Arianna
“Come sit,” Mom says after Nate leaves.
My instincts tell me I should be fighting at his side. I reluctantly join my mother on the couch and fold my arms.
“I know you are frustrated and feel you should be fighting, too,” she says. “But right now, it’s best you don’t.”
“But I should be with him,” I say.
“You are with him,” she touches her neck. “Your mark gives him strength.”
“I should be fighting, though,” I argue.
“Arianna, we just lost your brother. We can’t afford to lose you too,” Mom points out. “Are you trained in fighting?”
“I had some training,” I respond.
“Some?” Mom nods. “Nathan is a highly trained warrior. I know you are strong but aren’t ready to fight.”
I feel slightly defeated at her words, but deep down, I know she is right.
‘Mother knows best,’ Elpis sp
