That night, Daria found her mother already in her room. She knocked on the door lightly before entering. Veronique Ainsley was getting ready for bed. She was already wearing a long gray nightgown. Her hair, which had spent the day in a tight bun, now formed a loose braid that fell over her left shoulder. Her mother's room was much larger than Daria's and was in the tutors' wing. Next to a small table, the room had a wall of mirrors and an iron bar, like a dance studio. Every morning Veronique warmed up and did exercises to keep in shape.

- Daria, dear. Goodnight.

- Mama - greeted the daughter.

- What are you doing here so late? - asked the mother, hurrying to pour each of them a cup of tea.

- I'm not sleepy, I thought we could read something together - Daria said.

- Of course, dear. Drink this fennel tea, which will help you sleep.

It was so weird taking lessons from her mother. Especially when her mother was such a strict tutor. Daria missed the intimacy they shared when they were alone. She drank some tea and relaxed her posture in the chair, waiting for the moment when Veronique would certainly correct her.

- Have you heard from Aydan, Mama?

- Ah yes. I received a letter from your brother this morning. Everything goes well.

They talked about family and the cold weather in Shailaja, until a comment from her mother surprised her.

- You didn't do bad at all today in your singing lesson, Daria.

- Uh... Thank you?

- Of course, you can still improve...

Daria didn't see how she could improve any further. She was a terrible singer, she missed the notes, her throat hurt when she sang, she couldn't maintain her posture or pretend any emotion. The only reason it hadn't been a total disaster was that her mother had forced her to practice tirelessly over the summer. But now she felt she had reached the limit of her abilities.

While they were on that subject, Daria remembered Miss Maël and how her mother had been strangely benevolent to the rani.

- Mama, why did you release Hannah Maël today from the lesson? - asked Daria.

- I didn't release her. She refused to participate in the lesson, my daughter.

- Was it just for that? I thought you would insist more...

The mother took another sip of tea and said: - I would have insisted... But I didn't have the courage.

- Courage, Mama?

- Even I have limits, Daria.

- Do you believe that she does not know how to dance or sing? I heard that her mother was a great dancer...

- She was raised on a farm, where would she learn?

Daria thought the matter was closed. She picked up a book, draped a blanket over her legs, and began to read, but she didn't get past the first page until she heard her mother's low voice. Veronique was still holding the cup of tea, but it seemed to be forgotten between her fingers. She was staring at the strange dance of the flames that burned in the fireplace.

- When I was just a silly girl, I was here in Shailaja like you, daughter... Merab was a year ahead... I was honored to see her in top form.

- Merab? Mama, who is Merab?

- Merab became the Rana of Palatials... She was Hannah's mother.

Daria widened her eyes and closed the book.

- Did you meet her? – she whispered.

- Ah, yes. We danced a lot together. She was the best dancer in Shailaja. I was nothing compared to her, Daria... All I achieved was with so much effort, endless training, I danced until midnight to be the best and... It was useless.

- Useless?

- I would never be the best as long as Merab wanted to dance... Her movements came naturally. She didn't have to train for hours. And even if I achieved all this mastery, something would be missing...

- What?

- Passion...

Daria stood up when she saw a tear trickle down her mother's cheek. She approached and sat down in front of her, not knowing how to act. Her mother was a cold, tough woman. She always asked for etiquette, control, discipline. Daria had never seen her cry.

- Daria, I was born to be a tutor – She smiled through her tears. – I know all the correct steps, I know how to pass on my knowledge and I love to see my students progress. But I've never seen talent like the palatial ones. I've never seen such passion for dancing, such ability to express emotion... I see the girls I teach and, in the end, most of them are mediocre. They want to learn a song or two to entertain their future husbands while they drink and play cards. They want to waltz properly so they can dance at balls. They are not artists, they have no love for music, or for dancing, there is no talent.

- Mama, but you do everything you can...

- It does not matter! Does not matter! - Her mother's expression was tormented, her eyes glowed wide, and Veronique gripped Daria's wrists tightly as she asked: - Daria, do you know what's like to see a performance so beautiful it takes your breath away? Do you know what it is to cry with emotion when listening to a song? So, it was like that with Merab. She made us feel... Feel sadness, joy, anguish...

- Did you hate her, Mama? - asked Daria, pitying her mother.

- Hated her? No! I loved her, Daria! It was a privilege to be by her side! - Veronique now spoke with ardor and the tears flowed in abundance. - It was impossible not to love the palatials. They were pure energy, pure joy. Every month, they prepared a big party on the beach. Even in the coldest months, they built a fire, played music, danced with their feet in the sand. They turned any place into a party. Even Shailaja... Shailaja was another place when the palatials were here... Merab... Merab was a great friend to me, Daria.

- Mama, what are you saying? – Daria was startled by those words. She had never heard anything about that.

- We were friends. She didn't hesitate to teach me. Even though I was younger, she reached out to me... She taught me rhythms and steps that only existed in her land... She was good, Daria, she was sweet, intelligent...

- But, mama, you always said that the Rana Maël was a heretic... That she said she had visions of the future, that she was crazy...

- Because I'm a traitor, Daria! That's what I became! - cried Veronique, her pale skin turning redder and redder.

- Mama, calm down... Please calm down - Daria urged, getting up to hug her.

Daria rested her mother's head on her chest and ran her hands through the gray hair. She was nervous, she had never seen her mother so upset.

- She warned me that this would happen... Merab knew everything - continued Veronique in a whisper.

- Mama, you can't believe in these things...

- How not to believe, Daria? - Veronique questioned, taking her hands firmly: - She knew everything! Before it happened, she told me. She sent me a letter...a horrible letter, breaking our friendship, saying that I was a conservative, that I considered her a heretic, that she... - The mother let out a sob. - And that's why we're alive, did you know? Did you know? This letter is the proof that let us live! Because she took every precaution!

Daria didn't know what to say. She held her mother's hands tightly and felt her whole body tremble.

- Now, I see this girl...this poor girl, lacking in confidence...I feel so guilty, Daria. So guilty.

- Mama, you can help her... You can teach her...

- What she told me today... It broke my heart. What did they do to her, what this girl went through...

- What did she say? - whispered Daria.

A knock at the door startled them. It was her mother's maid to collect the tea. Veronique composed herself, discreetly wiping her tears.

- Ah, Amara... I'm glad you arrived. It's late, we hadn't even noticed... - The mother got up. - Please call a guard to escort Daria to her room.

- But, Mama...

- It's late, Daria - Veronique kissed her forehead. Her expression was softer, but her eyes were still sad.

~*~

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Ps: I am a brazilian author and a dear friend is helping me translate this book. Please feel free to point out any mistakes. Hope you like it!