“Are you both happy now that we’re back in Karra?” I ask the crows. When they simply stare, I continue. “Of course, you’re happy. Now, you’ll get treats daily.”
They bob their heads, as if agreeing with me.
I look up as I’m pulled from my task by a knock on the door.
“Who is it?”
“Everly. I have two people with me who really want to see you.” I smile, relieved to hear her voice. It has been weeks since we freed her from the Hematites, but it never gets old hearing her, seeing her, knowing she’s safe and with Cenric again.
I tuck my braid behind my shoulder and move to the door, opening it. Everly stands there with her mother, Averill, and her grandmother, Darla.
“Hello,” Everly says with a wide grin. “Show them your pendant.”
My hand trembles as I do what she asked, pulling the necklace from my bodice. Averill’s eyes fill with tears.
“Oh, Estrid.”
She closes the distance between us and throws her arms around me, embracing me, her lost daughter. I wrap my arms around her, clinging to her. Tears stream down Darla’s cheeks as she embraces both of us.
I stay in that state, lost in their embrace, lost in everything that was taken from me when I was just a baby. Too young to defend myself. Too young to understand. Too young to remember. Now, I have them back.
As they pull away, I wipe tears from my cheeks.
“I knew Estrid was alive,” Darla says. “I knew it.”
“She never gave up hope,” Averill says with a warm smile.
“And now we’re all together again.” Everly grins and grabs my hand, fastening her fingers around mine.
“My daughters.” Happiness dances in Averill’s eyes as she looks at us. “My beautiful twin daughters.”
Joy ignites in my veins. So much joy. So much peace. So much understanding that was robbed from me for so long.
I ask a burning question. “Where is our father?”
Averill’s brow pinches as she clutches her fingers against her chest. “He’s dead.”
“Oh.” Disappointment races through me at the thought of never seeing him or speaking to him.
What was he like?
“I never met him either.” Everly sits next to me.
Darla shuffles around my bedchamber, inspecting my belongings and speaks over her shoulders. “He wasn’t a good man.”
“How long do you have?” Averill asks as she looks at my abdomen.
“Not long.” I smooth my cotehardie. “Hopefully soon.”
Averill sits near me on a chair. “You look fantastic.”
“Thank you.” I run my fingers across my stomach. “I’m just ready to meet them.”
“I remember what that was like.” Averill smiles, and my chest tightens as I think of myself as a young girl forced to watch as her mother was slaughtered in front of her.
I have a mother again.
Nothing could ever replace the one who raised me, but there’s something tender in Averill’s eyes, something loving, something that assures me she loves me more than I could ever imagine.
