The image of their graves pressed upon her mind. She sniffed. They did not deserve this. Their only crime in this world was having her for a daughter.
Caspian stood solemnly behind her while she crossed her arms and stared outside. She wished he would leave.
Finally, she spoke, “I don’t know how, but I know in my bones that if I had never run off with you, this would have never happened, so I don’t want you here, and I’d like to be alone.”
“Elizabeth…”
He swallowed audibly behind her. He was a demon on unsure footing. A man ill-equipped to deal with a woman who was grieving.
A heavy silence stretched between them.
“I … I am not good with words,” Caspian began. “Or making someone feel better when they are sad, but I will be here.”
She whirled towards him in anger and opened her mouth to retort, but he placed a finger warningly on her lips.
“You can be alone, but I will not leave. I will wait outside until you are … ready. If you decide in an hour, or two, or ten that you wish for company or a ride to wherever you are going. I will wait for you. Whoever did this might be waiting for you to return, and I will not leave you until I know you are safe and in good company.”
She looked at him with incredulity.
“And when you are ready”—His eyes found hers, and his words became dangerously soft—“I will find whoever did this and put them underground.” The intensity in his eyes was frightening. The flames in his eyes burned brighter, as if talk of revenge and murder excited the demon who wore his flesh.
“Good,” was all she said.
She picked up her father’s journal and left the study, leaving Caspian standing there alone.
***
Caspian paced for hours outside the house. Once he arrived and saw the freshly marked graves, he figured out what had happened. His poor Elizabeth. He didn’t know what to do to make her feel better; he knew there was nothing he could do.
He wasn’t known for his kindness and sympathy. He was the worst person to hold her hand through it.
A bird squawked, and the sound of horses' hooves filled the air.
A white carriage rolled up the drive, and the door was thrown open. Out stormed a tall female figure with dark curly hair tied in an elegant knot at the top of her head.
“Asmodeus.” Lady Charlotte nodded at him as she stormed past. Upon seeing Caspian, she rolled her eyes. “Caspian.”
Affronted, Caspian stood between her storm of anger and the house, which his favoured human was grieving the biggest loss of her life.
Asmodeus, who stood beside him, looked equally outraged.
“Move,” Charlotte ordered, the tone rude.
“What do you mean, move?” Asmodeus snickered. It was quite comical to see a slender woman face down two demons who could extinguish her life with half a blink. As if she thought she had any chance to get past them if they didn’t let her pass.
“MOVE.”
“Why don’t you make me, little human?” Asmodeus took another step towards her with an evil smile that would have made most mortals flee.
Caspian stepped off to the side, content to let his friend handle this. Most grown men would have stepped back when a demon invaded their personal space, leering over them.
But Charlotte refused to be intimidated. She strode up to the big demon, nearly nose to nose, and gave him a wicked smile. “Fine.” And the girl stuck her leg under Asmodeus’s and yanked, making him stumble forward to catch his balance. By the time he turned to glare, she was already striding towards the door. “I’m going to see her, and neither of you will stop me.”
Charlotte rapped sharply on the door. She knocked again, louder and more insistently.
“I feel sorry for whatever man ends up with that hellion,” Asmodeus muttered.
Elizabeth opened the door, eyes rimmed red.
