Shadows of Demise (The Warrior Angels Trilogy - Book 3)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ashton smiled as he watched his mother run about in the kitchen, tidying up as she went.

"I did not expect to have guests today," she said. "Would anyone like tea?"

Beatrice sat in one of the dining chairs and nodded. "That would be lovely, thank you."

"It is such an honor to have you here, Your Majesty."

"The real honor is having Ashton back." Beatrice smiled at him.

His mother laughed softly as she filled a cup with fresh piping chamomile tea. She set it down in front of Beatrice and gestured for Luc to take a seat as well. Luc thanked her and chose the chair across from Beatrice. Ashton sat to Beatrice's left.

Amity entered from the back door, clutching a bouquet of sunflowers. The sunlight glowed around her like an outline, brightening her copper hair and making it appear redder. Like Mayra's...

Ashton swallowed hard and looked away. Amity walked up to the table and curtsied to Beatrice before handing her the bouquet.

"These are... for me?" Beatrice asked as she accepted them.

"We have so many growing out back," Amity said. "You should take some time to go out there and admire the entire garden. We've worked hard to make it as beautiful as it is."

Ashton looked up at her and felt his chest tighten. She hardly resembled the little girl who used to follow him everywhere in the market.

"Why are you staring at me?" she asked.

"I'm doing my best to accept that you are a young lady now. You are identical to Mother."

Her cheeks darkened with a shade of pink, and she ducked her head as she smiled. She turned to leave and paused when Beatrice thanked her again for the sunflowers. Amity's cheeks were purely red by the time she left the kitchen.

When his mother placed a cup of tea in front of him, he expected her to smile as well. Instead, she walked to the end of the table and sat down, a hardened expression on her face.

"You came back to fight, didn't you?" she asked him.

Ashton inhaled softly and nodded as he exhaled. "Richard wrote to me, asking for my assistance. I've trained better with my sword and other weapons over the years."

"Is that supposed to make me feel any better?"

"I know it doesn't. It took every bit of my strength to leave."

She took a deep breath and looked at him. "You promise me—promise me—you will fight your hardest to come back to us." Then the corners of her mouth rose. "And to your wife. How is Mayra?"

"She's well, and... so are our daughters." His mother's eyes went comically wide, and she gawked at him. He grinned—so hard his cheeks went sore almost immediately.

She reached for his hands and clutched them like she'd never let go. He watched as water lined her lower lids, and he bit down on his tongue.

"I have granddaughters?" she asked.

"Three of them," he answered, breathing in a little unsteadily.

"What are their names? How old are they—oh, Ashton. Why did you not write us to inform us?"

"Life has been quite busy, and I am so sorry I never wrote." He gave her hands a gentle squeeze before explaining everything about Rowan, Esme, and Sadie. He detailed how he fell in love with Mayra—the warmth in her touch, her sweet smile, and her ever-lasting support in anything he did or said.