in a voice and tone far firmer, far unkinder than any he’d ever heard from the woman. “Please don’t make this more difficult.”

His heart was thudding so loudly, he swore she heard it. She turned slowly until he saw the coldness in her normally warm brown eyes, the hardened resolve in a face he’d known the longest in his life. She wouldn’t do this. He had to be wrong.

“You’re not leaving.” Gideon willed the statement to be true, refusing to ask it like a question, refusing to make any of this easier for her. “You can’t—by the gods, Mother, you can’tleave.”

The hardened resolve remained, but a sheen glossed over it. A sheen Nura blinked away. “You don’t understand.”

“I don’t understand what?” Gideon laughed incredulously, feeling anger surge. “You told her you’d stay, that you’d be there for her. I defended you! You cannot do this again. It’s not fair!”

He couldn’t say Evie’s name, didn’t need to. Their mother was aware of who would suffer most deeply in her absence, the one who’d feel the pain of it most sharply.

It made Gideon hate her, just for a moment, just enough to keep fighting. “I won’t let you.”

Nura shook her head, smiling sadly. “What will you do, drag me forcefully back there? Tie me up? Chain me down? Because that is what you’d have to do to keep me from this. That is what it would take for me to stay.”

This was cruelty—deeper, stronger than any of the foul wrongs of Benedict, a man who was evil without artifice. But their mother was making a choice…and Gideon could not stand it. “At least don’t be a coward. Give a measure of respect to your daughter and say goodbye to her. Face her.”

Nura grabbed her head—in an attempt to either keep his words out or her thoughts in, it was unclear which.

“I wanted to, I intended to. But there are some wrongs that cannot be undone. Just tell her—tell her I’m so sorry. Tell her I love her very much and I wish… Oh, how I wish I could do it all differently.”

“Funny,” Gideon spat sharply. “I think the only thing Evie ever wished for was a mother—who stayed.”

Nura flinched, clutching her stomach, eyes widening at someone behind him. “Evangelina,” she whispered brokenly.

Indeed, his younger sister had appeared like an apparition next to him, her face streaked with drying tears, her eyes red from the strain…or the anger.

“Then leave.” Evie flashed a crooked smile with a wave of a hand toward the forest. “Trystan, won’t you see my mother out?” As if she’d summoned him, Maverine was swiftly at her back. “Do you have need of a horse, or did you arrange your own transportation?” Evie asked politely—sweetly, even. It was…

Fuckingscary.

Nura’s hard resolve softened as she took a step forward, hands out, imploring. “I love you, my sweet girl. More than you know. There are things that you cannot understand. Not until you become a mother yourself.”

Evie gave their mother a piteous stare, lifting her chin and saying with the bearings of a queen, “I became a mother the day you left.” Evie took a step closer to Nura, then another, and another until there was hardly a foot between them. “I can tell you with utmost certainty: no matter how difficult my life has become, no matter the obstacles I have to navigate in my own mind, no matter my very uncertain future”—she smiled, her eyes going somewhere else—“I amcertainI would never leave her.”

“There’s another book,” Nura whispered, clutching at her arms, rubbing them to soothe herself.

“What?” Evie murmured. Gideon took a step closer to hear their mother better, because surely, he hadn’t heard her right the first time.

“The original book of Rennedawn was written in magical ink. Blue ink, to be exact.”

Evie gasped and stumbled back, jumping when she realized how close Maverine had moved toward her. “The ink Papa bought from Clare? The same kind?”

Nura nodded. “Indeed.”