Emilia’s POV
I watched Francesca dart ahead of us, her curls bouncing as she ran toward the playground. She was all energy and excitement, a bundle of joy that seemed to radiate life in a way that made it impossible not to smile.
Alaric walked beside me, his hands in his pockets, looking out of place in his casual clothes. He was dressed in dark jeans and a simple black t-shirt that somehow made him look even more intimidating than his usual suits. He hadn’t said much since we left the house, but that was typical of him.
“Francesca,” he called, his voice softer than usual. “Don’t go too far.”
She turned and gave him a thumbs-up before resuming her sprint toward the swings. I smiled at her enthusiasm, feeling a rush of warmth. This was a side of her I didn’t get to see often—a carefree
