Soulmates were a fabled tale, passed down through generations, that spoke of someone with the power to bring you back from death or completely sunder your soul. Ilaria Celestino had never put much stock in the fabled tales as a pair of soulmates had...
Free from a fake engagement, free from the Spire, and free from him. She should feel better than this, shouldn't she? Happier. Relieved, even. She tried to bring a smile to her face to quench the swelling sadness that blossomed in her chest.
The smile wouldn't stick. She sighed, closing her eyes. What was wrong with her? They had barely spoken, and when they had, it was rarely ever pleasant.
Maybe that was a lie.
She frowned, staring down at her hands. He had only ever been rude to her once, and it hadn't been that terrible.
"Dear, are you all right?"
Ilaria blinked. Right. It had been two days since the ball. Kiernan had released her from the deal, announcing he had lived up to his end of the deal. Now, she was in a carriage with her grandmother, returning to their home.
"Huh? Oh! Oh, yes. I'm all right." Smile and pretend like it's all okay. "I'm Glad to be back with you."
Lady Dahlia frowned, thin lips pursed together. "I must say, I am rather disappointed."
Frowning, she turned fully to her grandmother. "Why? Have I done something?"
"All my life, I believed you were one of the fated souls to find their other half." The old woman sighed, holding her weathered hands closer to her chest. "I was always so hopeful that you would prove me right. I was so certain Lord Kiernan was your soulmate. After all the rumors spread around him about deals with other beings, I would have bet my life on it."
Oh. Ilaria's gaze dropped to the floor. Would it be wrong of her to tell her grandmother she was beginning to believe they were soulmates? There was no other explanation for it. She was realizing that now. If only she had spent the time to pour over the books Lord Kiernan had talked about.
"I guess I can't be right about everything." Her grandmother chuckled, squeezing Ilaria's hand. "No matter. We are almost home. I am certain your mother will be thankful to have you back."
Her eyes widened a fraction. "Oh, Grandmother. About that. I have news for you. I'm uncertain if you'll be happy to hear it, but father is being released."
Lady Dahlia's eyes snapped over to her, fingers tightening around Ilaria's like a vice.
Ilaria winced.
"What do you mean, child? Your father was locked away for a long time. We tried years ago to try to get him released, but we were told that was impossible."
"Lord Kiernan," she began, and her grandmother's grip immediately relaxed. "He was kind enough to look into it for us. He promised me father would be released."
A knowing look crossed Lady Dahlia's face, lips curling into a small smile. "My, my. He has been looking out for you, hasn't he? Perhaps there is still some hope left."
"I doubt that. Our separation was amiable, but I don't foresee a future in which we are in each other's company once more."
"Stranger things have happened, dear. Oh, look! We're home. Why don't you run along inside, freshen up, and then we can have a long discussion alongside your mother?"
Leaning to look out the window, the tension that had been building within her chest eased. Home. The towering structure was like a long-lost friend, extending open doors like a welcoming embrace. The windows seemed to smile in the light of the sun, flashing shiny reflections. The carriage pulled to a stop, and the footman opened the door.
It was good to be back. Nothing sounded better than a hot bath. Hugging her grandmother, she slid out of the carriage, thanked the footman, and ran inside. Pausing at the entrance to the living room, Ilaria leaned against the doorframe.
Her mother was rocking back and forth in that old rocking chair. Soon, it wouldn't be so. Soon, it would be better, all put together and just like her childhood.
Breathing in a deep breath, Ilaria released it and felt more tension roll off her shoulders like water on a duck's back. First, a bath, then the good news.
A maid prepared the bath for her. A black porcelain tub filled halfway with steaming water and the rest with foamy white suds that shone iridescently. Lavender and mint filled her nostrils, working their way down into her lungs as she sank into the water up to her nose.
How she had missed this. The comfort of home. The familiar scents and sounds.
That's what she tried to tell herself.
Something called to her from within, a yearning for something else. Lavender and mint were not what she desired to be surrounded by.
Cinnamon. She longed for cinnamon. The sweet, spicy scent that had first caught her attention in the Spire. She missed it.
Her tongue tingled with the desire for mango, to bite into soft flesh and feel the juice fill her mouth.
Her home had become a house, and her heart longed for another.
Gone were the memories of a raven boy with golden eyes who had filled her youthful mind with promises of running away together.
Here was the memory of a devil with dark eyes who had threatened a man for her, who had rescued her father.
Her soulmate.
Ilaria hated it. With every fiber of her being, she hated it. Why must she be fated to a man who didn't want her? How dare he cast her out, send her on her way back to the home she no longer knew?
But such was fate.
He, in his lonesome Spire, threading the lives of many into his domain.
She, here, with her family.
There was good news to be shared. She couldn't sit forlornly over what could not and would not be.
After scrubbing herself dry and dressing in one of her many gowns, she descended the stairs. Her mother would be elated with the news.
Lady Dahlia met her at the entrance to the living room, a sweet smile on her face. Ilaria returned it, dipping her head as she passed. It seemed so long ago since she had been discussing a ball with her grandmother in this room.
Walking around the rocking chair, she sank onto the couch. Her mother's glazed-over eyes fixed on some spot on the floor didn't acknowledge her.
Ilaria waited for her grandmother to take a seat, then cleared her throat. "Mother, I have news for you."
The woman didn't respond.
Licking her lips, Ilaria started again. "Within the next few days, we'll be getting a new house guest. Mother...Father is returning to us. To you."
Still, the woman rocked.
Disappointment crushed her heart like a stone crushed grain. What had she expected? It had been so long since her mother had shown any interest in the present world. Closing her eyes, Ilaria hung her head.
The constant creaking of the rocking chair stopped.
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