Shadow of the Heir

Heaven is Not Fit to House a Love like You and I

Most days dragged by.

Some flew.

Ella's mornings were spent in the kitchen with Anne, and her afternoons were spent in the garden. Things were peaceful. Things were quiet. There were no poachers in the darkened treeline, no boggarts in the shadows of the home. She wasn't afraid to look out the window at night. She never heard from Isidora again or felt her ghostly fingers against her wrists.

She was startled by her own reflection the first week.

She only mildly despised it by the second.

It had been two weeks since her funeral, nearing the third. She sat in the study, with a book in her lap. Not that she was reading it; it was practically an accessory. Reading had ceased when she stopped being able to comprehend the sentences as actual language between her frantic glances at the clock on the wall.

It was Friday, and the boys came home on Fridays—not that they were supposed to, but given the... state of things, the professors turned a blind eye to their absence. Every Friday, at six in the afternoon.

It was five minutes til.

Ella shifted for the ninth time in the chair. She was antsy. Her weeks were practically spent counting down the hours until Sebastian would be back, and then dreading the end of their time together once he arrived.

An endless loop of waiting—Sebastian had been right when he said the next few months wouldn't be wonderful.

Still, she'd take the boredom and waiting over near-death experiences and suffering any day of the week.

Ella abandoned the book in the chair when it was three minutes til. The brown of the cover stood out too clearly against the red of the high-back chair, and she knew he'd look at her rather pointedly when he saw it. She swore she'd never seen someone so particular about the order of their books.

She waited in the kitchen, staring directly at the fireplace.

And she waited.

And waited.

Ominis came through, squarely on time. He didn't dust the ash from himself immediately, not that he had to since Anne rose from her spot on the sofa and brushed it off of him.

No Sebastian.

Ella frowned. She already didn't love the idea that he was attending Hogwarts without her. For no reason other than Rachel did not remember that Ella would kill her where she stood if she attempted a single thing.

The healthy fear she had cultivated had been disposed of.

She'd been determined to try her luck with Sebastian when she knew about Ella; she had little faith it wouldn't happen if Rachel didn't know.

Not that she thought Sebastian would pay Rachel any mind, but it didn't stop her blood pressure from rising at the idea.

Anne mumbled something to Ominis while his hands slid up her arms. They'd gotten overtly more affectionate since their engagement. Obviously—they were engaged. Sebastian still found a way to look anywhere else in the room when they touched.

"Yes, darling, but," Ominis spoke in hushed whispers. He jerked his head around, as if he was looking for something beyond the visual veil. Ella froze when his attention settled a little too close to her. She hadn't even made a sound. "Must we jump forthright to slaughter if he's a few minutes late?"

Begrudgingly, she set aside her thoughts of slowly and painfully helping Rachel find the great, bright light at the end of life. She wasn't excellent at it yet—some still slipped through. She'd gotten reprimanded for it a lot in the last few weeks. "You're right."