Iona and Tower started the day long ride out to her old cottage early the next morning. The winding stretch of road leaving the city and heading towards the countryside was heavy with fog and a light chill. There was a time when Iona and Asa made this exact trip together every month. Eventually though, Iona began to stay at the palace for longer and longer periods of time, until she thought of the palace more as her primary residence over the cottage. Her parents never seemed to mind since Iona was taking part in royal lessons and combat training, and she had Elia with her there. But now, Iona could sense looking back that Asa would have preferred to have her daughter at their family home more over those years. Time spent apart that they would never get back. She hadn’t made the trip to see her mother in…
Ten years, she thought, anxiety bubbling up in her stomach. Iona had thrown herself into the rebuild work after the War- twenty years of constant plotting, evacuating, fighting. She was simultaneously relieved when the final battle had ended, uneasy at the prospect of lingering hostiles, daunted by the vast amount of repairs that faced them, and emotionally lost. She needed to keep her mind busy to avoid falling into the deeper despair towards which her grief pulled her. Reconstruction filled that time well, but she could have found opportunities to see her mother.
Asa had lost her husband, Shome, two years into the War, the husband she’d loved her whole life. But unlike Iona, she had nowhere to go and a whole farm to maintain. Iona had learned from Asa’s letters that the townspeople assisted her any way they could, many of whom had children that were taught by her mother throughout the years. Iona used it as an excuse to avoid coming back, convincing herself that Asa had enough help. She would gloss over the invitations that closed out each one:
“I would love to see you darling, whenever you can spare the time.”
“I think about you every day, can’t wait until you’re able to visit.”
“I know you’re busy saving the kingdom, but don’t forget your mom who misses you!”
A mother’s guilt was a dark magic all its own, and even more powerful when it was deserved.
The sun had long set by the time they arrived, as Tower galloped up the rolling hill, and Iona’s eyes settled on the familiar cottage that sat atop. Even in the dark, Iona could see that nothing had changed- the sunbeaten bricks, the wall of thick, bright green ivy, her father’s various vegetable crops, and her mother’s gardening beds filled to the brim with a rainbow of flowers. The day’s ride was nothing of consequence to Tower, and he trotted right up to the door. Iona dismounted and pulled off his bridle. He knew he was free to roam here, and he would answer her call when she was ready to leave. With the energy of a child let loose on a playground, Tower scampered off. Confronted with the rickety wooden door, a lump formed in Iona’s throat. She’d run through what she would say to her mom over and over again on the ride, trying to strike a balance between saying sorry for abandoning her and staying strong in her resolve that heading straight out to reconstruction was the right thing to do- even if she didn’t quite believe the latter anymore. Did she ever?
Iona let out a long breath and reached her fist up. A single, hesitant rap on the door, and it swung open so fast, it could have flown right off the hinges. “Iona!” Asa cried. She flung her arms around her daughter and burst into tears. Iona stiffened, as she had prepared herself for the cold shoulder from her mother because, well, that’s what she deserved. But of course, her mom, a woman whose kindness radiated off her like sunlight, would never do such a thing to her own daughter.
“M- mom,” Iona stammered, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. The two women held each other as if their embrace could fill in all the missing time and space that had passed the last decade. For the first time in years and years, Iona felt the kind of comfort one can only feel in their true home. Her shoulders slumped a bit, her posture relaxed, and the rigidity of daily life as a commander dissipated here in this cottage of hers.
She pulled away from Asa’s arms, and started to speak, “Mom, I owe you an apology.”
Asa shooed away the words without a thought. “Oh, nonsense, my love. Come inside, and take those raggedy boots off. I’ll make sure they get cleaned and shined before you leave.” She herded Iona into the living room, warm from the crackling fireplace. Iona couldn’t give up that easily even though she wanted to, but she decided to try another apology later in the evening. Or maybe the next day- it was getting late, after all.
“My boots aren’t that bad,” Iona said as she tugged them off. She looked around the room and took in the sights- the small kitchen, brimming with baskets of fruits and vegetables harvested from their farm, the dining table her father had built with three chairs, one for each of them- and no visitors. Shome was never much for company. The couch in front of the fireplace needed replacing years ago, but Asa was very sentimental, and it was made for her and Shome as a wedding gift by a local builder. The two bedrooms were down the hall, and Iona got sleepy the second she laid eyes on her old bedroom door.
“Why don’t you wash up and get some rest, honey? I know you’ve been riding all day. Your bed’s made up with fresh sheets,” Asa said, walking over to Iona and placing her hand on her daughter’s cheek.
“Fresh sheets? Did you know I was coming?” Iona asked, yawning halfway through her question.
“I didn’t know for sure, but I hoped you would. It was wishful thinking, but turns out, I was right this time!” Asa smiled, her eyes wrinkling at the edges. This time, she thought. How many other nights had her mother dusted the house, changed the sheets on her bed, and prepared a fire, only for her daughter to not show up? Iona’s stomach twisted, and her face dropped, but Asa, ever her positive self, grabbed each of Iona’s hands and squeezed them reassuringly, “I am so happy you’re here.”
Iona smiled, “Me, too, mom.”
“I’ve left a plate by your bed, eat whatever you’d like and get some sleep; I need your help with harvesting tomorrow!”
Iona gave her mom a final hug and headed for her old bedroom, eager to eat and turn in. Her head hit the pillow not long after, and she was out- no nightmares, no jerking awake with a pounding chest- just pure, uninterrupted sleep.
Nearly ten hours later, she awoke to the most enchanting fragrance filling the room- her mother’s baking. Iona shot out of her bed as fast as she could and thumped down the hall like she was just a kid again. “What are you making?” Iona shouted ahead of her, even though she was only a few steps from finding out herself.
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“Well, looks like someone got enough sleep,” Asa said, her beaming smile permeating the room. Asa turned from the countertop with a platter in her hands and walked over to the dining table. Iona followed suit and finally saw the delicacies that awaited her: her mother’s lavender scones. Iona’s eyes widened as she snatched one up.
“Is it true that Prince Heston is finally being compelled to marry?” Asa mused. She popped back over to the counter and brought over her daughter’s favorite apricot preserves. Iona felt like she had been transported to the past, eating these cherished treats, usually reserved for her birthday. She supposed a homecoming counted as a celebration, too, even if she still needed to own up to her selfish decisions over the last ten years.
Asa waited for her daughter to scarf down a second scone with a thick spread of the sweet, fruity jam. After polishing off her breakfast, Iona realized she hadn’t answered her mother. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly, putting down the third scone that had magically appeared in her hand, “Heston, yes, it’s true. His search for a bride is why I was forced to leave behind my real duties. The King’s commanded that I work with Leo, of all people, to ready the palace and coordinate a ball for all the eligible princess-hopefuls throughout the kingdom and beyond. And I assume if we’re successful, there will be an immediate wedding to plan for, as well.”
Asa let out a hearty laugh, deep from her belly. “Leo?! Oh, I would love to watch the two of you in a room after all this time, planning a royal ball, at each other’s throats for no reason.”
“No reason?! Come on, Mom, Leo is always the reason. He is constantly trying to get a rise out of me, disagreeing with everything I suggest for his own entertainment. He’s never grown up,” Iona complained.
Asa’s face was awash with amusement, “You’ve always let him push your buttons. And you do it right back to him, don’t even begin to pretend you don’t.”
“Yeah, but when I do it, he deserves it,” Iona smirked, grabbing her third scone back up and tossing the whole thing in her mouth.
“Well, I think Heston is lucky to have you two on the hunt for his future wife. I don’t think he would ever settle down without the King making him anyways.”
“I still think the King could have hired a party planner,” Iona huffed while chewing.
Asa chuckled, “I’m sure he’s happy to have you all back with him at the palace, though. That man has been alone for a long time, hasn’t he?”
Iona nodded in agreement. “The Queen was always miserable though, so I suppose even before she absconded, he was quite lonely even when she was around,” she answered. Theron was married to Margot, the daughter of Ávine’s high lord, when they were both teenagers to secure a trade deal and allyship between the lands. The Queen refused to participate in kingdom business, preferring to exist as a ghost roaming the halls of the palace. Her contribution to Chrysos was having her children, though she never cared for them. Margot disappeared after news of Elia’s death.
“Chrysos has been in need of a real queen, one who actually cares to see that the kingdom is cared for. Margot was never that person, nor was she remotely a mother to her own children. Though I suppose she never even wanted to leave Ávine,” Asa pondered.
“No, she didn’t. But I guess we have an opportunity to get that all righted if we find Heston a wife at the ball,” Iona offered.
Asa smiled, and patted Iona’s leg. “I have complete faith in you. Finish up those scones, and let’s harvest. I have some wild carrots I’ve been growing that I think Tower will just love.” Iona smiled back, ready to get to work. She used to love assisting her father with the farm work, even though it could be grueling. Iona stood to follow her mom out the door, but glanced over her shoulder towards her parent’s bedroom. She half-expected to hear his voice coming from down the hall or see him walk by the window with a basket overflowing with his latest bounty from the garden. The thought of it pricked at Iona’s eyes, threatening to bring out tears, but she managed to smile through it and be grateful to be with her mother again.
Over the next few days, Iona and Asa fell right into their old routine- early wake up, sunrise ride with Tower and Whinny, Asa’s mare, then breakfast, harvesting, sorting, and cleaning. Each evening ended with glasses of wine and freshly picked fruits after dinner, snuggled up together on the couch in front of the hearth. Iona hadn’t experienced such comforts in too long; she needed this visit, just as much as Asa did.
A week flew by, and the time came for Iona to return to the palace. Refreshed as she was, Iona would like to have stayed even longer.A week just wasn’t enough. Asa and her daughter sat at the dining table for one final cup of coffee before she left.
“So the ball, it’s in…three months, you said?” Asa asked between sips.
“Yeah, maybe closer to two and a half, by now.”
“Wow, that’s…close,” Asa responded, almost murmuring. She watched her daughter over the edge of her coffee mug. Iona nodded, her eyes fixed on the table in front of her. Asa meant the ball was close to the date of Elia’s passing- the thirtieth anniversary of her best friend’s death. The ball was only a week after, and Iona was not looking forward to spending such a difficult day in the castle.
“King Theron is holding a dinner. Just with the boys and me. Would you be able, I mean, would you be willing to make the trip?” Iona could get through the night alone if she had to, but the thought of her mother being there in support made the task seem much less daunting. “If not, it’s okay, I know it’s a long ride.”
“Of course I’ll be there, my love,” Asa replied, giving her daughter’s arm a reassuring squeeze. Iona’s pinched expression softened.
“Thank you, Mom. For everything. I know that I haven’t been here as much as I should have, and look, before I go…I should have said this a long time ago-”
“Iona, it’s-” Asa started, but she let the words go as Iona lifted her hand off the table, signaling her need to continue.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been more reliable, Mom. I should have visited more, I should have written you more. I’m sorry, I left you here to deal with dad’s passing all by yourself. I will be better, I swear, it’s just been a hard few years, with everything…” Iona started to cry, unable to stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth, “I miss you, and I miss Elia, and I miss dad.”
“I know, honey, I know,” Asa answered, sweeping her daughter into a soothing hug. “You’ve been through a lot. We both have.” Iona sat back and looked at her mom. “I’ve missed you, too. And though you never needed to offer it, of course I accept your apology. But I am so proud of you, Iona. And your father was, too,” Asa said, pushing the hair that had fallen in Iona’s eyes back behind her ears, “You’re just like him. Your tenacity, your passion. All the things I loved about your father and more, I see them in you.” Comfortable silence passed between them for a few moments, swirled with sadness, love, and warmth.
Iona was able to spare a few words without more tears. “Thanks, mom. I’m lucky to have you,” she said, wiping her cheeks. They sat holding hands for another minute, enjoying the last few moments of each other’s company. Iona stood up and gathered her things, the weights with which she arrived falling away. “I’ll see you for the memorial dinner.”
Asa and Iona said their goodbyes, and Iona hopped on Tower to start the trek back, an extra bag of wild carrots tucked into the side of the saddle for him. A feeling remarkably close to contentedness filled Iona from head to toe, and off she rode for the capital city.