Free The Surrender of a Lady by Tiffany Clare

reassurance.”
    What she didn’t voice was that she had thought her son wouldn’t be here when she arrived. How many days before coming here had she spent fretful and distraught that motherhood was but a distant memory? If her little angel hadn’t been here, she didn’t think she could continue to live. How could a mother let her child go when it was a forced, unnatural separation?
    She ran her fingers through the soft, fine hair on Jonathan’s head—she couldn’t stop touching him, savoring every single moment. His hair had grown so much and was a shade darker than she remembered, a rich brown so much like her own. The only thing he had of his father’s were his green eyes.
    She leaned in close and gave him another kiss on top of his head, then turned her cheek, resting it there as she rubbed her hand over his back. He still smelled the same, that calming baby smell she could never get enough of.
    Not an hour after all the excitement, Jonathan grew agitated and cried out his frustration, as babies are wont to do. She hitched him up on her shoulder, singing a lullaby as she patted his back and bottom waiting for him to fall asleep in her arms. Rocking him as he quieted, she lowered him to sleep more comfortably on her bosom.
    Laila still sat with her on the carpeted floor. A slave came forward as if to take Jonathan. Elena shook her head up at the woman, not ready to release her sleeping bundle. The only thing she needed was to hold him, to know without doubt he wasn’t lost.
    Laila sent the woman off after a few soft words spoken in Persian. Then she got up to retrieve a few bolsters to make it more comfortable for them on the floor. She also carried a small green blanket, obviously made for her son. Fresh tears stung at her eyes.
    “Thank you,” was all she could mutter to Laila.
    Slaves came in with silver trays laden with dried and fresh fruit, nuts, olives, and sesame flatbread. Her stomach growled as the tantalizing aroma hit her. She hadn’t been hungry until she saw the food spread out before her. Her mouth watered as she reached for the first tray and took some almonds. After eating a few she picked up a quartered chunk of pomegranate and let the bittersweet juice wash over her parched tongue. She’d only ever had pomegranate once before and she wasn’t sure it had tasted this good. She sucked at the seeds then chewed them. Laila ate with her in companionable silence, picking the seeds of her pomegranate from the skin, and popping them into her mouth individually.
    “They want to give you time with your son.” Laila motioned with her head to indicate the other women in the room. “We are all friends here. There is no place for resentments. Don’t think they are ignoring you.”
    “I didn’t think they were,” Elena replied, and picked up a slice of orange.
    They were her favorite, but costly. When was the last time she’d had this particular fruit? At her last soiree. Before she’d been forced into marriage with Robert. There’d been a platter of sliced oranges at that party. She put the whole slice in her mouth and savored the first sweet bursting taste as it sluiced over her tongue.
    They ate their fill in silence. Elena kept rubbing her hand soothingly over her son’s back, willing him to sleep the rest of the day. There was no better feeling than holding him again; to know they were both well and alive. When she had eaten as much as she could and drunk a strange yogurt concoction to wash it all down, she leaned back against the bolsters and closed her eyes.
    She and Jonathan snuggled up together at long last. Never again would she be separated from him. They were safe here. And she prayed that it would stay that way.
    Her neck was wet where Jonathan drooled, and she was uncomfortably sweaty as he slept sprawled across her chest. She yawned but couldn’t find it in her to sit up and move him. He belonged next to her like this.
    On opening her eyes, the first thing she noticed was how dark