I couldn’t say I liked it much either, but I certainly wasn’t going to leave it in Gio’s keeping. I checked the position of the sun on my way into the city – setting quickly. I was running late. I had to take the sword back to the ship; I didn’t dare bring it to the palace. Too many questions. So I rushed back to the ship, nodding to my guards, and stowed the sword in my cabin beneath the thin mattress in my berth. I could still make it to the palace in time for dinner if I hurried.

But I re-emerged on deck to the sounds of an argument.

“Well, if I can’t get on the ship, send someone to Jovis and tell him I’m here.”

I froze, my heart caught in my throat. I knew that voice. Mephi gave me a questioning look, but I didn’t have the breath to answer. I made my way to the gangplank.

There, on the dock, was my mother.

Seven years – and they’d changed her in all the ways that didn’t matter. Her hair was streaked with silver, her cheeks just a shade more gaunt, the wrinkles around her lips more prominent. But her stance was one I’d recognize anywhere: hands on hips, head lowered, as though she were about to charge through any obstacle, her skull leading the way. She often looked at me that way when she was frustrated – when I’d told one too many stories, or when I’d not heard what she’d said for the third time. She wore a cloak over her clothes, her pants tucked into her boots and a satchel at her side.

“Wait!” I put a hand on the shoulder of the guard. “I know her. That’s my mother.”

“She said as much,” the man said, “but we couldn’t be sure.”

I gave him a pat to let him know no harm done, slipped past him and descended the gangplank on shaky knees.

“Hey,” I said, unsure of what to do. Was she angry with me? I’d be angry with me. I’d disappeared for seven years.

She reached up, seizing my face between her palms. Her black eyes searched mine, wet with tears. I thought my heart would beat out of my chest as I waited for her to say something. Anything. “Jovis,” she said finally, her voice shaking, “you foolish, foolish boy. The Ioph Carn? How could you?”

I was a grown man with a lofty position. But I wilted beneath her glare, feeling like I’d never left Anau, like I was still a child. “I’m sorry. I had to.”

She seized my hair in her fists, shook me a little. “You never have to do anything. You chose to. Don’t lie to me and don’t lie to yourself.”

The knot in my throat unwound, tears pricking at my eyes. “I missed you.”