I slept that night in my own bed, and my sleep was deep and dreamless. I awoke in the morning feeling totally refreshed and relaxed. For one brief instant I wondered if this were all a dream, but then I opened my eyes to the sight of sunlight streaming in through my windows and I knew it was real. I got up and went down to see what was for breakfast. Mother was in the small kitchen that adjoined the informal dining room, humming as she worked. We had servants, of course, but every now and then Mother liked to cook herself. She’d been raised in a family with plenty of nobility and not much money, and they hadn’t had servants, so she had learned how to cook, clean, sew, mend, and do all sorts of things that did not befit a lady of her stature. Generally she sat back and let the servants do things, but every now and then she insisted on doing something herself. She called those moments her “small rebellions,” and scandalized some of the more proper servants with them, but I’d always enjoyed the meals she cooked more, just because she cooked them.

“Good morning,” I said. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Sausage, eggs, and sourdough toast,” she replied with a smile. It was one of my favorite meals. “You know we’re going to be eating all your favorites for the next week or two.”

“I certainly don’t mind,” I said. Father and Chris came in a few minutes later and we all sat down and had breakfast. I kept pausing to take in the sheer ordinariness of the scene. I’d missed these simple moments more than I’d let myself know. I noticed the others, especially Mother, were likewise pausing to stare at me. I had a sudden image of how empty the table must have been with just the three of them around it.

As we were finishing, Father gestured in my direction with his fork and said, “We’re going to have to do something about that mark, and that hideous collar. Maybe you could come down to my workroom after breakfast?”

That reminded me that I still had one thing left to do before I settled back into home life. I’d found out what I’d needed so desperately to know and now I needed to tell my parents the truth about my abilities. It wouldn’t be easy. I knew they’d forgive me my deception, but I just couldn’t think of how to start. The best way, I decided, would be to show, not tell. “Before we do that, there’s something I need to show you,” I said. I’d take the easier out and just show Father. He could tell Mother afterward. “Could we take a walk out to the woods this morning?”

Dad looked puzzled, but he agreed. We strolled in silence for a while, just enjoying the beautiful summer day and each other’s company. After a while my father spoke. “Ashen, I want to apologize to you again. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t gotten so mad that day and chased you away…” I stopped him before he could go any further.

“It’s not your fault, Dad.”

“But…”

“No, you can’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault and it’s not mine. Blame those slavers, blame Lord Morren, but don’t blame yourself.”

“But I was the one that drove you off. And…” he hesitated, a tortured expression on his face, “I was at Lord Morren’s house only a couple months ago. If I’d only known somehow! I even asked him to help search for you. He agreed, the snake, with you locked up there the whole time.”

“I know,” I said.

“You know? Did Lord Morren tell you?”

I shook my head. “No.” I hesitated, not wanting to cause my father any more pain, but he was looking at me with questions burning in his eyes, so I continued, “You probably didn’t notice the servant Lord Morren summoned to get a drink. Nobody ever looks as slaves. I never used to. But that was me.”

My father’s face went pale. I could see he was torturing himself again with might-have-beens. “But why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.

I took a deep breath, remembering again that conversation, those seemingly damning words, that feeling of utter hopelessness. “Lord Morren is very good at manipulating people. Do you remember what you were talking about?”

“I was telling him about you, and then out of the blue he starts talking about thaumaturgic talismans and the danger of malfunctions, something like that. I was annoyed that he wanted to discuss something so trivial, but then afterward he changed the subject back to you. That’s when he agreed to help look for you. And you’d been right there not two minutes earlier! But what does that have to do with why you didn’t say anything?” His unfinished question hung in the air for a long moment before I answered it.

“’Better to have nothing at all than unusable potential,’” I quoted softly.

“Yes, that’s exactly what he said and…” he stopped and I could see the realization hit him. “And I agreed with him and then dismissed the whole thing as unimportant.”

I nodded sadly. “You can see how he convinced me that you thought I was unimportant, that you didn’t want me. Afterward he told me that you’d said you were better off without me. And I believed him. And,” I added, “That’s the reason behind why I’ve brought you here,” While we’d been talking we’d reached the grove of trees where I’d left my staff. “I have to confess I’ve deceived you about one thing. I’m sorry, but I had to be sure. I had to know for certain that you really wanted me, and not my magic.”

Father looked confused. “I do, of course I do,” he said. “But why…?” He let the question trail off, perhaps not knowing what to ask. I turned off of the road and led the way into the grove. I found the sapling, looking just like the others, without any difficulty.