endearment. She never asked him if he loved her. It was assumed. Of course he loved her. She was his world.
“You’re young,” she continued in her soft voice. “Probably too young to understand what I have to tell you, but I need you to understand.”
Aden nodded, more alarmed than ever when he saw the tears blurring his mother’s blue eyes.
“Your father . . . ” She looked away, then down at their joined hands, brown against white. “He’s given me a command. You’re big for your age, much bigger than the other boys. Someday you’ll be a big man, like my father and brothers, and I hope the fates are kinder to you than they were to them. But, Aden . . . ” She sighed, still refusing to look at him directly. “I must choose. I can take you and leave the harem—”
Aden’s heart swelled with excitement.
“—to become a common slave in some other household, or I can stay here as your father’s favorite for as long as my beauty lasts—which is many years yet—and then perhaps become matron to the harem and serve him that way.”
Aden frowned in confusion. Surely it would be better for them to remain here? Why should there be any question?
“But if I remain, then you must go.” She lifted her head at last, and Aden saw her decision in the sadness of her eyes. “You will leave tonight to begin serving your new master.”
Aden stared, not quite understanding what she was telling him. A new master? But… “When will I see you, Mama?”
“You won’t,” she said, firming her lips. “It is not unlike the fostering that my people used to do. Children were often sent to live with families far away, never seeing their parents again until they were grown.”
“Will I see you when I am grown?”
“Perhaps.”
Aden was no longer a baby. He knew what perhaps meant. He swallowed the knot in his throat and stood, pulling his fingers from his mother’s soft grasp. Apparently, he’d gotten more than size from his Scotsman grandfather. He had his pride. She had chosen her master over her own flesh and blood. So be it.
“ Insha’Allah , we will meet again,” he said simply.
His mother glanced up at him in surprise. But whether it was due to the casting of his fate to Allah rather than the Christian god of her youth, or his quiet acceptance of her decision, he didn’t know. He didn’t care. All that mattered now was that he’d been sold, that he’d wake up tomorrow in a new household. He would no longer be the bastard son of anyone, whether rich or poor. He would be only a boy, a slave with no friends in the world.
Aden turned and left the way he’d come, taking the slaves’ hallways, which was only appropriate, since that’s all he was now. A slave.
Chicago, IL, present day
“SHALL I COME with you, my lord?”
Bastien’s question brought Aden back to the present with a jolt. He’d never seen his mother again after that day. He hadn’t even thought about her in a very long time, and it didn’t please him that he was thinking about her now.
“Dresner’s not expecting a crowd,” he told Bastien. “And I’ll need an invitation into the house. Sidonie and I will go alone.”
“What if she recognizes you?” Sidonie asked, staring nervously at the brownstone they’d parked in front of. “She knows who you are.”
“I’ll stay to the shadows.”
“She has a porch light.”
Aden slanted a look at her. “Don’t concern yourself,” he said shortly. “Just get us in the door.”
“Fine. No need to get snippy about it.”
Aden reminded himself that he needed this woman to get close to Dresner, that Dresner was probably the one who’d betrayed him to Silas. He also promised himself that in the very near future, he would lay Sidonie Reid out on his bed and leave his mark on every inch of her pale skin. That alone made it worthwhile to put up with her disrespect.
The attitude was something he’d come to expect from modern women, something he didn’t consider to be