37

37
Emilia’s POV
I turned around on my bed, blinking open one eye and wincing et the ray of sunlight that threatened to blind me. I closed my eyes and turned away from the window, then opened it and stared at the alarm clock on my night stand. It was almost ten in the morning, and there was that urge that always tugged at me every morning-an instinctive urge to check on Francesca. Maybe it was the way she looked at me, or how she’d laugh like she’d known me her whole life. Whatever it was, it had a hold on me, something fierce and protective.
I pulled on a robe and padded quietly down the hall, heading to her room. I could hear faint voices as I neared, a woman’s gentle tone and Francesca’s soft giggles. Confusion and a little bit of panic washed over me. Alaric wouldn’t just allow any woman in this house, much less near Francesca’s room. He was Intensely private, and I doubted he’d invite anyone without good reason.
My steps slowed, and I hesitated outside her door, feeling my pulse quicken. Who would be in there, talking to Francesca like that? And why was I just now hearing about it? That there was a woman in the house?
I pushed the door open, slowly, peering inside. There, seated on the edge of Francesca’s bed, was a woman I’d never seen before. She looked older than me, maybe in her early thirties or older, with dark, shoulder-length hair and an elegant demeanor that reminded me of Alaric, though softer, somehow. She had a kind face, one that radiated warmth as she spoke to Francesca, who was laughing in a way that made my heart skip. I almost thought for a moment that she could be family.
The woman’s gaze shifted from Francesca to me as I entered, and she froze, her expression surprised and guarded. My mind raced, wondering if this was Francesca’s mother. The idea struck like a flash of lightning, filling me with a strange dread. Alaric had never spoken of her mother, but surely he’d mentioned if she were around, wouldn’t he?
I managed to gather myself and smiled politely. “Good morning.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed just slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face as she observed me. “Good morning,” she replied, her tone careful.
Francesca’s eyes lit up as soon as she saw me, and she scrambled down from the bed, rushing toward me with open arms. “Mommy!” she cried, her little voice full of joy as she crashed into my legs, wrapping herself around me tightly.
Shock rippled through the room like a crack in glass. I could feel it in the silence that followed Francesca’s words, in the way the woman’s expression shifted from curiosity to disbelief.
The woman’s mouth opened slightly, as if she was about to say something but couldn’t find the words. Her gaze darted from me to Francesca, questions filling her eyes that I wasn’t sure I could answer.
I held Francesca close, my hand brushing through her hair as I tried to push down the racing thoughts. Mommy. She’d called me that before, but never in front of anyone who doesn’t live in the house, and certainly not in front of a woman who, for all I knew, could very well be her actual mother. It didn’t escape me that Alaric had been incredibly vague on the subject, never once mentioning details about Francesca’s mother, not even a hint.
Standing there, I felt the weight of the woman’s eyes on me, scrutinizing, assessing, and beneath that, something else. “Good morning,” she answered at last, shooting me a tight smile as she got up from Francesca’s bed and brushed past us, walking out of the room.
My heart continued thundering in my chest as I dropped Francesca. “Emilia, can we go to the park today?” She asked, her eyes bright and pleading.
I thought about it for a few minutes, then decided there was nothing bad in doing that. Plus I desperately wanted to stay away from the woman, from the house for a few minutes. Hours even. Oh God. I felt like my throat was constricting.
“Sure,” I choked out. “Why not? I’m sure your daddy won’t mind,” I replied with a tight smile and she nodded her head enthusiastically, but then she frowned.
“Mommy, are you okay?” She murmured, tilting her head to the side a bit as she watched me.
“Yeah I’m fine,” I answered with a nod of my head. “I’m okay. Let’s go get you ready for the park.”
“Will we get icecream and pizza?” She asked with wide, bright eyes.
“Yes, baby girl.”
“And chocolates?” She asked.
“Anything you want, baby,” I assured her and she grinned at me.
She gestured at her clothes. “I still have to take a bath and do my hair.”
“And eat breakfast,” I added absentmindedly as I helped her out of her night dress.
“Can I eat breakfast at the park?” She asked, staring up at me with a pout.
I sighed, wanting to tell her yes, but I knew I shouldn’t. “No, baby. You can’t get breakfast at the park. You’re supposed to eat something good before you go to the park.”
“But I want to eat noodles. I like the one they sell at the park,” she insisted, eyes getting glassy.
“Fine,” I answered with a sigh. “Fine, you’ll get noodles at the park. But first, you’re going to eat a fruit.”
She frowned, shaking her head. “But I don’t want fruits.”
“It’s either you eat at home and not eat fruit, or you eat fruit and eat noodles at the park,” I told her firmly. “You have to choose.”
“Choose? But I want noodles, but I don’t want fruit,” she murmured with wobbly lips.
“You want noodles?” I asked her and she nodded her head eagerly. “You’ll get noodles at the park only if you eat an apple. Deal?”
She frowned and crossed her arms, and, God, she looked so much like Alaric in that moment. “Deal.”