Mated To The Cruel Prince novel Chapter 252

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.

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