Free Tempered (A Daughters of the People Novel) (Daughters of the People Series) by Lucy Varna Page A

her to
finish reading the report Yvette had compiled. A twinge of hurt pricked at
Hawthorne’s heart. Rebecca had found love with her kindly husband after only a
thousand years of waiting. She’d submitted her will to his and had a beloved
son, Bobby, who had become a great warrior in his own right, following in the
footsteps of Rebecca’s several daughters, all much older than her son, and all
fierce Daughters.
    Hawthorne waited
still.
    After three nights
with Aaron Kesselman, she had thought herself close to finding her own
mortality. Of all the men she had known in her endless life, he had had the
most power over her. He had tempted her heart the most, beckoning it into love.
    Instead of
nurturing her nascent feelings, he had driven her to tears, something she had
not indulged in for centuries, not even upon the death of her youngest daughter
nearly four years before. She had almost trusted him, had even shared one of
her most precious secrets with him, only to have him value the opinion of his
former wife over Hawthorne’s word.
    She hardened her
heart against him, as she had done every moment since leaving DragonCon. Had
she not learned long ago that men could not be trusted?
    “Thank you for
taking care of this for me.” Rebecca flipped the last page of the report and
raised her gaze to Hawthorne’s. “I know it was an imposition, but I appreciate
the help.”
    “It was little bother,”
Hawthorne said, though that was a slight stretch of the truth. It had been no
bother to investigate. Having Aaron trample her heart, however, had been a
painful reminder of the reality of a Daughter’s life. “You need not worry any
longer that your past will be discovered.”
    Rebecca leaned
back in her chair and smiled. “You’ve added those two volumes to your vault, I
take it.”
    “They were mine
to begin with. Reclaiming them was a small matter.”
    “The
Chronicler,” Rebecca murmured. “Did you ever think all those years ago that
someone else would take your histories and develop them into fictional tales?”
    “It was never a
glimmer in my mind.” Hawthorne rose and waited politely while Rebecca did the
same. “If you should have need of my aid in the future, please do not hesitate
to call upon me.”
    “I shall.”
Rebecca smoothed back the wispy blonde strands of her hair. “Has your PI found
any connection between this Kesselman and the People?”
    “I have directed
him to report to you.” Hawthorne turned away, weary of hiding her pain from
those around her. “I have no wish to discuss this matter again.”
    “Of course.
Thank you for your help.”
    Hawthorne
ignored the curious note in Rebecca’s voice. “You are welcome. Well met,
Director.”
    “Well met, my
friend.”
    Hawthorne strode
out without looking back. She did not need to. The Blade’s regretful tone had
etched itself into Hawthorne’s mind, drawing upon the centuries of their
acquaintance to supply the head tilted with concern, the tired slump of the
other woman’s shoulders. A great weight rested on Rebecca, as it did upon all
of the Daughters who had assumed leadership positions among the People.
    As it did upon
Hawthorne, even in her nominal role as a respected elder.
    The weight of
years alone could drive anyone beyond repair. Such is what Aaron suspected in
her, though it was not true. Her mind was strong and capable enough, well able
to deal with the blows her long life had dealt. Her heart weakened her resolve,
that wretched organ of emotion and need, and drove her to actions she could
hardly credit, all on behalf of a man who had scorned her.
    While in California
reclaiming her volumes, her heart had pleaded with her until she had given in
and sought him out, watching him from afar as he had gone about his day. She
had snuck closer when he had claimed a table at a little café and brought out
his work, his stylus moving rapidly over the surface of a computerized tablet.
Though she had been across the street, well out of