7
Alaric’s POV
I stepped into the house, a frown forming on my face at how quiet the house was. And it made me very very uneasy. Normally, by the time I stepped through the door, Francesca’s laughter would echo down the hall, and I’d catch glimpses of Emilia chasing her around, a small, stubborn smile always tugging at her lips. But tonight, it was so quiet, almost as if something was wrong.
I hung my coat by the door and glanced around, half-expecting Emilia to appear, carrying Francesca in her arms or perhaps ushering her to bed. But instead, when I found them, Emilia barely looked up. She sat with Francesca on the couch, brushing through her silver hair with a gentleness that looked at odds with how stiff her shoulders were.
“Daddy!” Francesca squealed, but she didn’t get up from t
