clearly shone through in her tone. There was also a bit of disgust. “Do you have something against the Unseelie?” I asked.
Evonna sniffed. “You could say that.” She didn’t elaborate further.
“Yet you didn’t mind me using the necklace,” Emma objected.
“It’s an object, Emma. A tool. Nothing more.” Evonna’s lip was still curled.
“But what about my father? Anastazy?” Emma asked. “Could he have Unseelie blood?”
Evonna shrugged. “I highly doubt it. Anastazy was a Seelie fae, as far as I knew.”
“Are there any ancestors of his around that we could speak to?” I asked. “Parents, perhaps?”
Evonna hesitated. “Well... yes. Emma, your grandparents live in Dolinska. But I wouldn’t suggest you speak with them.”
“Why?” Emma asked. “They’re my blood.”
“But they are not our family,” Evonna said. “Your grandparents made it clear they hated me on sight. They didn’t want Anastazy and I to be together. It’s one of the reasons we had to run away. They know you exist, but beyond that, they’ve failed to ever reach out. I’m sure they’ll treat you with the same disgust they treated me with long ago.”
Emma was uncertain. “But they might know something about this.”
“If they do, they won’t give you any information,” Evonna replied. “I’m sorry, but you need to stay away from those people. They’re cruel. I don’t want you seeking them out only to get hurt.”
Emma frowned. “Okay.”
I leaned forward and dared to say, “I hate asking this, but is there a gravesite of Anastazy’s we could visit? It might give us clues.”
Evonna blinked. “Yes... just down the road is a graveyard. He’s buried there.”
Evonna got up from the table and walked to the countertop, where a pot of white roses grew spectacularly. She took a few out of the pot, wrapped them in paper and handed them to Emma. “Here. When you go, lay them on your father’s grave. From me.”
“Aren’t you coming?” Emma asked.
“I— I don’t think I’m ready,” Evonna said. “I’m sorry, Emma. I wish I could come with you, but—”
“It’s fine, Mom,” Emma said. “Ethan will take me.”
We thanked Evonna for the tea, then headed out. It was a short visit, but after Emma’s grandparents had been brought up, her mother didn’t seem in much mood to continue.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked as we left the cottage.
Emma nodded firmly. “Yes. I want to see my father’s grave. I deserve that right.”
“Then I will be with you all the way.” I changed into a wolven, and Emma got on my back, cradling the flowers to her chest as we bounded toward the cemetery.
The graveyard was more or less only a mile off. It said something that Evonna had chosen to live so close to the remains of her lost love. It wasn’t much— a small plot, surrounded by a fence with a few scattered mausoleums and gravestones dotted over the landscape.
Emma slid off my back and opened the wooden gate. I changed and followed behind her. Our eyes scanned the markers, until we came to a simple, square stone void of decoration or grandeur. Emma knelt down and wiped the snow covering the name.
ANASTAZY IGNACY
1980 - 2001
There was nothing more than a date and a name. No inscription, no note, nothing of who he was or what he meant to people. It felt so cold.
The wind whipped by, and Emma stared at the stone. “I thought his grave would be more... I don’t know, impressive. The way my mom talks about him, he sounds so... amazing.”
“His parents probably paid for the headstone,” I said. “If things weren’t great between them before he died, they did the bare minimum required to mark his grave.”
Emma shivered. She placed the white roses over the plot and removed the paper, stepping back into me.
“There,” she said. “It looks a little better now.”
Emma teared up. She tried to hold them back, but a few tears slipped out of her eyes.
My face twisted, and I wrapped my arms around her. “Oh, Emma.”
She turned into me, and started to sob. I felt awful— this was bringing up all kinds of churning, painful emotions from the loss of my own father, but I couldn’t break down now. Not when Emma needed me.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t even know why I’m crying. I shouldn’t be grieving someone I never even knew.”
“It doesn’t matter if you never met him. He was your father,” I said. I rubbed her back and held her close. “That’s still a loss.”