He's clearly freaking out internally.
A big part of me understands his anxiety about being parted, even for a second. The world has changed since my demise, and not knowing all the potential threats means anything could happen to my elemental, no matter how briefly he’s gone.
But Everett has clearly gotten far stronger and more brutal than I ever would’ve guessed. He can handle himself, and I need to talk to Lillian alone, so I lift onto my tiptoes to kiss his cool cheek.
“You’ll be back quickly.”
It’s more of a command than a reassurance. Once I’ve finally stepped through the threshold and I’m safely inside Lillian’swarm chambers, he lets out a slow breath before striding away like a man on a time-sensitive mission.
Lillian shuts the door and ushers me closer to the crackling fireplace. As I glance over this room, I begin stripping out of multiple outer coats and scarves.
Lillian has turned this from an administrator’s office into a cozy one-room living area. Happy, bright yellow drapes curtain the window that lets in fresh dawn light. Various herbs hang drying on one brightly painted wall. There’s also a wardrobe, a colorful bookshelf, a bed overflowing with pillows tucked in one corner, and books stacked ridiculously high on a light blue nightstand.
My eye catches on a frame beside the stack of books. It’s a grainy photograph of a little girl dressed in some kind of uniform, with a big cheese grin that shows off several missing teeth. Between her softly pointed ears, bright blue eyes, short curly hair, and button nose, I realize the girl is Lillian’s…daughter.
She never told me she had a daughter.
This revelation is stunning enough that my attention lingers on the picture even after I sit on a stool by the fireplace.
Lillian follows where I’m looking. A soft, far-off expression crosses her face. “Her name was Annabel. I was so relieved to find that picture in the rubble of my old apartment after returning to the mortal world.”
I look at her questioningly.
“It wasn’t that I wanted to keep secrets from you. It’s just that it’s so difficult to think about her, never mind talking about her,” Lillian explains.
Using a woven mitt, she grabs a pot boiling over the crackling fire before moving to a small table. She quickly dishes up oatmeal and pours hot chocolate for each of us. I accept a steaming mug and bowl from her as she sits on the otherstool. We sit in comfortable yet teeming silence as we eat for a moment.
But it’s time to get everything out in the open. Setting the dishes down, I face my oldest friend and caretaker.
“You knew all along.”
Lillian sips her hot chocolate before meeting my gaze with a sigh. “Yes. I knew who you were even before I was sent to watch over you in the Nether.”
Sent?
I study her in the glow of the fire. “Syntyche sent you?”
“Galene did, actually.” Lillian takes a deep breath and sets her mug aside to give this conversation her full attention. “Do you remember what I told you about my life before the Nether?”
“You were married to a fae, but it didn’t work out.” That’s mostly all she ever said about it, but I look at the photograph on the bedside table again. “You had a daughter with him before you divorced.”
“It wasn’t his fault, or mine. See, Annabel was our entire world. It didn’t matter to us that many people, including our families, disapproved of a legacy and a human getting married. We were just a happy family until…” Lillian’s eyes water. She smooths her jacket, clearing her throat. “There was an accident. We were on the way home one night from Annabel’s first bridging ceremony. Edgar was driving carefully, but a semi-truck T-boned the back of our car at an intersection and?—”
Lillian cuts off and looks away, exhaling shakily and tucking a wild curl back into her braid. “She didn’t survive the impact, and neither did our marriage. I was just too lost and heartbroken to function after losing her. I can’t even describe how dark that time was for me. So, naturally, I wound up in the high temple of…”
“My mother,” I guess.
The goddess of darkness and mourning.
“Yes. I found peace there and decided to stay, working as an attendant to the priests and priestesses. That’s where I met your father.”
Wait. “You knew Pietro Amato?”
Lillian nods, wiping away a stray tear. “The other attendants didn’t know him by name, but they told me that on the same day each year for three years in a row, that man came to Syntyche's high temple to spend the entire day grieving. We were under strict rules to give mourners their space and never interrupt them, but…I saw myself in him. I recognized the kind of loss that can only come from losing a child, so I approached him.”
She shakes her head at the memory. “I wanted to comfort him, but your father comforted me instead. We talked about Annabel for a long time, and then we talked about you. Only after the other mourners had left and the temple workers were long gone did he confide in me who your mother was. He was clearly a man in pain, so I didn’t tell him how crazy I thought he was. But after he left the temple, Galene appeared to me.”
I narrow my eyes at the fire. “Let me guess. She was dressed head to toe in white, read your mind, and made a lot of obscure remarks to annoy the fuck out of you.”
