Chapter 20: Chapter 20

KAMORA

When Kamora left, Lord Maroke found himself lost in thought, pondering how to dispel the suffocating atmosphere that had enveloped him and his son.

Obliviously tapping his fingers beside him, he watched the play with a rapt attention he hadn’t displayed while Kamora was still with them.

“Why did you suddenly want to take me out?” Jarosh asked, breaking the tense silence.

Lord Maroke paused his fingers and turned to look at his son.

“I heard you caused quite a fuss about wanting to see me.”

“That was weeks ago.”

“Well, I decided to honor your request now,” Lord Maroke said, nodding.

“Isn’t it a bit late for that?” Jarosh asked, eyeing his father suspiciously.

At that moment, Lord Maroke realized that his son was more astute than he had given him credit for.

The suspicion in Jarosh’s gaze sent a shiver down his spine, an unfamiliar sensation.

“Come on, tell me. What’s your real purpose?” Jarosh leaned closer. “Do you perhaps have feelings for Kamora? Are you courting her?”

“You know that’s impossible!” Lord Maroke denied, though his voice wavered.

Jarosh frowned.

“In that case, why did you want to come out with us? You could have just talked to me back at the manor.”

“Would you have wanted that?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Jarosh said, shrugging.

“All I’ve ever wanted is to spend time with you,” he said, looking away and focusing on the parade on the stage.

The crowd had steadily grown, with most of the audience seats already taken.

“I’m sorry,” Lord Maroke suddenly admitted, startling his son.

Jarosh regarded him as if he had grown a second head.

“What?”

“I’m sorry for making you grow up so quickly,” Lord Maroke continued. “For leaving you alone and causing you to mature at such a young age. It’s my fault. Kamora was right. I neglected you, and I apologize.”

Jarosh remained silent, his face flushed.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Lord Maroke assured him.

“I just hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

Jarosh contemplated silently.

“Are you sure there’s nothing more to it?”

“There’s nothing more,” Lord Maroke quickly asserted, nodding.

A feeling of guilt, accompanied by a familiar ache, crept up in his chest.

He wasn’t ready to reveal to Jarosh that Kamora was his real mother yet, as it might put both of them at risk.

He needed to find the cause of the ordeal they were facing first.

“Father, what kind of powers did Mother possess?”

The question made Lord Maroke’s heart lurch, and he squeezed his fist to steady himself.

“I can’t remember her,” he confessed.

Jarosh didn’t seem surprised.

“Do you have any mementos of her? Anything that belonged to her?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t know where I put it,” Lord Maroke said.

“Because you lost your memories?” Jarosh asked, and Lord Maroke nodded.

“Maybe Kamora or Greyson can help you find it. Don’t you ever wonder what she was like, what she smelled like?”

~I know what she looks like, and she’s the most beautiful thing ever~, Lord Maroke thought.

Suddenly, a sharp pain pierced his heart, and he let out a soft groan, placing his hand on his chest.

“Father, are you okay?” Jarosh asked, concerned.

“I’m fine,” Lord Maroke said, waving his unoccupied hand.

“I’ve seen a healer, and I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

Jarosh stared at him, a frown still etched on his face, but he remained silent.

“I’ll consider your advice,” Lord Maroke said. “For now, let’s enjoy the show.”

“Why have I never seen you fly before?” Jarosh asked, changing the topic.

“I fly all the time,” Lord Maroke answered. “You’ve just never seen me make my entrance.”

“Who else has seen you?”

“Greyson, Claudia.”

“Oh,” Jarosh said simply.

Before Lord Maroke could ask him to explain, Kamora returned with a bag of snacks.

“How’s the show been so far?” she asked.

Lord Maroke’s gaze locked onto her face, and he found himself unable to look away.

The thought he’d had about her just a few minutes ago flooded his mind.

His wife, Kamora, was undeniably beautiful.

Even though he had only recently learned of her as his wife, the intense attraction he felt for her had doubled in just a few days. It was almost unnatural.

She bowed in front of him and extended her hand to offer him a wrapped paper sheet.

Perplexed, he accepted it and found a few sweets inside.

“I didn’t know what to get for you, my lord,” she said, scratching the back of her head. “So I settled for this.”

Lord Maroke glanced at the sweets, then at her.

“Thank you,” he said.

Her eyes widened for a split second, brows lifting in surprise.

A pink hue crept up her cheeks as she quickly dipped her head in a nod.

Without a word, she extended the small bag of cookies to Jarosh. Her fingers brushed his for the briefest moment before she pulled her hand back.

After Jarosh thanked her, Kamora sat up straight and faced the stage.

Lord Maroke’s attention remained fixed on her.

Her hands fidgeted on her lap, and though she watched the play, her thoughts seemed elsewhere.

“Are you okay?” he asked, drawing the attention of both Kamora and Jarosh.

“My lord?”

“You seem shaken. Is something wrong?”

Jarosh turned to her, worry on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

Kamora smiled briefly.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

At that moment, Lord Maroke was grateful for his ability to recognize true feelings.

He could tell instantly that she was lying.

Kamora, since they started talking, had never lied to him.

***

At the end of the stage play, they all stood up and started heading back toward their carriage.

Jarosh, Kamora, and Lord Maroke rose from their seats, blending into the departing crowd.

Jarosh hummed a familiar melody under his breath, his voice soft but steady.

Kamora walked beside him, her smile strained and her brows faintly furrowed.

Lord Maroke noticed.

He stepped closer and gently tapped her shoulder.

Kamora flinched.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low.

She looked at him, forcing a smile, and nodded.

“I’m fine.”

But the way she avoided his gaze said otherwise.

Unease settled in his chest.

He didn’t understand her reason for lying. She was in a happy mood when she left. What had happened between now and then?

Then it clicked.

The woman Kamora mentioned earlier—a supposed sister waiting in the Goddess’s grove.

Had she met her?

If so, what had been said?

His steps slowed.

Jarosh and Kamora moved ahead.

“You guys go on to the carriage,” he said, stopping.

Jarosh and Kamora turned back, both confused.

“Aren’t you coming home with us?” his son asked.

“I am,” he replied. “But there’s something I need to check out. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

Kamora’s frown deepened. Her eyes searched his, wary, but she gave a reluctant nod.

“Okay, my lord. I’ll take Jarosh with me.”

He watched them as they continued toward the carriage. Once they were far enough away, he turned around and retraced his steps.

If this woman was truly Kamora’s sister, she might know why Kamora had lost her memories. But if she was a fraud, he needed to determine her motives.

Kamora had mentioned his lack of experience in dealing with commoners. He scanned the area, searching for a woman with long green hair, as Kamora had described.

Just when he was about to give up, he noticed movement to his left and saw a woman running away. She had green hair.

He quickened his pace, silently following her as she seemed unaware of his presence. She led him to a hidden part of the grove, and something about the place made his skin crawl.

Reluctant to venture further, he called out to her.

“Excuse me, may I have your attention?”

The woman stopped and turned around with a gasp, her eyes wide with fear and another emotion he couldn’t quite identify.

Lord Maroke approached her, closely studying her features. As Kamora had described, her hair was long and green, and vines crawled up her arms.

There was something oddly familiar about her, and so he asked, “Have we met before?”

Her eyes widened further.

“You remember me?”

It was meant to be a whisper, but he heard it quite well.

“Do you know me?” he asked.

“I—I am the sister of your late wife,” she said.

He noticed her use of the word “late’ and grew even more puzzled. She knew Kamora was alive, so was she trying to keep him from knowing the truth? And if so, why?

“Really?” he inquired, feigning ignorance. “How is it that I’ve never seen you before?”

“I’ve wondered the same thing all these years. But then I realized you had no knowledge of me either,” she said, growing bolder.

“You call her late,” he continued, probing. “What does that mean?”

Her expression tightened, and she became angry.

“My sister is dead,” she cried. “I haven’t seen her in years.”

“That doesn’t mean she is dead.”

“One doesn’t simply leave her family and disappear, especially not her own child. Why would she abandon her child?”

Lord Maroke felt increasingly suspicious of the woman claiming to be Kamora’s sister. She had said he had forgotten her, and then claimed he had no knowledge of her.

If what she said was true, in what form had she appeared to him then?

“I was hoping to ask you the same thing,” he said, scrutinizing her closely. “You call yourself my wife’s sister, yet this is the first time I’ve heard of you. You never came to find me when news of her disappearance spread. Why is that?”

Her gaze darted around. Sweat glistened on her brow. The vines on her arms twitched nervously.

“Why are you looking for me?” she suddenly asked. “Did you follow me all this way just to ask these questions?”

Lord Maroke didn’t want her to know he remembered Kamora as his wife. He said, “What did you tell my maid? She returned looking pale.”

The blood drained from the woman’s face, and her eyes widened in horror.

“W-what do you mean?”

“I know you spoke with her,” he continued. “Why?”

“Nothing!” she exclaimed too quickly. “I just thought she looked familiar, and she asked for my help getting some snacks.”

She looked around, possibly seeking an escape.

“Please, if you have nothing more to say, could you leave?”

He stared at her for a moment, then bowed and left.

As he made his way back to the carriage, several thoughts raced through his mind. This woman knew who his wife was but didn’t want him to know.

He needed to find out her reason, along with the form she had taken when she came to see him. From what she said, she had met him before, yet he had never bothered to inquire about her.

He also had to ask Greyson if he ever made mention of Kamora having a family, and if yes, why they hadn’t bothered to reach out to him all these years.

One thing was clear, though; this woman couldn’t be trusted.