Page 185 of Revels on an Angel’s Grave

“Siena doesn’t show the distance,” Emmeline observed.

“She wouldn’t.” Chrysta laughed. “Siena loves easily. Leo and Vivienne are more reserved. Less trusting.” She took a sip of her tea, considering. “Lola changed when Deacon died. They all did, in different ways. Roremar became more serious and focused. Grew into the man you met. As if to balance him out, Nico became softer. He always felt so much, took on the pain of everyone around him. Not with responsibility as Roremar did—wanting to fix everything for us all—but as if feeling it with them would lighten their burden. Losing his father made Nico even more empathetic, and he became my gentle boy.”

A tear rolled down Chrysta’s cheek, her thin fingers tightening on her mug. She smiled softly down at her hands, and Emmeline hung on every word as she bled a mother’s love.

“But Lola? She was always my wild girl—she got that from Deacon—and when she lost him, she became a phoenix born from his ashes. It was like that loss was the reminder that things were so fleeting, and she wanted to fill every moment with as much life as possible. Sometimes it meant great adventure, sometimes quiet peace painting in her studio. She wanted every breath to be about something she loves.”

“She still seems to live that way,” Emmeline said, the words almost choking her. Would her mother speak of her so fondly? What would she say if she saw Emmeline today?

Inside, Siena stood and squeezed Lola to her. Then she gave Desmond a long hug and allowed Roremar to lead her back to the bedroom.

“Roremar is lucky to have you fighting for him as fiercely as you are.”

Watching him disappear down the hall, Emmeline whispered, “He deserves it.”

“He does. He’s taken care of all of us for years, stepped up when he shouldn’t have had to.” Regret layered her voice, and daringly, Emmeline reached out and squeezed her arm.

“He wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“He should never have had to take care of us. I was catatonic when we lost Deacon, and yes, I was physically sick, but I pulled myself together eventually to care for my children. There was simply so much care to be done, I was missing things. I hadn’t even realized how much Roremar was doing to keep us afloat those first few months. And by the time I did, he was too committed for me to talk him out of it. Or that’s what I thought.

“He looked at me, heard my ragged breaths and saw the life fading from my eyes, and feared losing another parent. So, we became a team instead. But it’s one of my greatest regrets that I robbed him of that youth he wasn’t ready to graduate yet.”

“He’d never think of it like that.”

“No,” Chrysta said with a soft smile, “but I’m his mother. So, I always will.”

Emmeline only nodded, feeling the love deep in her words.

“You have a spot in our family, Emmeline. I won’t pry about what you all may want that spot to be, but no matter what, it’s there.”

Setting her tea on the railing, Chrysta hugged Emmeline, and it was so natural to allow herself to be embraced. To consider belonging here, not in a city where her magic was abused, even if only for right now.

Pulling back, Chrysta smiled and added, “I won’t pry, but I can’t promise my daughters won’t.”

“Pry about what?” Roremar asked from the doorway, stroking Cirre’s head. With the sleeves of the fresh tunic Desmond had given him rolled to his elbows, the Fate sigil tattoos of his siblings were on display, each a reminder of what was at stake.

“Nothing,” Chrysta said, winking at Emmeline. “I’m going to get some rest. I’ll hopefully see you two later?”

“Of course,” Roremar said, kissing his mother on the cheek. Emmeline hoped he wasn’t lying. She never knew what the next day would hold with the end of the tournament looming, with Dryvius’s motives still unknown, with Rocarri’s twisted games.

But Chrysta disappeared inside, and Roremar slipped onto the balcony, taking his mother’s spot.

Except he stood behind Emmeline, bracing his hands on the railing on either side of her. Soft padding told Emmeline Cirre had jumped up to the roof, giving them privacy. A breeze wrapped around them, the air bringing the promise of a storm and tangling with the sweet scent of the violets growing in the window box.

“If we haven’t slept, is it technically still tonight?” Roremar asked Emmeline, lips grazing her neck.

The constant fear of someone watching them reverberated through Emmeline, tensing her bones. But so did Roremar’s confession from earlier.

I love you because…

She nodded, eyes drifting closed as she leaned into him, desperate to stay here for another moment. To remember it before she had to give it away again.

“We’re back in the capital.”

“But I think it’s still tonight.” Roremar’s eager persistence warmed her, as did each press of his lips to her skin. His proximity, his voice, his touch…it all drove her wild. The soft kisses had an ache forming between her thighs and an even worse one spreading behind her sternum.

Emmeline spun to face him, crossing her arms as if to stifle it. “It appears we’re at an impasse, Reckless.”