misUnderstood by Bridget E. Baker

Author:Bridget E. Baker [Baker, Bridget E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Purple Puppy Publishing

13

The Past: 2001

“Balthasar says your mother wants you to report to her courtyard for training this morning.” Lucas hands me a granola bar and a bottle of water.

“Really?” I take a bite. “That’s great news.”

“I thought you’d be pleased.” Lucas leans against the doorframe. “You’ve been a little mopey with Balthasar.”

“I haven’t.” I chew and swallow and take another bite, even bigger than the last. “But I miss melodics.”

“It’s obvious.” Lucas beams at me. “I told Douglas to follow you over.”

“Oh good.” I put my hand over my heart in mock relief. “I was really worried I might be attacked between here and Mother’s courtyard.”

“It’s a hundred yards, I know. But there are rules for a reason.”

“You’re doing your job, which I appreciate.” I scarf down the last third of the granola bar and hand him the wrapper. Then I chug the water bottle and toss it to Lucas as well.

“You’re so stunning when you eat, like a ballerina working on a stage made of food. Have I ever told you that?” Lucas lifts one eyebrow.

“I wish I had that bottle back.” I slide my arm sheath into place and tighten it around my forearm.

“Oh?”

“So I could throw it at your head.” I slide my scabbard over my shoulder. “I’m not sure I can justify throwing either my sword or this dagger at you for being a brat. But a water bottle? Absolutely.”

I jog around the back side of my courtyard and through the gate where Douglas is waiting with a smile on his face.

“Good morning?” he asks.

I bob my head. “I think it is, yes.”

“It’s about time.” Douglas knows the drill. When we reach the gate to Mother’s, he halts and assumes a position outside.

I bounce on through, my scabbard bumping against my back. And I pull up short. My jaw drops, and I blink to make sure I’m not seeing things. But no, it’s definitely Mother, inside the circle of Frederick’s embrace, her head leaned against his shoulder, tears on her cheeks.

I stumble backward, my boot hitting the gate. It clicks into place and Mother leaps away from Frederick like he burned her. She meets my eye and her lips part. She inhales quickly and Frederick bows and exits through the door that opens into the hallway.

She’s fully dressed in training gear. Maybe it was nothing. But why does she look so guilty? And since when has Mother hugged anyone, including me? The closest I ever get is an awkward shoulder squeeze. I’ve never seen her hug Dad, that’s for sure.

I shake my head. It’s not my business. Or, at least, there’s nothing I can do about it.

“Lucas said. . .”

Mother brushes off her spotless white pants. “Of course. I thought you might like to do a little sparring.”

“Right,” I say. “No, I mean, yes, I do.”

She looks pointedly at my sword. “I was thinking hand-to-hand.”

I whip the sword off and set it by the gate. “Sounds great.”

And if I hit her a little harder than normal, well, I doubt she notices.

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