“She’s so tiny.” My eyes remained fixated on her, every part of me in awe of this tiny being. “I remember when my sister was born. She was just as small.”
Damien’s eyes flitted to me briefly before falling to Emilia once more. “You be good for Uncle Barrett,” he whispered, and leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. She squirmed in response before she yawned, her eyes squeezing shut tightly for a moment before looking around once more.
“Selene is already aware, so this shouldn’t take long,” he said, hovering a moment, his hand lingering on the blanket.
“I’ll protect her,” I said, lifting my eyes to him. “I’ll make sure she’s all right. You take care of Lucia.”
“Thank you,” Damien muttered, placing his hand on my shoulder. He leaned his forehead to mine, and we lingered there, letting the weight of our grief anchor us.
“I’d better not hold things up anymore,” he said, the dread of the reality of Lucia’s passing clear as day on his face.
I offered him a half smile. “I promise not to teach her any bad habits just yet.”
His lips twitched, and he rolled his eyes before heading for the door.
My eyes fell to her curled up in her blanket, the galaxies and constellations seeming alive in the fibers. She startled, her face tightening, her hand shooting out as she whimpered.
“Shhhh.” I swayed as Damien had and ran my finger over her tiny palm. Her fingers wrapped around mine, so tiny in comparison. She settled, and I allowed her to keep hold of my finger as I paced toward the window.
The candle’s glow flickered across the room, moonlight leaking in through the window, and I stopped to look up at it.
“See? Everything’s all right,” I said, looking down at her, shifting my weight back and forth as I rocked her. “Nothing will happen to you while I’m here.”
Her eyes lingered on me, never latching onto a detail though, and I smiled down at her. She continued to hold my finger, and I could feel the hum of her magic where our skin touched.
“You’re going to be powerful, just like your mother,” I said, blinking back tears. “She loved you so much. She should be the one holding you, not me.”
Tears dripped onto the swaddle, the galaxies and stars swirling as the droplets turned to stardust amidst the constellations, and I rubbed them away before smiling down at her.
“Would you like to hear a story?” I whispered before looking out the window, my heart twisting as my gaze landed on the empty bench beneath the maple tree in the moonlight. I could almost see Lucia sitting there, smiling as she always did.
“Centuries ago, there was a kingdom,” I said, smiling down at her, “inhabited by beings with powers that rivaled the gods.”
Her lashes lowered, and that she found comfort in my arms flooded my chest with warmth.
“Within the kingdom lived a princess.” My voice quivered as Lucia’s smile flashed across my memories. “And she was treasured by her people, gifted to them by the gods, blessed with more power than any of them could bear.” Her grip loosened on my finger, and I gently eased her hand onto her chest. “The ruler of the kingdom fell in love with the princess.”
Something fractured deep within my soul, but I wouldn’t let the sorrow capture me, not while I held Emilia. I would share everything with her, help her know the mother who never got to hold her.
“When the princess returned his affection, they united, forming a bond more powerful than the foundations of their realm.” I held her close, feeling her tiny body relax as she slipped into sleep.
I eased into the chair beside the window, unable to take my eyes off her. “It will be a while, but she’ll return to us, I promise. She always does...”
PART THREE
1976
(87 Years Later)
40
BARRETT
Sun leaked onto me through the trees in warm rays. The forest was filled with life, birds singing in the trees, the sound of water rushing over the stony bed of the creek reaching my ears, twilight flowers littering the grass around me, dusting the green grass in a blanket of blues and purples. My eyes fell to my small hands, my poorly woven flower crown resting within my grasp.
I wanted to give it to someone, someone special, someone I barely knew but wanted to learn all I could about her.
Laughter reached my ears, clear and bright, and my heart warmed at how Calliope’s smile could lift my spirits, no matter how down I felt. I turned to where she was, and a strange sadness swelled in my chest that I couldn’t understand when I found her kneeling at another girl’s back, weaving a flower crown into her hair. I couldn’t quite make out the girl’s features, only that her hair was pale, like the silk from the cornstalks harvested in the fields my friend’s family tended.
