"Isabell," Ashlynn said, holding onto the older womanâs slender, almost bony hands and looking deeply into her steely-gray eyes. "I need to know something. I donât know if you know or not, but if you know, please tell me the truth. Someone told Owain about my mark, but they didnât tell him until after the ceremony was over, so it must have been some time during the feast or the ball."
Ashlynnâs heart hammered in her chest, drowning out the familiar, steady echo of Nyrielleâs faint heartbeat during the day as she faced the question that had haunted her for more than half a year. Her palms were damp with sweat, and her face felt flushed from more than just the heat of the fire in the hearth as she looked deep into Isabellâs eyes, hoping her friend would have the answer she so desperately needed.
"With my mother in hiding, I donât know if you would have heard anything about who told Owain and how things happened that night," Ashlynn said, swallowing heavily and speaking around a knot in her throat that felt as large as a henâs egg. "But I, I have to know. Was it Mother who told him?"
"Does she... does she blame me for all the times that she suffered?" Ashlynn asked as tears began to spill from her limpid emerald eyes. "I, I donât know if itâs because of the Church or something else, but if she, if she finally decided that she had to, had to do something about me. If she thought that I was a curse that she had to protect Owainâs family from..."
There werenât many reasons that Ashlynn could come up with for her mother to have betrayed her, but the combination of her motherâs suffering and her faith was something that Ashlynn couldnât deny.
Ashlynn never once thought that it could have been her father. After all, of her two parents, her father had always been the one to weigh the risks and benefits of everything he did and he charted the best path forward for the Blackwell family and the whole of Blackwell County. His willingness to marry his eldest daughter to Owain Lothian despite the risks was a testament to how much he was willing to risk and sacrifice if it could obtain a better future for their family.
There were no benefits to be had from telling Owain Lothian about her mark, unless he wanted to use the information that Owain was married to a witch to somehow blackmail or control the young lord when he became the next marquis. But even then, telling him on the night of the wedding, before Owain had consummated their marriage or fathered an heir, would do him little good.
Which meant that, if one of her parents had betrayed her to Owain, it must have been her mother...
"I, I just need to know," Ashlynn said as the pain sheâd carried deep in her heart for so many months tore its way free, leaving a gaping, fresh wound in her soul that was even more raw and ragged than it had been on the night she was beaten until the edge of death.
"Oh, Ashlynn," Isabell said, dropping Ashlynnâs hands to wrap the suddenly fragile-seeming younger woman into a tight embrace. "It wasnât her," she whispered in a soft, soothing voice. "Whatever your mother suffered, keeping your secret all those years and everything else that happened, I donât think she would ever want to see you hurt. She didnât do this to you," Isabell said softly.
"Your mother loves you and I donât think she could ever betray you," Isabell said, hoping that her words could ease at least a portion of the soul-rending ache she felt from her young friend.
The moment Isabell said âit wasnât her,â a surge of relief swept over Ashlynnâs wounded spirit, washing away months of fears, doubts, and uncertainties about the woman who had raised her without the help of servants, just to keep her miracle baby safe for all those years.
"She, she still loves me then," Ashlynn whispered softly as tears fell from her eyes, dripping soundlessly onto the dark fabric of Isabellâs tunic as the older woman held her close. "Thank you," Ashlynn whispered as silent sobs shook her body.
No matter how much her mother had turned to the Church for comfort or relief from her own suffering, she hadnât let it twist her into a woman who would betray her own daughter. That thought alone was enough to light a candle in the darkness that filled Ashlynnâs heart, giving her hope that one day soon, they could see each other again.
If her pious mother could accept her daughter enough to conceal her mark of the witch even now, then perhaps she could accept more than just her daughterâs witchcraft. Perhaps, perhaps she could accept the woman who had captured her daughterâs heart, and she could celebrate the happiness that Ashlynn had found in what was supposed to have been a world of cruelty and certain death.
For a moment, Ashlynn let herself bask in that feeling of relief, finally putting down half of the worries that had plagued her ever since that dreadful night. She sank into the fantasy of holding her mother the way she was holding Isabell now before introducing her to Nyrielle as the love of her life. And maybe, just maybe, now that Ashlynn had gained a level of mastery of her powers as a witch, she could help her motherâs body heal from everything it had suffered over the years, repaying all of the kindness and love her mother had showered her daughter with despite the mark she bore.
For a moment, Ashlynn clung to the warmth cast by the feeble, flickering flame of knowledge that her mother hadnât been the one to betray her.
But her mind was far too sharp to let her wallow in that feeling or relief for long. After all, Isabell had said âit wasnât her,â not âI donât think it was her,â which meant that her friend knew who had betrayed her deepest secret to Owain Lothian.
"W-who?" Ashlynn asked with a slight tremble in her voice. "You know, donât you? You know who really told Owain that night... So, who? Who was it?"