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I will never look at that house the same way again. No warmth. No peace.
“And you? Are you okay staying here?” Lifting a hand, I ruffle his hair and watch the annoyance flash across his features. At thirteen summers, the future king is easy to annoy, and as his older sister, I’ve earned the right to give him a tough time. To bug and be playful and ease him into his role as a leader someday, but for now, we must leave him here.
I hate it. Abhor the emotions being inside our uncle's property have brought forth in me.
I’m not one to harbor hate or dark emotions, but this I can’t fight. The man abandoned us after his brother’s murder. Betrayed his king.
But for now, he’ll be useful. Father wanted Leo here, and I’ll abide while biting my tongue.
Their reckoning will come.
“The moment I take the throne, I’m making you eat a toad.” Leo’s words snap me from my thoughts, and I laugh, shoulders shaking. “Just wait and see.”
“What if I made you eat one now?”
“One day, Isa. One day.” His face scrunches in repulsion, the same reaction as Dad whenever Mom cut off his caffeine consumption. “Just nasty.”
A giggle escapes from me. “I’m sure you’ll try.”
“Just remember one day I’ll be king. Payback.” Leo becomes quiet after that, no more teasing, and the expression on his face saddens me. Exhaling, the weight on his shoulders makes him appear older than he is. “Honestly, I’d rather be home, but I understand, and promise to behave. I’ll be fine here.”
“I’m proud of you.” Movement catches my attention from the corner of my eye; Uncle Roberto stands near us, and I give him a small nod. “Why don’t you head inside and see if Aunt Silla needs help? She still might have some bombolone Gabby didn’t snatch up.”
Before the last word leaves me, Leo is racing inside while the presence of our zio comes closer. He stops at the other side of me. Quiet and pensive, Roberto looks out toward my sister while I study his expression.
Regret. Abject misery.
“You hate me.” Not a question.
“I do.” Won’t sugarcoat it or calm his guilty conscience. “And while we both have burdens to carry, I faced their anger and helped shoulder the pain while you hid, Uncle. You left us to fend for ourselves after years of feigning love and fealty to the royal family—to your brother and king.”
That cuts him. His face snaps toward me, pinched tight and with watery eyes. “That allegiance cost me my only sibling, Isa. I’m ashamed, not guilty.”
Shame. Another emotion I’m all too familiar with.
It hurts to know you couldn’t save someone you love. That you let them down.
“Father, please. It’s not too late,” I plead, holding my hand out toward him and Mom. Begging them to come with us. “There must be a way to stop this. Something we’ve missed.”
“You can’t outrun fate, Isabella. You know this.” And I do, but I also can’t accept it. That there will be a world where they no longer exist. “Daughter, you’ve seen what I’ve seen and the end for those involved. Never falter, sweet child. You three are our future, and many will depend on you.”
“But we need you.”
“Baby, please go.” Mom looks at me with tears in her eyes while my younger brother trembles and the sound of something being slammed against our front door grows louder. The walls shake, the clash of fighting outside unmistakable; there are two guards on duty tonight, as is customary. Father has never been one for keeping families apart at night, and if you work for our royal court, you’re expected to break bread with your wife and child. “Get Leo out of here. You three are our future, Isa. Save our people.”
Dad lowers his face toward Leo and lays his forehead over his. There’s a whispered exchange between them, tears streaming down both faces, but I can’t make out what he says. Yet the moment Dad’s radiant pulse begins to flow, I throw my arms around Mom and cry. It’s something he’s done in the past with all of us after a scare or learning a new spell, and in moments of excitement and fear, he soothes with the low frequency that wraps around us with love.
Yet today, it hurts.
I sob because I’ll never see them again. Not in the flesh.
No more hugs. No more late-night talks and lessons.
The scent of patchouli and lavender will fade with time and never come back.
“I love you, Mom.” The choked words are full of sorrow, the reality tearing me apart. “By blood and pact.”
“We are one, Isabella.”
