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The next week passed too quickly, Abarōz feeling dazed as if she’d drunk too much wine. She’d never known such happiness—resting, feasting, and spending time with her father. She and Shāhpuhr healed steadily thanks to his soothing balm. She never wanted these days to end, but time, so often ruthless, had other plans in store.
As did Abarōz.
She knew she couldn’t postpone any longer, so she walked to the edge of the clearing where her mother was bound to a tree.
“Adrina.”
Abarōz tried to keep the tremble out of her voice. Her mother sat, cross-legged, at the base of a wide trunk, a hood flung over her face. Abarōz stooped to remove it.
“Ah, Daughter.”
Her mother blinked up as if Abarōz were a stranger.
“I have returned from Dardan.”
“So I see.”
“Are they treating you well?”
Now color splotched Adrina’s face.
“Yes. If you call being tied up ‘well.’”
Abarōz let out a breath.
“You knew the bargain: myself in exchange for you.”
“Yet here you stand.”
“Yes. I guess there’s no harm in freeing you, since the S̆āh would be more than happy to blame you for my escape.” She circled the tree, undoing thick knots. “Better?” she asked, walking round to face Adrina.
“I suppose,” her mother spat as she rubbed both wrists. Her dark eyes were filled with venom. “Some daughter you turned out to be! A thorough disgrace to our family! I’d rather kill you myself than accept such a stain.”
Abarōz felt a numbness starting at her feet. Could she ever satisfy her mother? Make her see that her selfishness had torn apart their family?
“Adrina,” Abarōz said quietly. “You never cared for me: not when I was dutiful; and now, when I am not. Whatever guise I take is of no importance to you.”
“Clever,” hissed her mother. “You were always too quick for your own good. You’ve turned your father against me—ensured I cannot go home!”
“And what a home,” Abarōz told her. “Where the man you worship burns your daughter alive. Not to mention killing your husband.”
“I will not hear it!” her mother shrieked, rising to stumble on unused legs. “Blasphemy! Sedition! Get away from me, whore!”
The numbness had spread upward; gripped Abarōz’s head in its hands. She could only stand and watch as her mother walked away.
No matter, she told herself, shaking her limbs to restore feeling. She’d never been close to Adrina, never less so than now. Of course, she was her mother, the only one she had. She must, as the new god preached, learn to turn the other cheek.
By the time she went back to Shāhpuhr, she thought she had recovered. But he saw it all on her face, offering a gentle hug and a soft kiss on the cheek.
“Each of us has one outstanding parent,” he murmured into her hair. “I suppose, in this world, that’s all that we can ask for.”
Abarōz nodded, letting her tears flow free. He was right, as always: She must learn to be grateful for the blessings she’d been granted.
