Free Earth Borne by Rachael Slate Page A

against the dryness of his throat. How he missed her.
    A soft weight fell upon his arm. Kalliste.
    “Your father helped me with the likeness,” she murmured. “Everyone spoke so highly of her. I know how much she meant to you. I wish I’d met her.”
    He cocked his head at her. She did this for him? She’d erected a monument to his beloved mother? Why did she constantly challenge his beliefs about her? He’d deemed Kalliste so cold for never caring a damn about his family.
    He wasn’t wrong in his assumptions. Hell, she’d refused to meet any of his siblings.
    Where had this newfound appreciation for his kin come from? Was it because of Lucian? Too much contradiction beclouded her. He was losing the ability to tell up from down. There was something to be said for people changing, but it was as though she was an entirely different lass.
    Well, he almost chuckled, except when she’d called him a brute. That was spot-on.

Chapter 9

    Melita studied Thereus while he stared at the statue. Why did she show it to him? More importantly, why had she told him she’d commissioned the fountain? She should’ve shrugged it off as an impulse of devotion by the villagers.
    Often she found herself sitting on the edge of the fountain. The Queen’s kind smile soothed her. She pretended Atalante was her mother.
    Thereus had no idea how fortunate he was. How his family cherished him. She’d erected the statue as much for herself as for him, hoping to borrow some affection.
    Lucian ran up and grabbed her skirts, laughing as he spun her around. With a cry, he scurried off once more, splashing into the fountain.
    Beside her, Thereus chuckled heartily. “He certainly has spirit, doesn’t he?”
    “You have no idea.” As his features darkened, she bit her tongue. She shouldn’t have spoken those words, shouldn’t have reminded him of his absence in Lucian’s life.
    “Come, Kalliste, what would you like to show me first?” To his credit, he changed the subject to smooth the awkwardness, offering his arm. Tentatively, she placed her hand on his forearm.
    “Lucian!” she called over her shoulder as she led Thereus into one of the town’s shoppes.
    “Lady Kalliste!” The shopkeeper whirled around from his display.
    “Good morning, Dupon.” She flashed him a warm smile. The corners of his mouth lifted, but froze as he caught sight of Thereus. “May I present my husband, Lord—”
    “I know who he is,” Dupon whispered shakily. “My Lord.” He dipped into an overly eager bow.
    “Aye, and I remember you too.” Thereus inclined his head. “I’m not surprised your shoppe is flourishing. It must be the most popular store in the village.” He strode to the trembling shopkeeper and offered his hand.
    Dupon’s shoulders relaxed immediately. He returned the smile as he grasped Thereus’s hand. “Milord, if I do recall…” He stepped to a glass jar on the shelf to their right. Removing a sweet, he presented it to Thereus. “This is your favorite.” Dupon beamed as his Lord accepted the offering.
    “Candied honeysuckle.” Thereus laughed and shook his head. “I’ve not tasted this in years.” He placed the delicate morsel on his tongue and Melita did not miss the flash of hunger in his eyes as his admiration swept over her.
    Instead of indulging, she diverted her energy to Lucian while Thereus talked with Dupon. His subject prattled about his merchandise. She swung her son, in human form, onto her hip, readying to depart.
    Before joining her, Thereus withdrew a bulging satchel of coins from his vest and placed the entirety on the shopkeeper’s counter. With a wave, he was out the door.
    Melita scowled. She was torn between being as in awe of his generosity as Dupon was, and hating him for deeming to purchase loyalty. A deeper, more reasonable part of her poked at her, whispering she was simply jealous.
    A bakery, a sweet shoppe, a tailor and a seamstress, a blacksmith, a taverna. The list went on and on. They