My Patchwork Child

Chapter Fifteen

I was afraid as we strode into the place Alden had run from. Glancing around, I saw people giving me strange looks. A couple of them seemed to recognized Alden and gave him a friendly smile and wave, but no one spoke to him.

Cinder retreated as an angry-looking woman stormed over to us. She had dark brown hair, just like Alden, which she'd tied into a ponytail. One strip of hair was woven into a plait and it wrapped around the bunch of hair fastened back. She wore a simple, yet posh, dress. She looked very rich.

'Alden!' She screeched, grabbing his collar. She looked at me and sharpened her brown gaze, 'Who is this?!' The women demanded.

He reached up and held onto her wrist, 'Mother, please.' He began, trying to chide her into calmness.

'Tell me!'

He sighed, 'Her name's Misty. I found her with a boulder on her leg, it seems her village had suffered from an earthquake. She was the only survivor.'

The woman didn't seem pleased, 'So, you've dragged this wretched child back to me, hm?' Defensiveness swarmed in his gaze and he wrenched himself from her grasp.

'Don't ever insult her, mother.' He warned.

Shock was clear in her expression and she muttered, 'You should've left her,' She raised her voice to a loud shout, 'YOU IDIOT. YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT HER TO ROT.'

Throwing his palm forward, his hand met her cheek with a sharp slapping noise following his smooth and confident movement.

A red-patch swelled around where he'd hit her and she stumbled backwards. 'Mother!' He cried in horror. 'I always knew you were a monster, but certainly not this horrible. But it seems you're horrible enough to say that about a child!' He said, almost scolding her.

She drew herself to her full height, placing a gentle hand on her hot face. Inhaling distinctly, I thought they were going to have a full-on row.

Alden stood with broadened shoulders, his arms twitching with anticipation. Guess he isn't the only one expecting a fight.

Leaning over, I did the first thing I thought of. Ask them to stop.

'P-please! D-don't fight. You're mother and s-son. There's no need.' I begged, grabbing hold of his wrist.

He glanced at me before relaxing. 'You're right.' He softened his gaze, 'I know I'd never want to fight you.' Alden whispered to me and I smiled at him.

He gestured towards his mother, 'Misty, mother. We've gotten off to a bad start. Can we please try again?'

The fiery woman seemed to cool off slightly. She nodded stiffly. 'Very well.'

He sighed, leaving his hand where it was, relief washed over both of us, 'Misty, this is Andrea, my mother. Mother, this is Misty,' He hesitated, biting his lip. Neither of us knew how to label our relationship. I guessed he was debating between sister and daughter. He settled on, '...my daughter.'

My heart beat faster at his words and I almost wanted to cry. Finally, I had a father!

Andrea raised an eyebrow at her son's words, 'Is that so? You certainly haven't been gone long enough for her to be blood-related, so how exactly is she your...daughter?' Her voice was posh and elegant, but sounded as though she had a cold as it was muffled at the back of her throat.

He ducked his head, 'Mother, can we please speak about this at home?'

She sniffed and spun promptly on her heel. 'If you so insist.'