In Her Shadow(3)

"Why are you so concerned about whether I eat or not?"

"Because I'm your mother."

"No, you're not."

"Near enough."

"But you're not."

Weboshi sighed. She leaned back in her chair, eyelids low with the weight of years. "When your mother – your real mother – died, and the abbey took you in, I was the one who nursed you back to life. You were nothing, just a bag of bones in a sack. There wasn't enough food to go around and you didn't have the strength to chew. My own little baby had died from camp fever not two days before, so I fed you from my own breasts. You were too old for that, but there was no other way. You may not accept me as your mother, but you'll always be my daughter. So yes, I will worry about your wellbeing. I might not be able to stop your marriage but. . ."

"You don't approve of my marriage?"

"You're being sold like a herd of cattle to ensure peace with our oppressors."

"So, 'no' then."

Weboshi pushed the tray across the table so it pressed against Britta's stomach. "Eat."

Britta pushed the tray back to the center. "Don't avoid the issue. If you're my mother, then be honest with me."

"You really want to know what I think, New Moon?"

"Yes."

Weboshi's chair screeched as she slid back from the table. She went to the door and cracked it to peek out. When she closed it again, she leaned against it, blocking it so no one could barge in or listen without her knowing. She didn't do the same with the secret passage because, Britta suspected, Weboshi was the only person in the city who understood the network of them crisscrossing the city. "The Abbess is making you a ransom, a bribe, a payoff. She collaborated with the Regnals to end the war, and she's collaborating with them now to marry you to one of theirs in the hopes it will bring about a lasting peace. It won't, New Moon, and the Abbess knows it. This deal is our doom. Once you're bound to the Regnal aristocracy in marriage, they'll have all the power in Ankshara. You'll be the last New Moon, the last Full Moon. The Abbess doesn't want to go down in history as the last. She's setting you up to fail by making you a Regnal whore."

"How dare you?" Britta said, but coolly as she dabbed the edges of her lips free of strawberry juice. "How absolutely dare you? My waxing was ordained by the Goddess, the Abbess, and all our sisters. Unanimous – that includes you. You say it's blasphemy for me to watch the sunset, but you use the word 'whore' as an insult. Tell me, Weboshi, before you became stewardess to this abbey and handmaid to the Twin Moons, how many men did you spread your legs for?"

Weboshi's gaze fell to the floor. It wasn't deference, not that Britta could tell, but something else, something furtive. "The difference is, I had a choice. You don't. I spread my legs because I wanted to. You will because the abbey demands it of you, because you were raised to. You never had a choice. When you showed up at our door, the Abbess made such a compelling argument your arrival was a sign, we all voted for you to be the New Moon."

"You're saying it wasn't a sign? You're saying you all made a mistake?"

"I'm saying I know you better than anyone in the world. You think you want this, but you don't. And if you do want to lead the abbey, to marry a man whose people laid your homeland to waste, a man whose people killed your real mo–"

Britta yanked the tray of fruit from the table and tossed it across the room. Weboshi flinched when it hit the wall beside her with a tooth rattling clang. "Get out," Britta said between clenched teeth.

Weboshi gave a curt bow of the head, her eyes never rising from ground. "As you wish, New Moon. May She hide you in Her shadow."

When she was gone, Britta sat on the edge of her bed and cried in the darkness.

***

Ankshara: ancient, decadent, dangerous; Lucius hated everything he'd heard about it. The rest of the world called it "The Wicked City," but they should have called it "Whore-heaven," or "Thieves' Home." But any place was better than being aboard ship one moment longer. It didn't matter if it was the finest beef or the freshest bread, everything at sea tasted like fish and salt. His cabin always stunk of galley rowers' sweat. He couldn't sleep at night because of the incessant pounding of waves against the ship. He had those complaints and more, not that he'd ever let anyone know about them. He hadn't said a word about his misery for the entire trip. Others might have assumed from his practiced lack of reactions, but no one could know for sure. That was the beauty of being a Disciple of the Sun Triumphant, people never really knew where they stood with one. It gave Lucius an advantage in dealing with others he wasn't afraid exploit.

Lucius collapsed the telescope in his hand and tucked it away. "How long?" he asked the ship's captain beside him.

"A few minutes, Dux Lucius."

"Good."

"But–"

Lucius kept his expression flat, unconcerned. A man whose emotions could be read was a man who could be dominated by others. "But?"

"It will take several hours to unload the ship, Dux Lucius. The city is dangerous after dark. We should anchor in the harbor until dawn."

Lucius pointed to a flag flying on the pier in the distance. Deep purple trimmed with yellow, it fluttered in the breeze. "The imperial flag. The Governor and his party are waiting for us."