Page 11 of Dawn of Hope

“There isn’t anything that happens with books in this castle that I am unaware of.” I gape at him as he sits in the chair across from me, as he has done every day for years.

After a few beats of silence, I finally find words. “I read them to escape. It’s nice to live in someone else’s head for a little while.”

Despite the initial discomfort of him knowing what I am reading, it is fairly normal for me to be this open with Edmond. If Tila is like a mother figure, then Edmond is like my grandfather, one I am very close to. Just as Tila has been there my entire childhood, so has Edmond. My father assigned people to look after me as a child, and they have remained unchanged all this time. Brynne is actually the newest, and she has already been around for years.

But Edmond is more than just my tutor. He is a confidant, someone I spend my days with and who knows me better than anyone else, even Brynne. It doesn’t bother me he is at least three times my age. I know he loves me and cares for me, as if I am his own family, his own daughter. For all I know, he considers me as such, because he has no family of his own.

“Despite the…vivid imagery I am sure are in the books you and Tila read, we can learn a lot from stories if we pay attention.” I chortle at his insinuation, despite knowing he is completely right. “Is that the lesson that you want to have this morning?”

“I thought we had to go over things for the ceremony?”

“That can wait until later.” He rests his face on his hand, leaning on the armchair as he often does when he gets ready to lecture, and gazes at me through squinted eyes.

“What?” I squirm in my chair at the intensity. Just like any fatherfigure, he can instantly make me feel like a child who did something wrong, though with Edmond, nothing I do has or will ever make him mad at me. In my younger years, I definitely tried. No matter what I did, instead of resorting to anger or punishment, he instead instantly taught a lesson from my behavior, turning a negative experience into a positive one.

“I’m just trying to remember if I’ve told you this story before. It’s one I used to tell my son. Even so, if you’ve already heard it, let’s just pretend it is the first time. Understood?”

My jaw drops at his words.

Son?

“I’m sorry, your son? You have a son?” His eyes mist at my question and an emotion that I’ve ever seen crosses his face. Longing? Nostalgia? I can’t quite tell.

“Yes, I have a son. He’s been gone for quite some time now.”

Is this why Edmond never brings up his family? I assume his son died, but how? What happened? It must have been before I was born, or at least a few years after, because I have no recollection of Edmond ever having any family at all.

I can see the sadness and love in his eyes at bringing up his son, and I want to ask more, but I don’t want to hurt him. In twenty years, this is the first he’s ever trusted me with this information. I want him to know I care, but don’t want to make his sharing more difficult than it already is.

I pick at a seam in my simple, deep green wool gown as I contemplate my choice of words before uttering them slowly. “Why have you never mentioned him before?”

He raises a hand to his face, his fingers covering his lips as he thinks before answering. “As I’m sure you know, some things are difficult to think about, let alone talk about. But they still live with us every day. We do not forget.”

I shrink back slightly at his words. He’s right. People live every day with things that are hard to think about. Edmond is finally giving me a glimpse into his, and we both know I have mine.

I swallow before I speak again. “I’m sorry for whatever happened. Tell me the story? Please?”

I’ve spent almost every day of my life with Edmond, and he can’t remember if he had told me a story he used to tell his son. If he hadn’t, it might have been over twenty years since he had told anyone this story. I don’t want to rush him, especially since it might bring up more memories, making what was supposed to be a typical morning of lessons a difficult one.

He shifts and lowers his hand to his lap, intertwining his fingers, but staying silent. After a few moments, he clears his throat and begins.

“It is not just the kingdom of Blackwood that exists in this world. As you know from the countless lessons of geography we have covered through the years, as well as the inter kingdom affairs and politics, there are neighboring kingdoms on this continent, and afar. Blackwood, as a whole, is a rich kingdom, filled with skilled craftsmen, and raw goods to trade or sell to other kingdoms. The natural wealth of the land provides us with jobs to support our people, to ensure that our citizens can live comfortably and care for their families. While this is the reality for Blackwood, not all others within our reach are as successful, and as such, are not immune to suffering, disease, and death.”

This is not the type of story I was expecting. When he spoke of a story he told his son, I expected more lighthearted words, not something that sounded like it is being quoted directly from the books we study.

I expected something with a plot and hidden meaning, something he would make me pull a lesson from. I do not know where he is heading, and after last night, I don’t know if I can handle a story about death and suffering. I shift uncomfortably in the chair and wait for him to continue.

He presses on. “Despite the advances in medicines and healing that many kingdoms, ours included, have benefited from, there are still many ailments or illnesses that cannot be treated. Many of which cannot be explained. Families and friends are forced to watch their loved one sufferwith no hope of survival. It is only natural that they yearn for answers, from medicines and healers…or elsewhere.”

I swallow the lump in my throat that formed after his words.

Cannot be explained.

This story is hitting too close to my heart after everything I dealt with last night.

Our healers have no explanation for her majesty’s lack of decline in her state.

Is this the reason Edmond brings up the story today of all days? He hasn’t for almost twenty-one years, but suddenly he deems it so important that we need to push off preparing for the ceremony so I can hear it. How much does Edmond know about my mother’s health?