13th of Zenia, Year 384 of the 4th Age
We heard a knocking, a pounding rather, at the door. It couldn't have been very late, as the sun had only just gone down. When I went to look, your mother was there, looking quite disheveled and disarrayed. "Lady Autumnsong, what are you-"
She brushed me aside and immediately rushed in without a word, heading straight to the sitting room where your missus was going over old documents. "Frida!" She shouted, and Mrs. Summerwind stood and rushed to her in turn to help her into a seat. It took several minutes of calming her down with sweet leaf tea before she was finally able to explain her desperate need to be here.
She held the warm cup in her hands, shaking and shivering despite the roaring fire in the fireplace. "I can't shake this feeling, no matter how much I try not to think about it. Maybe you can help me."
"Of course, my lady. Anything for you." Frida knelt by her side, and the Lady placed a hand on her head. "Name it."
"A month ago, a few items went missing from my home; a pair of my husband's favorite cufflinks, a knife I made for Finn, and a music box. Then a week later, Phinneas discovered some money missing from the family vault. While these things alone seem incongruous, no one heard or saw anyone suspicious around the house when these items went missing. And yet, I seem to remember hearing you-" At this, she turned my way. "-speaking to someone a few days before I noticed anything gone. Immediately after, you seemed somewhat more cheery than you already were...So I need you both to be completely honest with me." She suddenly leaned closer to Frida and lowered her voice. I had to move to her other side to hear what she said next.
"...Is my son alive?" It was a question I had suspected she might ask. Your mother, Young Master, was as sharp as a knife and twice as quick. I'd never told anyone of your visit, not even your missus. The looks on their faces when I looked away and slowly nodded...I hope never to see such a face again; pain followed by relief and very quickly replaced with anger.
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"Why did you say nothing, Bellamina?" Frida asked, her voice calm and still like a frozen lake.
I had little choice but to be honest. "The Young Master requested I not tell anyone. He felt...He felt ashamed." I didn't want to tell them anything else you'd said to me, but my respect for them outweighed my loyalty, Young Master. I exposed you, and for that I am terribly sorry.
When I laid bare your reasoning as you explained it to me, along with the things you'd done to return, they were quiet for a long while. Finally, your mother spoke up.
"My own son could not speak his mind or even show his face to me." She said, collapsing with her head upon the knelt Frida's shoulder in a fit of tears. "I'm a horrible mother!" She cried out, and Frida was quick to correct her.
"No! You raised him so well, Lady Autumnsong. I don't think he ever spoke so highly of anyone else." Frida pat the Lady's head gingerly before continuing. "If he couldn't come to either of us, I think the fault lays on his shoulders. And that's something I hope he'll come to terms with. I loved your son, milady. I still do, nothing's going to change that."
The Lady remained quiet a while longer. I wish I could have taken that pain from her.
Slowly, she stood, the kneeling half-giant still a head taller than her even kneeling. She leaned up and kissed Frida on the cheek. "I feel better knowing he's out there somewhere, hopefully alive and looking after himself...Which makes the other half of my news all the more upsetting, or perhaps more liberating. Starting next week, you'll never have to call me Lady Autumnsong again. Phinneas says he's done with me, that I bore him with my glumness these past few years. He's filed for divorce, so you'll soon be seeing me around town as Lady Breia Thornfoot again."
This should have been happy news. We never saw the Lady again after that night. Where she went, I cannot say. What I do know is that not long after her disappearance, Lord Autumnsong was married again, to one Uma Sackings.
As for your missus, Young Master...