The next morning, Summer went to the lake, met the kid as she always did, and they trained together. He'd brought a rope with him. So they made a slightly more successful attempt at climbing down the tree.

After they were drenched in sweat, they sat under the tree and talked, a routine they'd developed over the past couple of weeks. The kid complained about his teachers and how they coddled him, writing on his board in neat letters.

He was quickly becoming a friend. Her only friend besides Rose, who Summer hadn't seen or heard from for weeks now.

Perhaps Ida and Leon could have been her friends in another life. But Summer had no illusions about her place in their lives. Leon was the prince, a member of the royal family, and she was just a little thief. And Ida's first loyalty would always be to Leon and the throne.

So Summer told the kid about the letter.

"Do you think I should go?" she asked. "She might be a criminal."

The kid stared at the lake for a long time, taking his time to reply. His frequent displays of maturity always took her by surprise.

You should go, he wrote, if I had the chance to meet my mother even once, I wouldn't miss it.

Summer's heart ached for him. "Even if she's a criminal?"

She's still your mother.

***

After breakfast, Summer handed Lily the note she'd written for Leon.

"Give these to Leon- his highness- at noon."

The girl looked at her with wide eyes. "My Lady! What is this? Why can't you give it to him yourself? I'm just a maid, he won't-"

"Just do as I say, please, Lily. It's very, very important. Give it to him, or to Ida, at noon. Not before. Not after," Summer said. "Trust me, alright?"

Lily looked puzzled, but she nodded. It took more convincing and reassurance, but Lily promised she would deliver the message at noon.

With that done, Summer told her that she would rest in her room for the remainder of the morning. When Lily left, Summer took out the envelope, donned a gray cloak and sneaked out.

It was easier to break out of the castle now that she knew the guards stations and their schedules. There were more outsiders in the castle than usual, so that also helped. Getting through the outer gates proved more tricky, but Summer's gift of going unnoticed was honed for years, and getting past the guards as a chariot went through or a group of riders galloped past was an easy task. It worried her that she could very easily break out of the royal castle. Leon would not be pleased about the failing of security.

As soon as she was out of the castle's outer perimeter walls, Summer looked back. It truly was a magnificent sight. The citadel was at the very top of the hill, surrounded by thick woods and walls. The military buildings were barely visible as they were mostly one-floor constructions. The guards on the parapets of the outer walls looked like ants from where she stood far below.

According to the map, the lightly wooded area surrounding the castle would stop right at the first row of buildings of the city, massive mansions with lush gardens and stone walls. Summer looked around, remembering Rose's words that Felix lived in a house near the castle. Would her friend live in one of these residences? It seemed surreal.

She hadn't heard from Rose in weeks. Perhaps her friend was simply busy with her new life. Summer wanted to ask about her, she wanted to meet her. But she didn't want to seem like an overly attached friend.

Summer sighed and strolled along the street. She would deal with Rose after meeting her supposed mother, if Leon didn't throw her right back in prison.

Few people walked along the streets even with the beautiful weather. More rode on horses. As she moved farther away from the castle, the streets got more populated and the houses got smaller.

Clusters of children ran together, playing, enjoying the sunny days. Women wore flowing dresses and skirts, colorful ribbons braided into their hair. Men wore tunics and pants in colors ranging from shades of green and gray to gold. No color seemed forbidden, no style to frilly or too tame.

Neatly placed flower beds lined the sides of the houses, rich in spring and summer colors. The streets were paved and clean, with trees planted in constant intervals, providing shade for people.

She walked past a sprawling building with children running in and out of it, laughing, playing. An Orphanage. Summer stopped and looked. The building was in pristine condition. The children looked healthy and cheerful. A middle-aged woman poked her head out of the second floor window and called out, "Angelica! Camelia! Sage! If you three miscreants don't come here this instant you will not get dessert tonight!"

Three children ran past Summer, two girls and a boy with mud-stained boots and trousers, and ran into the house, giggling and squealing. They couldn't be older than nine, and they didn't look remotely scared.

Summer tried to imagine herself at that age. Had she been kicked out of the orphanage by then? She couldn't remember anyone, herself included, misbehaving and laughing under the eyes of the orphanage staff.

She looked up and down the street. The orphanage wasn't located on the edge of the city, out of sight, but right in the heart of it, where children could become part of the community without a buffer.

Maybe things were different here, after all. Or maybe this was the norm, and her old town was an exception.

Hoping things would become better for the children back home, Summer continued on her way.

She ambled along the main street, careful not to get derailed by all the unfamiliar sights and the overwhelming novelty. As she got closer to the center of the city, the streets got more crowded, people more lively and diverse. Residential houses changed into inns and restaurants. Carts and wagons made their way among people. Unlike her old town where wood was the main building material, the capital was almost entirely built of gray stone often painted in shades of white and blue and yellow.

Summer felt like she was in another world. So different this was from her old town, so bright and colorful and alive. The thought of even going back made her suffocate. How could one live in such a gray place after seeing this dynamic place?

She also knew, however, that living anywhere near the center of the city would drive her insane. She needed trees and fresh air and space. No matter how much she liked it now, she knew she wouldn't bear to live in such a crowded space.

She needed to think about her future. Perhaps she could find work here, maybe a place to live in the suburbs of the capital. Close enough to the bustle and the vivacity of the capital, but far enough that she wouldn't be overwhelmed.

But she was getting ahead of herself. First, she had to get over the hurdles life kept throwing her way. Like a mother who had abandoned her suddenly appearing in her life. Her heart sputtered again at the thought of meeting her parent.

Summer went into an alley between buildings and pulled out the map. It was easy to navigate the city since almost every place could be identified by a placard hanging on the entrance.

It didn't take her long to reach the market place. Her old town's market street was a joke compared to this. It expanded over several streets, entire buildings, shops and stalls offering services and merchandise the likes of which Summer had never before seen.

One stall sold porcelain dishes and cups, colorful and gleaming, that came from the east, beyond the sea. Another offered dried fruits and nuts in a mouthwatering variety. Vivid rugs and picturesque carpets, rich dresses and outlandish head coverings, it seemed like every corner of the world was displayed in the marketplace.

The people strolling or selling were as fascinating to Summer as the goods for sale, and equally as diverse. Their tongues as well as their appearance. Rich, dark skin in mesmerizing shades of brown and gold and lively hair in curls and waves. Deep, slanted eyes in hues of honey and earth with silky hair that shone in the sun. Pale skinned people with light hair ranging from gold to a reddish brown and light eyes. And an amalgam of all those traits in people whose ancestry found its origins in different corners of the world.

Summer wondered at her own origins. She would find out soon enough, she thought, standing between two crowded stalls and observing the house in which her supposed mother should be.

There were numerous houses in the marketplace, most of which must be the merchants' homes.

The place she watched with keen eyes was a two story building, painted in a nondescript off-white color with haggard looking windows and a simple wooden door. It wasn't in the best of conditions.

As Summer watched, no one came in or out of it. The windows and the door remained closed. Summer checked the knife she had swiped from the breakfast tray that morning. It made her feel safer. Perhaps this was a ploy to get her away from the castle, perhaps someone wanted her dead, although she couldn't figure out a reason why. Whatever the risk, she was willing to take it if there was even the smallest chance she would meet her mother.

A clock struck in the distance. She looked at the shadows on the ground. It was noon. Leon would be getting her note by now. She had described the address of the house the best she could, it was located between an inn and a restaurant with flashy names, so it wouldn't take him long to find her. He would be furious with her.

She headed to the door and hoped she would stay alive long enough to feel his wrath.

***

The door opened seconds after she rapped.

The man inside was dressed in black, with a cloak that failed to hide the sword at his hip. Broad shouldered and towering height, he reminded Summer of a rocky mountain, immovable and harsh.

The light brown hair that brushed his shoulders was graying at the temples, his face weathered with age, grooves lining his cheeks and forehead and the corners of his eyes.

She looked up so the cloak's hood didn't cover her face. And his eyes, a sharp blue, reflected brief surprise before they iced over again.

He stood aside. "Come in." His voice held an odd accent.

Summer hesitated, she could see nothing beyond the door. The house, what she could see of it, was dark and empty.

Don't think about it. Just do it.

She stepped inside and moved to keep the Mountain guy in her sight as he closed the door. It was dark except for the slits of lights that sneaked through the gaps of the door frame.

"Follow me." He gave her his back as he strode down a hallway, which meant they didn't consider her a threat. Good. That gave her an advantage.

The old floorboard creaked under the Mountain's footsteps as he led her to a room in the back of the house. Summer took stock of the space. A closed window that couldn't be opened because of the wooden bars nailed over it. A dirty brown rug on the floor. Three muted lanterns that provided enough light to see. The only piece of furniture was a chair on which a woman sat, behind her stood two younger men. Armed as well.

The Mountain left after a nod to the woman, and Summer froze after crossing the threshold.

Her gaze was riveted on the other woman. Summer looked at a reflection of herself.

Her hair was darker and smoother, coiled in the back of her head and, along with her elegant blue dress and black cloak, was the only difference between the two women.

"Oh, my," the woman said, her voice husky and low, "you certainly do take after me."

Summer remembered to breathe, her heart a wild drum in her chest. The woman stood and took a few steps closer. She had the same slight build as Summer. She even looked young. How old was she exactly when she had Summer?

Summer was looking at her mother. A woman who was possibly, probably, involved in the theft that had put an end to innocent lives. The thought snapped her out of her shock.

She took a deep breath and held the envelope up, grateful her hand didn't shake, "you're the person who sent this?"

The woman's brows raised. "Indeed. I am surprised you came on your own, however."

There was something haughty and presumptuous about her. The tilt of her chin, the way her eyes seemed to look down on everything, the slight purse of her lips. Summer didn't like her. The thought hurt.

"What did you want?" Summer asked, pocketing the envelope to free both hands. "I assume you called me here because you have something to say."

"Meeting your mother after twenty three years," she said, a hint of curiosity and disbelief in her tone, "you do not look surprised at all."

Good, Summer thought.

"Summer," the woman said, "what an uninteresting name. One would think they would come up with something better with the amount of money I left behind with you."

That was the first time Summer heard anything of the sort. "You left money for the orphanage?"

"Well, yes. I wasn't about to leave them without a penny to raise you."

"But you didn't want to do it yourself."

Her mother sighed. "It's complicated, child."

"I am no child." Summer had never really had the chance to be a child.

Her mother gave her a long look, her violet eyes peering into her soul. "No, you are not."

"What should I call you? Lady Mauve?" Summer asked, and was pleased to see her surprise. Oh, yes, mother dearest. I know your name.

"You may call me Mother, if you wish," she said.

"Why did you call me here, Lady Mauve?"

"I was...curious," she said, stepping closer. "I wanted to make sure of the rumors myself."

"And?"

Summer closed her hand over the knife in her pocket when her mother kept coming closer. The men in the room all tensed. She was sure they would be on her if she made the slightest movement to threaten their Lady's safety.

"Blood breeds true," she mumbled.

Up close, Summer could see small lines on her mother's face. She wasn't as young as she appeared from a distance. Perhaps in her early forties. Their eyes were the exact shade.

"Why did you leave me?" Summer asked the question, no matter how vulnerable it made her seem. She was too curious.

"Sometimes we have to do things we do not want," Lady Mauve said.

"So you didn't want to leave me?"

"As I said, it's complicated."

"Who is my father?"

"Someone you don't know," her mother said, her face iced over. "You don't need to know."

"It isn't up to you to decide," Summer said hotly.

"I am your mother. I would know best."

Summer barked out a laugh that held no mirth. "Oh, that's rich."

Clasping her hands demurely in front of her stomach, Lady Mauve raised her chin. "Those are things you don't need to bother yourself with. I will explain everything, however, if you are to come with me."

Baffled, Summer frowned at the woman who looked so much like her, no one would miss the fact they were mother and daughter. "Why would I do that?"

Lady Mauve cocked her head to the side. "I understand that you are a guest of the prince. It must be appealing to be in such a prestigious position. But surely you do understand he will soon lose the interest he has in you."

It was obvious what her mother thought of Summer's relationship with Leon. For the first time, Summer wondered if other people in the castle thought the same. She gave her mother a cold smile.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, this kingdom's court will not be safe for you once they realize whose offspring you are."

"So you are involved in the theft of the artifact."

"A theft, or a retrieval," Lady Mauve smiled, "it depends on one's point of view."

So they believed the artifact was theirs?

"Whose point of view?" Summer asked.

"You do not concern yourself with such things," Lady Mauve waved her hand off.

"You killed innocents," Summer said, "the guards who were simply doing their duty. And you hired thugs who hurt a child without any misgivings."

"Collateral damage," Lady Mauve said, "greatness cannot be achieved without sacrifice. In the grand scheme of things, a few lives are an acceptable loss."

Summer shook her head, unable to accept that this woman was her mother. A person who brushed aside lost lives with careless disregard.

"You have much to learn," she said with a placating smile. "This place is not safe for you. Come with me, daughter."

Summer took a step back when Lady Mauve reached out a hand as if to touch her cheek. The hand dropped.

"Why do you want me to come along?" Summer asked.

"You're my daughter."

"I've been your daughter for twenty three years," Summer said. "But you suddenly care now?"

A hint of impatience crossed Lady Mauve's eyes, she masked it quickly enough, but Summer caught it.

"Don't you want to find out more about yourself?" Mauve asked, "about your parents? about your lineage? Why do you want to stay in a place where you have nothing."

She didn't want anything to do with her mother anymore. But she wanted to find out more about Lady Mauve, any information that would help Leon. "And where will you take me?"

"Where you belong."

Summer moved away from the door when she heard the rushing footsteps seconds before the Mountain appeared, looking frazzled, "my Lady, something is going on."

Damn it. Leon was faster than she anticipated. Lady Mauve gave her a scalding look then barked an order at the men.

"Let's leave. Get her."

Everything happened at once. The Mountain moved towards Summer. The Lady's two guards pulled the rug off the floor and opened a hatch that led underground. Lady Mauve went down first.

Summer dodged the man's hand at the last moment, moved around him on quick feet and struck sharply on the side of his neck. Her speed and the element of surprise helped her, but the man was well trained, and he'd moved at the very last moment, lessening the efficiency of her strike. He swayed as he turned to face her. Summer kicked the man's knee in, it crunched. He fell down on one knee.

A commotion outside, then a loud bang followed by heavy footsteps and natural light bursting into the house through the broken door.

Summer leaped over the Mountain towards the door. She glanced back in time to see one of the two men glancing at her, before cursing and dragging the Mountain towards the open latch on the ground.

She made a move toward them to stall them while help arrived, but his gleaming sword stopped her. They disappeared down underground right as footsteps barreled down the hallway her way.

Several men in the royal guards' green and golden garbs suddenly filled every available space. The first one entered the room right as the hatch closed with a loud thud. Summer recognized Al.

"Why didn't you stop them?" he glared at her as his men tried to open the hatch.

"They were armed," Summer said, her heart in her throat.

Leon walked in, a silent storm. He glanced at her, the cold fury in his gaze took her by surprise. She'd never seen him so angry.

"Take her back," he said then turned to the men awaiting his orders. "I want every man out there looking for the other side of the exit. You two, force that hatch open-"

Summer didn't hear the rest of his orders because Al had taken her arm in a death grip and led her outside. The street was empty except for the guards, abandoned stalls and shops.

Summer shook her arm out of Al's grasp. He tightened his hand. "You better stay put. Right now, even Leon won't get you out of the pile of crap you put yourself into."

--- ---- ---

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