Chapter 12

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 Your heart was stuck in your throat as your mother pulled away from Theo. Her daughter. Your mother's daughter. Her other child.

"Oh, thank the gods." She said, patting down Theo's hair where she had just kissed it. Your stomach dropped — that used to be you. The child in your mother's grasp used to be you. Now, it was Theo. Your...sister?

"Sorry, Mom." Theo's voice was sheepish, strained. It wasn't like you had ever heard her — not the usual condescending or sarcastic tone she carried. But you supposed everyone acted differently around their mothers.

Theo's mother — your mother — clicked her tongue. "If you ever do that again..."

The first words you spoke weren't the ones you expected. "Theo did well. She's a fighter."

Your mother's eyes cast over you, absent of any flicker of recognition. "That's what I'm worried about." She smiled at you, but in a polite way. Your stomach churned as she reached into the front of her apron. "Well, here. Your reward."

She stepped toward you, her relief-filled smile not the one you were hoping for. You stared at her for a moment too long, making her frown. After clearing your throat, you shook your head.

"We can't take that," you said, almost surprising yourself.

Your mother frowned, pushing the pouch out again. "You must. You helped my daughter. I can't let that go unrewarded."

You blinked, taking a sharp breath in. Part of you felt distant from the conversation as if you were watching it from the outside, like a memory, or a dream — or a nightmare.

Again, you cleared your throat, trying with every muscle in your body to keep your composure. "Your daughter didn't need any of our help, ma'am. Like I said, she's a fighter."

Your mother tilted her head, a pleased smile finding its way on her face before she nodded, "I appreciate that." She looked at you a second longer before turning around, shoving the pouch back in her apron as she made her way behind the counter. It was then that you noticed this wasn't any shop — it was a bakery. As your stomach churned once more, your mother spoke, "Here. At least take some food with you. I can only imagine how hungry you must be."

This time, you let Geralt step forward, his eyes casting over you for a moment before taking the loaf of bread from your mother's hands. Jaskier thanked her gently, nodding to her and Theo and taking your arm in his hand. You kept your eyes locked on her, only moving them when Jaskier led you out the door.

As soon as the fresh air hit your face, you felt like maybe you could finally breathe. That feeling wasn't enough; you blinked at the brightness around you, taking very shallow breaths as Jaskier led you further away from your mother's shop.

Geralt walked ahead, grunting about meeting you and Jaskier at the inn. His eyes stopped on you before leaving, but you were too focused on the harshness of your breaths.

Jaskier stopped in front of you, his eyes flitting over your face. "Are you alright? You look like you've seen a wraith." You flicked your eyes to him, and as if he were a mind reader, his jaw dropped. "No— that's not—"

You cut him off, casting your eyes on the ground, "My mother. Yes. That's her."

Jaskier stuttered, his head shaking in confusion, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Julian—" You looked at him, your eyes full of regret. "I can't."

"What? Why not?"

"I can't...I just can't. I can't face her, I can't—"

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