Chapter 81: Memories and home
I settle into the carriage, the gentle rocking of the wheels beneath me sparking a memory I haven’t thought about in years. My fingers drum idly against the seat, and the faces of the present begin to blur.
-16 years ago-
The fabric of my new clothes feels stiff, scratchy against my skin, a constant reminder of how out of place I am. The fine embroidery, the soft material—it doesn’t suit me. I’ve never worn anything like this before. Celia insisted, though. She always does.
I glance over at her, sitting across from me in the carriage, dressed in her finest jewelry and perfume. The scent is overpowering, thick and cloying, suffocating the air inside the small cabin. Her raven hair is styled perfectly, not a strand out of place. Her blue eyes, though, are as lifeless as ever, staring blankly ahead. They never seem to change.
The men in the alleys always said she was the most beautiful. They fawned over her. I never saw it. Not really.
I look out the window, watching the city blur past, the narrow streets and familiar dirt fading as we make our way into unfamiliar territory. We don’t talk much, Celia and I. Our relationship isn’t like other mothers and sons. But then again, nothing is normal when you grow up in the back alleys.
Soon, the carriage pulls up to the front of a grand manor, larger than anything I’ve ever seen. I don’t move immediately, still processing the sight before me. Celia gets out first, and for a moment, I feel her warm, soft hand wrap around mine, pulling me out of my trance.
It’s startling, the contact. I can’t remember the last time she held my hand. My own is rough, cold from years spent in the streets, while hers is soft, manicured. The difference is jarring, but I hold on, because despite everything, she’s the only familiar thing in this place.
We walk together toward the gates. I hear her exchange words with the guards, though the sound of her voice barely registers. My mind is elsewhere, focused on the warmth of her hand in mine, the strange, fleeting comfort it brings. Soon, we’re being led through the halls of the manor, and everything around us is overwhelming. The space feels impossibly large, the ceilings too high, the floors too polished. I can’t help but squeeze her hand a little tighter.