Page 9 of Blood Heir

“She doesn’t remember anything,” I say flatly. “Not her name. Not me. Not you.”

Emilia perches on the arm of the leather chair like it’s a throne made for her.

“Are you sure that’s her?” she asks. “I’ve heard of people who look alike. Maybe this is a mix-up. A double.”

I shoot her a look. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

But the thought had crossed my mind. She has Fioretta’s eyes, her mouth, her voice.

And yet—she isn’t the same. She’s louder. Brighter. Unfiltered.

Emilia glides across the room slowly. “You must be stressed,” she says. “Shocked.”

Her hand reaches for my chest.

I catch her wrist before she makes contact. “I’m fine.”

She pouts. “I’m not. I’m scared, you know. She hurt me.”

“You provoked her.”

Her eyes narrow. “Whatever. You always blame me. You never care about me.”

I don’t answer that. I know her game. She throws bait, waits to be chased.

“If you’re staying here, Emilia, don't provoke her. You stay out of her way.”

She raises a hand, mock-innocent. “I won’t. She used to be my friend, remember? I have no ill intent.”

I don’t believe her. But I nod.

She leans in closer, a smile curling. “Good thing she can fight now. Maybe we’ll see who really deserves you.”

I smirk faintly. “I’m a married man.”

She steps even closer—too close. Breathes in, her nose brushing the side of my neck. Her breath is warm, sugary.

She lifts her chin, lips just inches from mine. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Then she walks away, hips swinging like a threat.

As she reaches the door, it opens—Cassian stepping through with a raised brow. Emilia tosses him a wink and meows like the predator she wishes she were.

He rolls his eyes. “The Jezebel can’t keep coming here. I don’t have enough holy water.”

She giggles down the hall.

The door shuts.

Cassian turns to me, straightening his sleeves. “The guards say Fee is back.”

I nod once. “She woke up today.”

“Does she remember anything?”

“No. Nothing. Total memory loss.”

Cassian frowns. “So what now? You gonna tell her everything?”

---