Mama had Mokosza’s blessing. She captured magic with her shuttle and threads. It was she who’d first encouraged his interest in art.
But seeing his likeness and Roksana’s... A rock settled in his gut. As lady of Rubin, Mama helped keep peace amongst the lords of Nizina with her cool head and honeyed tongue, but it was hard to think of Roksana someday filling that role. She had none of Mama’s gift for diplomacy. He’d tried begging Mama to convince Tata before, and she’d refused. If only Mama’s way with words had been hereditary.
She tugged on his hand. “Don’t leave me in suspense. You’ve got an artist’s eye. So?”
He inhaled deeply. “It’s beautiful, Mama.”
She beamed as she stroked his likeness on the tapestry. “I’ll be done before the wedding, thanks to Roksana.”
“Did she come to visit
