Acelin’s P.O.V

I rasped my knuckles on the mahogany double doors that guarded my mother’s parlor. The sound of the knock reverberated through the empty hallways and I took a minute to admire the woodwork while I waited on my mother to answer. Truly, there was none other like Michelangelo.

“You called, mother?” I opened the door after I had permission to come in.

“Filii amica mea!” (My darling son) My mother opened her arms for me with a gorgeous smile. “Come here!”

“Salve mater,” (Hello mother) I went into her arms with a smile. “How have you been?”

“Good, good,” she caressed my cheeks like I was still her...