ic's

the time I stepped through the door, Francesca's laughter would echo down the hall, and I'd catch glimpses of Emilia chasing

perhaps ushering her to bed. But instead, when I found them, Emilia barely looked up. She sat with Francesca on th

up from the couch, keeping still as Emilia conti

ce even as I stepped closer. Emilia di

y, just long enough to acknowledge me, before turning her attention back to my daughte

red hiding. It was subtle, but I could tell. She was giving me the cold shoulder, and I was no stranger to that particular dance. I'd seen i

er, to wait for someone to explain themselves. But with Emilia, I felt a flicker of curiosity, a faint need to understand

he doorway. Francesca looked up at me, her eyes bright with that familiar spark

of the warmth I'd grown accustomed to seeing in h

rovoke this reaction, but it was clear that something was bothering her. And for some reason, it bothered me more than it should have. She was just an

looked disappointed but didn't argue, hopping off the couch and giving Emilia a quick hug bef

my arms over my chest as I met her

Anger. "I'm not upset," she said coolly, but there was an edge to her words that

but it was clear now that something I'd said had struck a nerve. I was used to people following my

steady. "I thought we had an agreement, Emilia. You

inching. "Yes, I understood the terms. But I didn't real

e without pushing further. But Emilia was nothing if not stubborn. "I paid for your brother's trea

. "You think that's enough?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. "You think tha

Part of me wanted to end it, to remind her of her place, but ano

a," I said finally, choosing my words

essed frustration. "You don't understand, Alaric. Family isn't something you can ju

milia. It's about commitment. I need someone I can rely on, someone w

ugh the silence like a blade. "And I need to know

ance, her anger-it was as if she was challenging me, daring me to see th

nd your concerns, Emilia," I said, my voice quieter, more measured. "But I made it c

out of her. "I didn't realize what those sacrifices would feel like," she mu

t was rare for anyone to speak to me so honestly, without fear or pretense. And though I didn'

d, the words feeling foreign on my tongue. "Once everything is settle

w her smile. "Thank you," she said quietly, the fight in her

reed to her so easily. I wasn't sure why I'd agreed to her request, why I'd allowed her words to affect me the

y growing within me, the urge to understand her.