Page 50 of Demon Daddy's Nanny

But the sound that bursts from Annalise's throat catches me completely off guard. Her laughter rings through the library, bouncing off columns and ancient tomes. My wings stiffen, feathers bristling at the unexpected response.

"You're both idiots." She shakes her head, platinum hair catching the light. A knowing smile plays across her lips - one I haven't seen since she was small. "I knew the moment I saw you together the first time. It’s been so obvious."

My mouth opens, then closes. For the first time in decades, I find myself without words. Heat creeps up my neck as I remember all the times I thought we were being discreet. The lingering glances across rooms. The way Eva's presence drew me like gravity.

Annalise leans forward, her silver eyes sparking with mischief. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? Eva stops speaking mid-sentence when you enter a room. And you—" She points an accusing finger at my chest. "You smile. Actually smile. It's disturbing."

"I smile," I protest, but the words sound weak even to my ears.

"No, you scowl less intensely. There's a difference." She sits back, crossing her arms. Her wings settle into a relaxed curve behind her, golden feathers catching the sun. "Besides, Eva blushes every time someone mentions your name. It's painfully obvious."

The tightness in my chest loosens, replaced by something dangerously close to hope. But there's a shadow behind her eyes, a tension in her shoulders that tells me we're not done.

"You're... truly alright with this?" The words scrape past my throat.

Her smile falters, just for a moment. "Eva makes you human again. And she—" Annalise looks down at her hands. "She sees me. Not just as your daughter or my mother's replacement. Just... me."

The weight of years seems to lift from my shoulders. My daughter's words echo in my mind - she sees through me, through the walls I've built. A strange ache fills my chest, not entirely unpleasant. My wings shift, catching rays of afternoon sun that paint the library in warm gold.

"When did you become so perceptive?" I lean forward, studying her face—really looking at her for perhaps the first time in years. The sharp angles of her cheekbones, the knowing glint in those silver eyes so like her mother's. But there's something uniquely Annalise there too, a strength I never noticed before.

"Someone had to be." She traces the spine of her book, a habit she's had since childhood. "You were too busy brooding in your office to notice much of anything."

The barb stings, but there's no real venom behind it. Her wings flutter slightly - a tell she's never learned to control. She's nervous, despite her brave front.

"So it doesn’t bother you then?” I scrub at my jaw. “That Eva might be…more than just here to work.”

She shakes her head, and I nod, not sure what else to say.

"You're doing it again," Annalise says.

"Doing what?"

"That thing where you almost smile but catch yourself." She leans back, crossing her arms. "It's okay to be happy, you know. Mother would have wanted that."

The mention of Sera doesn't cut as deeply as it once did. Perhaps Eva has healed more than just my heart - she's helped heal this rift between my daughter and me, without even trying.

"I like to think so, too,” I say softly, and for once, it feels right. Annalise and I can both love Sera - and still love Eva.

And that’s what this is. I love her.

30

EVA

Istand at the window of Ridwan's chambers - our chambers now after months of spending nights together - watching golden sunlight spill across New Solas's crystalline spires. My fingers trace the intricate patterns carved into the windowsill, each whorl and curve a reminder of the opulent world I've stepped into. A world that still feels like an elaborate dream I might wake from at any moment.

The sheets on our bed still carry his scent, that mix of smoke and citrus that makes my heart race. My things have found their way between his - my worn leather-bound recipe book beside his military texts, my simple cotton nightgown draped over his silk robes. The contrast is stark, a visual reminder of the gap between our worlds.

"You're doing it again." Annalise's voice cuts through my thoughts. I turn to find her leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in that way that makes her look so much like her father.

"Doing what?"

"That thing where you stare off into space and wonder if you're good enough for him." She pushes off the door and stridesinto the room, her movements carrying that natural grace she inherited from both parents. "It's getting old."

"I wasn't?—"

"Please." She drops onto the velvet chaise by the window. "I've watched you two dance around each other for months. Now he's finally stopped being an idiot, and you're still second-guessing everything."

---