A Lady and Her Magic (Faerie 1)

“Thank you,” Sophia croaked. She reached out a tentative hand to take it from him.

“It’s not that bad, now is it?” he asked suddenly, his voice sounding like he’d swallowed an apple and was choking on it with every word.

“I suppose it could be worse,” Sophia twittered nervously.

“I can assure you there’s nothing worse than finding out you have children you’ve never known, Sophia.” His voice grew stronger. “Absolutely nothing.”

She raised her eyes to meet his. “Yes, there is. It’s living for twenty-six years without parents at all.”

He took a moment to clear his throat and collect his wits. Then he sighed heavily. “If I could have changed it, I would.”

“Did you not know the dangers going into it?” she asked. Her tone was sharp and she was well aware of it.

He nodded slowly, as though he held some reticence about answering. “I knew the dangers. But your mother and I thought our love would transcend the odds. We were youthful. Full of folly. Ridiculously naive.”

“What made you think you were that special?” she snorted.

He plucked a flower of his own and spun it between his fingertips. “I couldn’t live in her world. I would have left this one in one beat of my heart. I swear it.” He looked into Sophia’s eyes, and she felt almost as though she could see into his soul. “But I couldn’t. So, it was your mother who had to sacrifice. We went a few years with no children at all. We planned it that way.”

Warmth crept up Sophia’s cheeks.

He chuckled at her discomfiture. “Perhaps your mother should have this discussion with you.”

“Pray continue,” she said. “You tried not to have children.”

He nodded. “But then we found out Amelia was expecting. She was over the moon with happiness.” He motioned toward a garden bench and encouraged Sophia to sit with him. She did so with hesitance, not certain whether or not she was prepared to let down her guard. When he was settled beside her, he continued his tale.

“She began to use her magic again. She had no dust—they’d taken that from her when they clipped her wings.” He shook his head, sadness clouding his features. “I think it would have been easier for them to take her life than her wings. But that is not the point of this conversation.” He pressed on. “They clipped her wings. And took her dust. But she still had magic within her. She used every spare bit of it to protect you. But it wasn’t enough.”

“There was nothing anyone could do,” Sophia said. “You’d made the choice for her to leave the fae. You must accept the consequences.” She hoped she didn’t sound as bitter as she felt. She probably did. More the pity.

“They took our memories of you. It was like you never existed. Not until your mother laid eyes upon you last night.” He reached out one hand and covered Sophia’s with his. “The moment she saw you and Marcus, she knew you were ours. And so did I. It took some time for the memories to return. But now they’re there, like they’d never left.” He patted her hand. “Please accept my apology for letting them take you.”

His voice was choked again, and he got up from the bench, looked out over his garden, and didn’t look in Sophia’s direction. Perhaps he was trying to compose himself.

“Have you seen Marcus?” Sophia asked.

Lord Ramsdale, her father, nodded. “He feels very much the same way you did, I’m afraid. I spoke to him briefly, but we need to talk more.”

“It will take some time,” Sophia tried. Time. It would take a millennium. “I’m willing to try.”

He spun quickly to face her. “I’m so happy to hear that.”

“I’m not of this world, however, so I cannot stay here.”

“But you can come and go at will.” He looked… hopeful.

“Not quite at will. But on the night of the moonful, I can pass through the portal. Unless they oust me from the land of the fae, too. That is still to be determined.”

“The Duke of Robinsworth?” he asked.

She nodded.

“What is your relationship with him?”

“Do you plan to play the role of father now?” she asked.

“I plan to do more than play at it,” he said. Sophia’s heart leapt.