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SHE’D THOUGHT IT BEFORE, and she’d likely think it again, but today would be the new hardest day of Leah’s life.
Aspen and Ash were back at Kaylah and Eric’s place, watched by Robyn. She had kids of her own, so Leah didn’t see a need for tons of formal training on how to take care of them.
Leah and Marcus walked hand in hand to the prison Beata served her life sentence in. Leah was already sweating and nauseous. She was seriously doubting whether she’d keep down her breakfast.
Marcus squeezed her hand. He hadn’t seen Leah’s mom since he and Leah had run away together to his brother’s wedding in this realm over three years ago. He’d been on decent terms with Beata in the human world, but once he’d discovered who she really was, he’d never wanted to see her again.
Leah had never pushed it. She’d kept those parts of her life separated, compartmentalized. She couldn’t blame Marcus, or any Boman, given her mom’s history in the war, and her plans to further victimize Bomen.
Leah squeezed his hand back. He was all sorts of tense, but his presence there today was part support, part compromise. And she didn’t think she could do it without him.
The guards welcomed them into the massive stone building. “Mrs. and Mr. Elonto.” One nodded. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Leah said. The palace announcement about their private wedding and Boman twins had just gone out, and word traveled fast, at least when it was the juicy kind.
The couple stayed in a waiting room while the guards fetched Beata for the meeting. Marcus paced the room while Leah sat, bouncing her knee and biting her fingernails.
A guard opened the door. “She’s ready in room one.”
Leah filled her lungs to capacity. I can do this...
Hands gripping each other, Leah and Marcus entered room one together. Beata smiled wide at Leah, but quickly dropped her expression at the sight of Marcus. She looked nervous. But she recovered, opening her arms to Leah.
Only then did Leah let go of Marcus’s hand as she hugged her mom.
“I’ve been so worried,” Beata breathed, holding Leah tight. “You said you’d be gone, but I didn’t think it would be this long!” She stepped back, tucking Leah’s hair behind her ears. “You’re okay?”
Leah gave her a forced smile. “I’m great. Let’s sit down.”
Marcus had already sat at the round table in the small room. There would be no hugs between him and Beata, and everyone in the room was well aware of that.
“Marcus,” Beata acknowledged as she took a seat, her wrists bound so her Ivy vines could cause no harm.
“Beata,” he replied a little sharply.
Beata turned her focus back to Leah, not bothering to inquire why Marcus had joined her on this visit. “How was the human world? You didn’t even tell me what university you got into, or what you’re studying.”
Leah blew out a breath. “That wasn’t ... completely true. I was in the human world for most of the time, but not in school. I needed a break from the realm.”
“That bad?” Beata frowned.
“I mean, not everything was bad... It’s a long story. But I’m in a good place, Mom.” She held up her hand, showing her ring. “Marcus and I got married.”
Beata took a moment to react. She couldn’t be that surprised, not when Leah had outright told her to prepare for this eventuality when they’d last seen each other nearly a year ago. But Beata didn’t deign to offer her congratulations. She turned to Marcus, giving him a little nod. “You were good for her in high school. She stopped stealing for you.”
Marcus’s jaw tensed. “Yes, I was good for her. I am good for her, and I will continue to be good for her.” His tone dangerously rode the line of civility.
Leah rested a hand on his thigh under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. Leah had been forced to sacrifice her pride to keep things civil with Catrina and Stephan upon their return. This time it was Marcus’s turn to keep the peace. He deserved to tell Beata off however he wished, but that wasn’t what they’d agreed upon for this particular visit.
“What was the wedding like?” Beata asked. “I assumed you would let me know before it happened...”
Leah stared at her wedding ring. She was a tiny bit mortified by her wedding pictures, with her ginormously pregnant, wearing a cheap dress in some random church in the human world. “It was beautiful and private. We did it in the human world while we were away. I’m sorry I didn’t give you a heads-up. I ... didn’t think to bring pictures on this visit.”
“Well, I’d love to see next time. Are you back to living in-realm now? You’ll visit more regularly?”
Choking down the lump in her throat, Leah took a moment to respond. She didn’t have that answer yet. Depending on how this visit went, she might make time for visits with her mom, or she may never see her again for the rest of her life. And that terrified her. “We’ll have to see. I’m really busy right now. I have a job.”
Beata smiled. “That’s great! What are you doing?”
“And we’re building a house.”
“That’s nice. What part of the kingdom? I assume you’re staying in the kingdom?”
Leah’s courage wavered, her hand shaky as she pulled a photo from her pocket, resting it in her lap. “Yeah. Staying in the kingdom. And honestly, a lot of time will be taken up with family. With ... our kids.”
Beata was rightfully confused. “Your what?”
Slipping the picture of Aspen and Ash onto the table, Leah tried to breathe regularly. “Marcus and I had twins.”
Her mouth wide open, Beata slid her hand across the table, taking the photo. “You can’t be serious.” She stared at the picture of the two of them. “But they look like you.” Her gaze shifted up in a subtle glare at Marcus, with a hint of ‘you knocked up my daughter?!’ in the mix. “That’s why you were gone for so long?” She returned her focus to Leah.
“Yes.”
Beata shook her head, studying the picture again. “I can’t believe...” And the wheels churned, then it clicked. “Well, they’re obviously not Marcus’s. Sweetheart, I know the ins and outs of stunts, and they don’t carry in multiples.”
A low, rumbling exhale came from Marcus, a warning, or a sign that he and his balled fists were barely keeping back his absolute hatred for Beata.
Leah’s heart broke. Not at Marcus’s anger, but at her mother’s continual use of the term ‘stunt.’ That was like ‘weed’ or ‘leech’—terms that hadn’t been commonplace since the old war, not with anyone civilized or tolerant.
“I’d like the picture, please,” Marcus said, plenty of edge to his voice. He extended a hand. “The picture of my children.”
Beata handed it to him.
“Mom, they are Bomen. They are Marcus’s. There are actually a couple of other sets of Ivy Boman twins on record since I was born.”
Beata furrowed her brow. “Oh...” It still didn’t seem like she believed it, but that was the least of Leah’s worries. “I guess they’re old enough to have been confirmed as ... what you say they are...”
“They’re Bomen, Mom. Not stunts. Please stop calling them that. My children are not stunts. Neither is Marcus, or anyone else born without powers.”
“Sorry,” Beata muttered. “I’ll try to do better.” She studied Leah. “They’re healthy? You’re healthy? Were you okay?”
Leah nodded. “We’re all fine. They’re angels.”
Beata smiled softly. “If they’re yours, then I’m sure they’re perfect. I’d love to meet them on your next visit.”
Marcus’s nostrils flared, and Leah’s heart dropped into her gut.
“That’s not going to happen,” Leah said with as much confidence as she could muster. “I won’t be bringing them.”
Beata frowned. “I wouldn’t say— I wouldn’t do— I just want to meet them. I’d love them, because they’re a piece of you.”
Before they’d left the human world, Leah and Marcus had had a real heart-to-heart. She’d desperately wanted her mom to meet her kids, and Marcus had been adamantly opposed to it. Instead of fighting it out, they’d addressed it calmly, with an open mind.
The thing was, it didn’t matter how much Beata repented of her actions and prejudices—she had committed crimes, she had planned heinous things. Bomen would never forget that.
And it didn’t matter that Leah had never cared one way or the other that Marcus was a Boman, born without powers. But just because she wasn’t a bigot didn’t mean she’d understood his struggle. She had plenty of prejudices stacked against her personally, but she’d never been part of that marginalized group, and she wasn’t necessarily the best advocate. She had to default to Marcus for that, trusting he knew best when it came to that aspect.
Leah wrung her hands in her lap. “No, Mom. You won’t get to see them until they’re old enough to understand who you are and what you’ve done. And then they can decide for themselves if they ever want you to be part of their lives.”
Beata’s eyes filled with tears. “I can be better. I promise. I can be better.”
Leah still hoped with all her heart that her mom could be better, do better. But she and Marcus had agreed upon this ahead of time, and their decision was as immovable as the Outer Rim surrounding this realm.
They would not budge.
Yes, Beata still had to change, and she had, to some degree, already. She was civil with Marcus, making a tiny bit of effort in this meeting, but she still was cold toward him, and she still called him a stunt. But even if she had changed her tune without prompting, if she had turned a complete one-eighty and was now a saint, they wouldn’t have budged on this.
Because children were not tools. Aspen and Ash were innocent and perfect, not born for the purpose of changing the minds of bigots. It wasn’t Leah’s responsibility to change her mother’s mind, and it certainly wasn’t her children’s. Beata’s story was tragic and pitiable, and her parentage had done her no favors morally. But the fact remained that she was a grown adult, and it was no one’s job to fix her but her own.
Leah’s children would never be tools. Not the way she’d been when her mother had conceived her as a manipulation against Leah’s dad. She was breaking that cycle. She may look like a carbon copy of her mother, and they may have a lot in common, but Leah was not the same as Beata.
Aspen and Ash were not there to manipulate or educate, and even as tears moistened Leah’s own eyes at witnessing her mother’s devastation, that fire burned within her.
Leah could only imagine the hurt and horror and distrust it would earn her if her children eventually learned that she’d taken them to see their grandmother—a war criminal—when they were too young to consent.
To the entire realm, Beata was a villain. To Leah, the lines still blurred on a personal level. No one else had been protected by her the way Leah had been, even if she’d been somewhat negligent. No one else had loved Leah when she was younger. Beata would always be her mother, but she was selfish and toxic.
Leah’s lip quivered. “No, Mom. That decision’s final.”
Beata continued to cry, her frown deepening. “Could I at least keep the picture? I’d love one with the three of... Well, with your family...”
Leah shook her head. She didn’t imagine that would be much better for her kids. Leah’s children were descendants of slaves, and she couldn’t give her children’s photo to someone who still believed slavery wasn’t all that bad. Even if Beata considered this particular set of slave descendants somehow alright just because they were half-breeds of her daughter’s.
Beata pursed her lips, staring at the table between them.
The silence was deafening, and it was time.
Leah rested her hand on Marcus’s thigh again. “I need to talk to her alone, okay?”
He rubbed her hand. “Sure. I’ll be right outside.”