River couldn’t remember a time when her mother hadn’t hated her. The sting of her mother’s disapproval was as normal as the rising sun.
“It… wasn’t a good feeling,” River admitted.
A heaviness settled upon her chest, and she dug her nails into her palms. Talking about Tertia always made her feel like this.
It didn’t matter that River was a Mature fae in her twenties. Tertia Waterborn—River hated calling her “Mother,” since the Representative clearly despised the role—always made her feel small. Worthless, even.
Several minutes passed in silence. That heaviness presseddown, down, down on River’s chest until it was crushing her lungs. Her fingers tightened, her nails dug into her palms, and her practiced breaths were far too short.
Eliza hummed quietly. “Keep going, River,” she encouraged. “What happened after that?”
Oh, gods. River had known she would have to talk about this with her therapist, but she couldn’t stop herself from shivering. It was as if her magic were on a stove, and someone had turned up the heat. Once again, it bubbled in her veins, approaching boiling. She drew her arms around herself, mentally repeating Eliza’s mantra until her powers simmered once more.
“Tertia was working, as usual.” Reminding herself to keep breathing, River allowed memories of this morning to pull her in. “Tertia isalwaysworking.”
It had been that way for as long as River could remember. Ever since her father, Cyrus Waterborn, got sick, her mother immersed herself in her work. The only time she truly surfaced was during her husband’s increasingly rare moments of clarity.
“That must be difficult,” Eliza remarked, her calm voice soothing River’s magic further.
River waved a hand in the air dismissively. “Well, you know. That’s how it’s always been.”
The therapist’s brows slanted together, and she shook her head. “That doesn’t make it okay.”
“No, but it is what it is.” And honestly, Tertia’s workaholic tendencies were the least of River’s problems.
Eliza clucked her tongue, a frown tugging on her lips. “That’s not true, but we’ll work on that another day.”
Great, another problem to add to River’s extensive list. As if she didn’t already have enough trauma to work through. Atthis rate, she would be seeing her therapist until the day one of them Faded.
“Okay.” River twisted her fingers together. The sooner she finished telling this story, the better. “When I walked into the dining room, Tertia stood and stared at me.”
“She didn’t speak?”
“Nope.” River popped thep, hunching in on herself. “Several minutes passed in complete and utter silence. Neither of us spoke, and the temperature just… dropped.”
Frost had gathered on the windowsills, and River’s breath had clouded in front of her face. Even now, a chill remained embedded in her bones.
Prior experience with her mother’s magic told her it would be there for several days.
Tertia was a water fae, but ice was her specialty. Had she been alive when the fae lived on the other side of the Indigo Ocean, on the Obsidian Coast, Tertia probably would’ve enjoyed encasing her enemies in ice for causing her the most minor inconvenience.
These days, there were laws in the Republic of Balance that prevented such things from happening. Tertia had to use more civilized methods to make her displeasure known—and she wasoftendispleased.
“What happened after that?” Eliza gently prodded.
River’s gaze dropped to her arm, visually tracing the black floral ink covering her right arm. She had several piercings—three in each pointed ear and one in her nose, lip, and belly button—but this was her first tattoo. She was particularly pleased with it, especially since Tertia abhorred it. The Representative wasn’t quiet about the fact that she believed tattoos defaced one’s body.
“Eventually, she said my name.” Goose bumps pepperedRiver’s arms. “I’ve heard her speak to vampires with more warmth than what she directed at me, and shehatesvampires.” Almost as much as she hated her daughter.
River flicked up her eyes, meeting her therapist’s gaze. “But you’d be proud of me.”
“Oh?”
“A year ago, I would’ve picked a fight, but I didn’t.”
Eliza smiled warmly, and some of the ice that had wormed its way into River’s heart thawed. “That’s wonderful progress. You’re right, I am proud of you.”
Sincerity laced the therapist’s words, and even with the pain of recounting this morning’s encounter, River’s lips twitched upwards. A smile started to form, but it fell when she remembered what happened next.