“Mother! I need to talk to you.”
“Ivelina?”
I threw the door open.
“What is that dress?”
I was taken aback. Mother was holding a gown up against herself — one that was not her own.
“You shouldn’t touch other people’s things, Mother.”
“It isn’t someone else’s.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Your husband — no, not quite yet. The Duke had all of this prepared for me.”
“He what?!”
I almost shouted it. Mother handed me a small note.
‘Everything in this room is new, and it is all yours — please make free with it.’
‘This man — honestly!’
‘He did exactly this before! He did the same thing with my friends — just showered them with things!’
“Mother — I have something important to discuss. Can we sit down for a moment?”
“Does it have to be right now? I’ve been talking with your father all morning and I’m quite drained.”
“This is urgent! It’s about my marriage!”
“What? Your marriage? Sit down this instant.”
Mother hung the dress hurriedly on its hanger and drew me by the wrist to the small table by the window.
“Tell me. What’s the matter? Has something gone wrong with the wedding?”
“Mother — the truth is… I’ve been having nightmares.”
“Have you? What kind of dreams — tell me.”
“Dreams about dying in this estate.”
“Mm?”
“I have them quite often.”
“Hmm…”
Mother fell into apparent contemplation.
‘Good. She can’t be entirely unconcerned when her daughter is dreaming of her own death.’
Time to press harder.
“And — I’ve been having meaningful dreams since I was young. Vivid ones. And they’ve come true, with alarming frequency.”
“Do you believe in dreams?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“They’re superstition, aren’t they. No scientific basis whatsoever. Do you genuinely believe in them?”
‘Here was the problem.’
Mother had studied mathematics at the Academy.
‘Why did I only remember that now?’
‘No — there are plenty of science-minded people who believe in superstition. It’s not impossible.’
“Well — with such a high accuracy rate, calling it baseless feels a little premature.”
“Hmm. Dreams.”
Mother rested her chin on her hand and seemed to be genuinely thinking it over. The force of my argument had apparently made some impression.
“I’ll give it some thought. What you’re saying does leave me feeling unsettled.”
“Really — truly?”
“Yes. I’ll think about it while we’re here. Now go on — I need to sleep early tonight. I’m exhausted.”
“Eh? Already? I still have more to say—”
“I spent the entire morning being lectured by your father. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
* * *
Jane, the Countess, had recently developed insomnia.
Her husband’s nagging had grown worse with time — and after Ivelina’s broken engagement, it had grown worse still. Jane had spent some weeks in a state of frayed nerves.
She slept soundly tonight, for the first time in a long while.
She stretched in bed as sunlight poured through the window.
‘The mattress is remarkably comfortable. And I even had a pleasant dream.’
Dreams.
Jane suddenly recalled Ivelina’s words.
‘Mother, I’ve been having nightmares.’
‘Of what? Tell me.’
‘Dying in this estate.’
She didn’t believe in such things, as a rule. But it was her daughter speaking, so naturally it stayed with her.
‘I ought to speak with Ivelina again today.’
On that thought, Jane looked around. Her throat was dry.
Fortunately, a glass of water and light refreshments had been left on the bedside table.
‘Lizi must have come by. Hmm — what’s this?’
Beneath the water glass was a small note.
* * *
“Welcome, Mother-in-law.”
‘Mother-in-law?’
Jane was caught off guard the moment she entered the receiving room.
She had spent ten years as Edwin’s prospective mother-in-law — and in all that time, not once had she been addressed that way.
‘It isn’t bad, actually.’
It made her feel rather good.
“Good day, Your Grace. It’s been a little while, hasn’t it? I hope you’ve been well.”
“I have, thank you — and it’s thanks to your daughter.”
‘He has such a lovely way with words.’
It struck her now: Edwin had been an entirely unpleasant young man. She had simply not noticed.
Jane was pleased.
“I’m glad to hear it. I’m embarrassed, honestly — showing up in such a state. I don’t know what you must think of me.”
“Not at all.”
She had arrived at her daughter’s fiancé’s home in the middle of a marital dispute. However natural a future son-in-law he might become, Jane felt it only right to express her gratitude.
“It was a genuinely difficult situation, and your help meant a great deal. I’m truly thankful for your consideration.”
“Should you require anything in the future, please don’t hesitate to say so.”
‘Cold expression, but every word is warm.’
This was their first proper one-on-one meeting. It gave Jane the chance to observe him closely.
The Duke took a sip of tea.
“Are your accommodations comfortable?”
“More than comfortable, thanks to you. I really am grateful.”
“I’m glad. Ah — and this.”
Kael slid a white envelope across the table.
Jane looked at it with wide eyes.
“What is this?”
“I think it would be best if you opened it.”
“Oh…”
Jane lifted the envelope carefully. She took out what was inside.
And went very still.
“This is…”
“It’s the only sort of help I’m able to offer.”
‘What in the world.’
Her future son-in-law had handed her a cash bank draft. For an extraordinarily large sum.
“I — I can’t accept this. The amount alone… I would have no face left…”
“Compared to Ivelina, this is nothing.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You gave birth to her and raised her. This much is the least I can do.”
“Goodness… my.”
“I do ask one thing in return — please don’t tell Ivelina.”
“…Keep it secret?”
“Yes. She has a habit of feeling burdened by such things.”
‘My son-in-law doesn’t know how to take credit for anything.’
Jane had spent a lifetime around men who announced their generosity as loudly as possible — her father, her husband, every man she had known. She had been a countess for over twenty years and had never once held money of her own. Everything had belonged to Damian, regardless of how much there was.
Something warm rose slowly in Jane’s chest.
“I will do everything I can to ensure your stay here is comfortable.”
* * *
“Mother, I’m here.”
She had said ‘tomorrow’ — and tomorrow had arrived.
I stopped by Mother’s room first thing in the morning.
“Ivelina, come in.”
Mother seemed entirely at ease in this place.
The worn, hollow look she had carried only yesterday had been replaced by a glow of something like life.
“Did something good happen, Mother?”
“Hmm?”
“You look completely different. There are flowers in your face.”
“It — it must be the change of bed. The mattress here is wonderfully comfortable.”
“Ah, I see. Anyway — did you give any thought to what I said yesterday?”
“What did you say?”
“The dreams. The nightmares.”
‘Right. That.’
“Ivelina. Do you know?”
“Know what?”
“Dreams always mean the opposite of what they show.”
* * *
