Nelanna hummed happily in response, holding Cecil close. Her heart swelled with warmth, and then they pulled away only for him to kiss her. She could not help giggling a little against his lips, not from amusement, but joy. Cecil always showed her what she meant to him, spoiling her with his love and attention. She liked to imagine his reaction when she tells him the news. Nelanna did not want to wait. But they were in earshot of others, and she wished to tell him when they are more alone. The squeal and clap was a reminder that the time was not now. She broke the kiss and blushed at the girl’s words. “Yes, and Cecil is an amazing man,” she replied with a loving look at her handsome Fae.
She dipped her head in greeting when Cecil introduced her to the young girl. “It is a pleasure,” she said to Sybil, and as they turned away she wished the girl good fortune. Nelanna had been unaware that Cecil made friends over here, but she was happy for him. He was making his own dreams come true. And she could not be more proud. He put a hand around her waist, an act that she copied, and he took her further down the streets. She listened as he gave her a brief telling on his client, nodding in agreement with his hopes. The elf wanted him to be successful and happy. He threw his own question at her, and she refrained from giving away her surprise with a too large of a smile. “Well, I am not ill,” she began.
Another voice suddenly called out to Cecil, preventing Nelanna from going on. She stifled a sigh of impatience. She needed to be his obedient wife and remain silent as he worked with his clients. But as she turned to offer his client a friendly smile, all color drained from her face. She knew those perfect red curls, the curve of the woman’s mature face, and those dangerously misleading sky blue eyes. It was the woman who stood by and watched as Nelanna’s father beat her, the woman who cured Nelanna’s wounds only to hide evidence. She would accept no thing short of perfection, tolerated no freedom of thought, will, and action. Nelanna was never a true daughter to her, only a doll put on display. Property, and nothing else. Why her mother was there, Nelanna did not know. She only cared that she was, and she needed to get away.
She moved behind Cecil, head kept low, hoping that she would not be recognized. To her horror, however, Cecil forced her out of hiding. It was not his fault, she never told him much about her past, hoping to leave it behind. What a mistake that was. Nelanna was frozen as she stood before her mother with wide eyes, nought too dry to speak. Iselora smiled at Nelanna, not recognizing her until her name was spoken. Iselora blinked with disbelief. “Nelanna?” She repeated. A few more heartbeats, and then it sunk in. “Nelanna, my darling, is it really you?” She came closer, movements slow and careful as she placed a hand on Nelanna’s cheek. She stiffened at the touch. “Hello… mother,” she managed to say. Iselora beamed and pulled her in an embrace. “My sweet child! When you vanished, I feared the worst had happened to you!”
“I am alright. No harm came to me,” said Nelanna, her voice sounding forced. Iselora pulled back with a smile of relief, “Yes, I can see you are doing well. But what happened to you?” Nelanna gulped. She could never tell the truth, that she ran away. “I don’t recall,” she lied. “I only know that I was in bed, then I woke in a forest. I could not find my way back home.” Iselora raised a brow, looking baffled, “How odd. I would not be surprised if someone was pulling some cruel prank on us.” She smiled again and took a step back. In an instant she went from looking like a concerned mother to a professional business woman. “Well, the important thing is that you are well, and you are here with me now,” she took Nelanna’s hands in her own, a soft smile so warm that even Nelanna was nearly convinced. But this was her mother, Iselora Lockheart, master of deceit. Nelanna could not afford to believe a word she says, or a smile she offers.
Nelanna tried to regain her composure and straightened herself. “What are you doing here in Revaliir?” She asked.
“Your father and I made a new contract to expand the business further. But since our new partner is so far from our home, we have to build our new headquarters someplace closer. So, we moved here.” Nelanna’s heart dropped. “That’s… wonderful news,” she forced herself to smile. It was the hardest thing she had ever done. “It truly is,” her mother agreed. “Your father took it hard when you vanished. The business suffered because of it for so long. He will be overjoyed to learn that you are here.” She placed a hand on Nelanna’s cheek once more, her eyes ever so soft. “Nelanna, won’t you come home with us? Your father and I miss you so very much.” Nelanna’s breath halted at those words as images of her childhood came rushing back. How could her mother ask such a thing of her? Did she truly believe that her and her father’s actions were so in the right that Nelanna would ever wish to return? She knew going against her mother’s wishes was a dangerous game, but Nelanna was no longer playing alone.
She looked at Cecil for a second, summoning the courage to step towards him, and away from her mother. “I am sorry, mother. But I am a married woman now. My home is with Cecil.” She almost choked from fear as she spoke, holding herself tight around his arm for comfort, and protection. Iselora’s eyes flashed as she looked at Cecil, then they turned ice cold. She straightened herself, “I see. Well, if that is all, the it can be easily fixed.” Nelanna creased her brow, her fear replaced with anger, “Excuse me? You say that as if marrying him was some kind of mistake.” Her mother laughed, “Come now, dear. You cannot possibly believe that this lowly painter can give you the things you need, the best of everything.”
“I do not need wealth. All I want is happiness and love, something you and father never cared enough to give, “Nelanna retorted. The look of pure anger on her mother’s face warned her that she had gone too far, but it was too late to take it back. Her mother could say whatever she wished about Nelanna, but she would not tolerate anyone disrespecting Cecil. “I will have you know that Cecil is the child of Oberon, King of the Fae. He is not a lowly anything, and I will not allow you to treat him as such.”
“What kind of Prince soils his hands with paint?” Her mother laughed again. “Someone of royal blood would have no need to paint for money.”
“It is what he enjoys. It has nothing to do with money. I love him with every fiber of my being, and I fully support whatever makes him happy,” Nelanna took a defiant step closer to Iselora. Her eyes matched the hard glare her mother was giving her. “I can find you a noble man that you can love just as well and gives you so much more than this”— she looked over Cecil with disgust— “street beggar.” Nelanna could see Cecil getting puffed up. She placed a hand in front of him to hold him back. Then, she continued, “I could never love another man. Cecil gives me all I ever wanted. Love, warmth, a comforting home, a family.” She bit back anymore words, realizing she had revealed too much. But it was too late. Her mother narrowed her eyes at Nelanna, “What do you mean?”
Nelanna glanced at Cecil apologetically, regretful that this is how he finds out the news. “I am with child,” she replied to her mother. Iselora gasped and placed a hand over her heart with shock as if she had been struck. Then, her surprise was gone as soon as it came, replaced with fury. “Ungrateful child!” She shouted. “After all that your father and I have done for you, this is how you repay us?! You soil our name by standing at this man’s side, and now you have disgraced us by carrying his child!”
“I am a grown woman,” Nelanna snapped, placing her hands over her belly protectively. “I do not need you to tell me how to live my life! I can make decisions on my own.” Her mother snorted, hands balling into fists. “Just because you can, it does not mean that you should. Your father and I made your decisions for you to prevent you from making mistakes such as this.” Her eyes turned black, and Nelanna’s blood turned cold. She knew those eyes, the magic filled eyes of the feared Witch of the Lockheart Manor. “Sô as yaôu rëmar wëetch tchëes mád yaôu shall nh ôt sharrya hëes shhëeld,” the words were spoken in a language that her mother had never taught Nelanna, the language of their ancestors, the Ancient Elves.
As swiftly as it came, the black magic faded from her eyes, leaving nothing but cold a cruel blue. “You will not find the happiness you seek with this man. You will soon realize your mistake, and how much you truly need me.” With her venomous words spoken, Iselora turned and walked away. Nelanna did not know the meaning of her mother’s words, and that frightened her the most. She made an enemy out of her mother, made her use magic. What did her mother do to her? The ground seemed to sway under her feet, and she collapsed. Her entire body trembled with fear, unsteady arms barely holding her up as she stared at her hands wide eyed.
“What have I done?”