Mated To The Cruel Prince
Chapter 252: What are you running from?

Chapter 252: What are you running from?

"There you are!" Someone exclaimed from behind, drawing Issac’s attention and it was no other than Oma, his mother, "I have been looking for you all over, son. For a moment there, I feared that you might have taken off without a word like the last time,"

A flash of guilt cut across Issac’s expression while watching her climb the final steep set of stairs that opened into the antic. It was pitch dark, but Fae had perfect eyesight, however, his mother turned on the Fae light when she came in, standing in the middle of the cramped space with her arms akimbo.

"Good thing that I clean out the attic regularly, otherwise you would have coughed your lungs out from the dust, don’t you think so?" Oma stated sweetly, yet her accusing gaze bored into his and Issac knew why.

The attic had been handed over to him years back when his father was still alive and it was his duty to oversee that the place was taken care of, however, he left that to his mother without a word of thanks.

He blushed with shame, saying meekly, "I’m sorry, mother. It wouldn’t happen again. I will clean thoroughly before I leave this time."

However, she waved it aside and said, "Don’t worry, you don’t have to do anything. It’s just that you seemed so nonchalant and ungrateful lately, that I decided to jolt your memory a bit."

"Trust me, Mother, I’m grateful for the help," Isaac gave her a small smile before scooting over, so she sat down on the bench with him, the both of them staring out the attic window in comfortable silence.

The attic was filled with boxes of his stuff from childhood, especially old clothes, books, and toys. Although he could tell that Kayla added her own things to the collection and had no problem with that – as long as she didn’t make a mess of the place. Issac loved cleanliness.

"I was thinking, maybe we can give out some of my things to the less privileged Fae or half-breeds. The orphanarium would have much better use for it. Also, it’s not like they’re precious heirloom that I could pass on to my children." Issac suggested the idea and his mother nodded in approval, pride evident in her eyes.

"Your sister and I have been thinking the same thing lately, but we couldn’t do a thing without your consent. However, now you’ve said it, we’d sort out your things, and give them out. Although we would still preserve a bit of your childhood in case you feel nostalgic and the need to connect to the past one day. Our kind lives for so long that in a bid to preserve our sanity, we filter out the unexciting memories and hold on to the precious ones." She reminded him.

Issac placed his palm on top of his mother’s hand resting on her knee and squeezed with adoration in his eyes. He has been with the royals long enough to know that not all high Fae females were maternal, most of them considering the trait humanely. He was proud of his strong mother and for all her hard work since their father’s demise.

Mother and son fell into silence once more, but Issac could sense the shift and the question hanging in the air between them and hoped she wouldn’t ask.

But she did ask.

"Is there something going on between you and Anya that I need to know?" She inquired from him, feeling her intense perusal, coaxing him to open up.

Issac opened his mouth to tell the truth but his tongue remained paralyzed and he ended up saying, "No."

A flicker of disappointment crossed her mother’s face but Oma quickly schooled her expression and attempted to persuade him once more, saying, "Are you sure? I can’t help but feel like the dynamic between the both of you changed and Anya did not seem so happy when she left the house earlier."

Issac’s lips pressed into a thin line, his resolve hardening.

"Son," She was the one taking his hand and intertwining it with hers this time, "You know you can tell me anything, I would not judge."

They stared into each other’s eyes for a fraction of a time before Issac shook his head and put on an assuring smile, "You don’t need to worry about a thing, Mother, it’s nothing that I cannot solve. Friends fight from time to time and it’s perfectly normal."

The long look his mother gave him was all the indication that she didn’t believe a word. He could not lie and deflected his questions instead. Issac did not blame her anyway, his mother had seen them fight over the years and it was nothing like this one. Moreover, Issac always the blame in most of their fights so as not to upset Anya. But not anymore.

What Anya did to him was unforgivable, especially with the fact she showed no remorse and Issac was determined to cut off all ties with her. But he could not

rush it and would commence slowly. His ties with the family were too deep to be severed in one move. Perhaps, the next time he might open up to his mother and tell her the truth.

Oma opened her mouth to speak and Issac feared that she might pursue the matter only for her to shrug, "If you say so then."

Issac let out a sigh of relief, slightly relaxing, and just when he never expected it, she started another round of interrogation.

"So tell me, how is it working for the dark prince? I was told that your life was over once you got appointed by King Oberon to serve Prince Aldric. You would not realize how many tears Kayla shed, thinking she had lost you. Also, why are you here? Surely, the dark prince wasn’t kind enough to give you a break?" She bombarded him with questions.

Issac’s jaw dropped to the ground, stunned. Where was he going to start from? As if that was not enough, she added at the last minute," I’m your mother, Issac and know you like the back of my hand. Tell me, what are you running from?"

At once, Issac swallowed a huge lump that formed in his throat, hiding the fear in his eyes. He couldn’t tell his mother that he made a mistake that could cost their lives. He knew his mother, Oma, that would cause her anxiety and she might go as far as meeting Aldric to come up with a solution.

He couldn’t let that happen.