Amaris' POV
"Farewell, Ms. Ford," I said as I waved my hand toward Kira, already seated in the back of the car. My voice was calm, polite as ever, but my chest felt heavy with an emotion I could not quite name. My time with her had been enjoyable—filled with joy, surprise… and something else. Something elusive, fluttering just beyond my comprehension. Whatever it was, today had etched itself into memory, and I knew it was a day I would cherish.
"Bye! See you at school, Amaris!" Kira called, her hand lifted high, her eyes curved in a smile that radiated warmth. That very warmth made something stir within me—an unsettling churn in my stomach. Like an alarm resonating through my body, vibrating in a rhythm I did not understand. 'What is this? Truly, I must research these feelings…' I thought as the driver eased the car forward, and soon, Kira disappeared from my view.
"Oh, Young Miss?" The driver's voice pulled me from my spiraling thoughts.
"Yes, Mr. Toya?" I tilted my head slightly, confused by his tone.
"The Mistress has asked for your presence in her quarters once we return to the estate," he informed respectfully, his tone soft yet unwavering.
I nodded, a small smile tugging at my lips. That was enough to convey my understanding. "Understood, thank you kindly."
The rest of the ride was silent, both of us lost in our own thoughts.
=================================
"Mother, I have arrived," I announced, knocking gently on the tall, ornate doors of my parents' quarters.
"Come in, dear," my mother's melodic, cheerful voice answered.
I slipped inside to see her seated gracefully on the broad velvet couch, a porcelain teacup resting in her hand. She looked elegant, as always, her expression gentle yet sharp, a balance she mastered perfectly.
"Take a seat, dear," she said warmly.
I obeyed without hesitation, smiling softly as I nearly speed-walked to her side. Composure, Amaris, composure. I sat down gracefully, folding my hands over my lap. Mother poured me tea, the delicate fragrance of lavender filling the air. I took a sip, and the familiar flavor spread over my tongue, grounding me.
After a moment of silence, she set her cup down and asked, "So, might you tell your mother about the boy you brought here earlier?"
Her tone was neither teasing nor judgmental—just curious.
I didn't flinch. "He is a friend of mine, Mother," I answered, meeting her gaze. My voice remained even, sincere. "I met him at work."
Her eyes softened, and she smiled. "I see."
Then, without warning, she leaned over and embraced me warmly.
"I am so proud of you, dear," she said with surprising fervor. "Not only do you have companions at school, you have also made a friend at work. How delightful!"
Her pride made me laugh softly, though I could not hide my awkwardness. "I was never that timid, Mother… merely a little shy," I corrected.
Then her words struck me belatedly. My eyes widened slightly. "Wait—you thought I could not make friends?"
Her body froze, and then came the telltale nervous laugh.
"Mother!" I exclaimed softly, half-offended, half-amused.
She gently pushed my shoulders, chuckling awkwardly. "Dear, forgive me! It is simply that your father and I know you so well." She wrung her hands dramatically. "And… well, we know you have little to no social skills!"
I gasped in mock horror, covering my mouth with a hand. "Mother!"
"It is true," she said matter-of-factly, holding my gaze. "Whenever we held balls here in the estate, you would either lock yourself away in your room, or hide in the farthest corner."
Each word she spoke felt like an arrow of truth. "Mother, please… it hurts," I mumbled, embarrassed.
She laughed, reaching out to pat my head affectionately. Despite my protests, warmth spread through my chest. I was already seventeen, yet her touch still soothed me.
"Oh! Dear," she suddenly exclaimed, her tone shifting. "Forgive me for asking this but… as your mother, I should know."
I blinked at her sudden intensity, unsure of her intent.
Then she gripped my shoulders firmly, locking eyes with me. "Do you have a crush?"
I froze. The question hit me like lightning. My mind reeled as images replayed themselves—Kira's smile, her laughter, her hand in mine. Lovely, radiant, kind Kira.
My chest jolted. Panic flared. No, this is wrong. Or was it?
Kira is my friend. Loving your friends is normal. Platonic love—that is all it is. Yes, that must be true. I love my friends. There is no way I feel for her romantically.
"Well?" Mother prompted gently.
I snapped back, my lips parting clumsily. "N-no. I do not have one, Mother." The lie tumbled out too hastily.
Her knowing smirk cut deeper than words. "Dear, I will not force you, but that look on your face…" She paused, her smile softening. "…was the look of someone who is in love."
I averted my gaze, pressing my lips together. There is no way I like Kira. She is a girl.
My thoughts turned darker, heavier. I was a man in my past life. Now I am a girl, but my heart still turns toward girls. Yet… all the lessons, all the traditions… they said such things were despised in our circle. To be shunned, humiliated, even if from a prestigious family. I cannot put my parents through that. I cannot lose them. Not again.
The fear tightened around my chest, making it hard to breathe. My hands trembled as cold sweat beaded on my skin. 'Stop, Amaris. Stop this instant. They would never hate you. They are your parents. They love you. Just… never let this truth escape.'
But my body shook regardless, betraying me.
Then, my mother's hands slid down from my shoulders to clasp mine firmly.
"Amaris, dear. It is alright. It is alright," she whispered soothingly, stroking the back of my hands. "Mother is here. Whatever it is, I will listen."
She gently lifted my chin until my eyes met hers—filled with worry and unwavering love. My throat constricted.
"Mother…" I choked out, before the words caught.
She hugged me tightly, her hand rubbing circles on my back. "Tell me, dear. What is wrong?"
The words clawed at my throat, fighting to escape. Finally, trembling, I whispered:
"I… I do not like men."
The silence after felt deafening. Mother's hand froze for the briefest second.
And in that second, my heart plummeted. The fear surged—I ruined it. I should not have said it. They will hate me. I am a disgrace. I am so sorry.
Tears spilled uncontrollably. "I am sorry, I am so sorry, Mother. Forgive me…"
"Why are you sorry, dear? There is nothing to forgive," Mother said firmly, holding me tighter. Her voice grew more insistent as she stroked my back. "It is alright. It is something to celebrate—you discovered what you truly like! Do not cry, my love."
But her comfort only made me cry harder.
"Mother… I am a disgrace. A disgrace to this family," I croaked bitterly, burying my face in my hands.
"You are not a disgrace, Amaris. You never have been, and you never will be," she said firmly, gently peeling my hands away so she could see my face.
"But the lessons… they said—"
"Shh. Those lessons are nonsense. Outdated traditions meant to control, not to define. Pay them no mind," she cut me off, her hand stroking my hair. "You are our daughter. That is all that matters. And nothing will change that."
Her embrace tightened. "Even if you loved something strange—even if you fell for an inanimate object, or even if you were a… a furry, we would still love you."
I pulled away slightly, raising an eyebrow despite my tears. She laughed nervously and pulled me back into her arms.
"Well, even if you were a… pedophile—"
"Mother!" I protested, horrified.
She burst into laughter, squeezing my hands warmly. "What I mean is, no matter what you identify as, or who you love, you will always be our beloved daughter. And nothing—nothing—will change that."
Her smile radiated unwavering certainty. Tears still clung to my lashes, but for the first time, relief broke through the storm inside me.
I smiled faintly, my chest easing. Thank you, Lord, for this family.
I hugged my mother again, and she held me tightly, neither of us willing to let go.