Vara had picked everything out. There were countless reminders of her here.
Arthur took a step back, giving an agonized glance at the child in her arms. “N-no. In a bit, I suppose.”
He hastily left the room. Emma boosted Kalina up and gave a sad sigh.
Since Vara had died, Arthur had thrown himself into his research, to get away from it all. He rarely saw his children, preferring to hole himself up in the library for hours at a time.
I couldn’t say Arthur was a poor father, because that would be wrong. I just don’t think he knew how to cope without Vara.
“We need to step in,” Emma had said privately to me, moments after the twins were born. I immediately accepted. Without a mother, and a father too grief-stricken to go on, these children needed someone to look after them, and who better than family? Emma and I were their aunt and uncle, as well as their godparents. It was our duty to provide for them if Arthur emotionally couldn’t.
I’d never changed a diaper or made formula, but Evonna showed me how. Emma’s mother was distracted by the arrival of her grandchildren, which gave Lucien more free time to search for the Unseelie stone… although I think he spent so much time in the library in order to support Arthur. Someone had to bring him out of it, and I hoped his father would be the one to help him out of this terrible spot. Lucien had roused me from my grief over the death of my father, after all… though the loss of a mate was entirely different.
I sat in a rocking chair, swaying back and forth. Kazim cooed in my arms and latched on to the stuffed lamb I’d given him. He nibbled on the ear, while Kalina cried violently for food.
Emma grabbed a warm bottle Evonna had dropped off and slipped it into Kalina’s mouth. She sucked at the milk with vigor, nose wrinkling as she observed Emma’s face.
Kazim was an easy baby, gentle and sleepy. His sister was a riot. She was constantly kicking her legs and arms, crying out about something. She seemed permanently disgruntled with the world and everyone who lived in it.
“You want to switch?” Emma asked.
“Of course.” We switched off. Emma took Kazim, who was about to drift off, and I nestled Kalina into my arm. She finished off the bottle and then pushed out her arms, tossing it onto the floor and giving a loud yell. I burped her, but even then, she began to fuss louder.
By how red her face was getting, I knew she was about to start screaming again. Evonna told me babies liked skin-to-skin contact. I unbuttoned my shirt with one hand and put Kalina against my chest, so she could hear my heartbeat.
Her eyelids fluttered. I could tell she was trying to stay awake, but ultimately lost the battle as the rocking chair put her out of it.
“How do you do that?” Emma asked, a bit of jealousy in her tone. “She likesyou.”
“She likes you, too. You’re just not patient enough.”
I parted back a bit of Kalina’s blonde hair with my finger. I liked being around them. There was a certain light and newness about children that couldn’t be extinguished by the nastiness of the world.
Emma took a seat in the opposite rocking chair and flung her head back against the headrest. “Ugh. These kids are gonna kill me.”
“They are fun, though.” Kalina had grasped for my finger in her sleep, and I let her hold on to it. She had a firm grip, even as a baby. She’d hold a sword well when she came of age.
“They are.” Emma gently wiped Kazim’s nose. “Just wish I could keep up.”
Emma still wasn’t feeling well, but Evonna subbed in when she had to rest. We had friends, too— there were plenty of people who were all too eager to lend a hand if one of us needed a break.
If I was honest, privately, I wanted these children all to myself, and I didn’t want to share. It made it easier to pretend that life was different.
Emma stared at the stuffed lamb on Kazim’s chest. “Do you think my brother will get better? These kids can’t grow up without him.”
I wanted to tell her he would, but I couldn’t promise it. “It’s been so short a time. I don’t think we can know, at the moment.”
“It’s just… I’ve heard of fathers who can’t stand their children after they lose their wives. Most move on, but what if Arthur never does?”
“I don’t think he harbors any resentment toward them. It wasn’t their fault she died. She was gone before they were even born. Vara would’ve had a normal labor if—”
“I know.”
Kalina let out a soft snuff. A familiar wave of regret rolled through me, and I said, “I wish I could apologize. I know it wouldn’t change anything.”
“You can’t,” Emma said bluntly. “It’s over.”
Her words were stinging, but true. I knew Vara wasn’t the betrayer now. It made no sense for Droga to kill her if she was working for Gabby.Guiltwasn’t the right word when I’d considered my cruel words to her. Shame was more like it. I had no right to accuse her like I did, and she’d died thinking I considered her a traitor.
