A Dove's Tale

Chapter 22

Thanks to the carriage, I arrived home earlier than usual. That wouldn't help me convince Mother everything was fine. She had always read me better than even Prince Chevalier, and constant fatigue and pain didn't change that. If anything, her illness just lulled me into a false sense of security until she had a good day and I found out she knew everything. Jack had been the only secret I could keep, and today, I was so tired, physically, mentally, and emotionally, that I was in real danger of slipping and letting her find out. I took a minute outside of our door for a few deep breaths to compose myself and to paste a smile on my face before I headed inside.

"Hello, Ivetta," she greeted me when I walked in, giving me a tired smile from her seat at the table. There was a gray tinge to her complexion, and though she was sitting, she looked like she might pass out at any moment.

"Hello, Mother," I said, going straight to her and giving her a hug. "You look tired. Why don't you lie down for a bit while I get dinner ready?"

I was already helping her to her feet, not waiting for her answer. She couldn't reply, anyway, not when her breathing became more labored just from the effort of taking the few steps to the bed, even while leaning heavily on me for support. But her hand caught mine as she lay down, and I sat beside her, knowing she wanted to talk as soon as she got her breath back, hoping she wouldn't say anything about my early arrival today, my late arrival yesterday, or my winter uniform...

"What's wrong?" she finally asked breathlessly.

"I don't know what you mean," I said cheerfully, giving her the best smile I could muster.

"Yes, you do," she chided, her voice becoming a little stronger as she lay still.

I bit my lip nervously. What could I say to belay her worry?

"That's your tell," she said softly with a gentle smile.

I released my lip and sighed. "It's really nothing for you to worry about."

"Where you are involved, I always worry." She gave my hand a weak squeeze. "I may be sick, but I'm not blind."

I stood up quickly and crossed the room to the little kitchen area. "What would you like for dinner?" I asked.

She chuckled softly behind me. "You'll tell Prince Chevalier, but you won't tell your own mother?"

My cheeks immediately flushed, and I was glad my back was to her. "If it makes you feel any better, I didn't want to tell him, either."

"He really likes you, doesn't he?"

"Mother!"

"I'm not deaf, either, Ivetta. I heard the carriage."

At least she couldn't see me biting my lip again.

"He likes anybody who does a good job."

"But he doesn't take everybody into town for festivals, or to the palace gardens to read, does he?" she asked teasingly.

I knew I shouldn't have told her anything about that.

"I think you have a wild imagination, Mother," I said coolly as the heat spread from my cheeks to my ears. "That was a national holiday, and I'm his personal maid, that's all."

She chuckled again. "Ivetta, you're very good at playing the part of a naïve child, but I know you much better than that."

"And you know that the mere suggestion of any sort of relationship between a maid and a prince is preposterous. This is the real world, not a fairy tale," I retorted.

She sighed. "Well, let a dying woman dream."

"Mother..."

"Not saying it won't change it, Ivetta. I just want to make sure you'll be taken care of after I-"