Indebted Epilogue

Nila’s black eyes met mine. We’d been together for such a short amount of years, yet it felt like she’d been mine for eternity. I would never grow sick of waking with her in my bed, or sharing my breakfast with her by my side, or helping her sew late at night even though her needles drew more of my blood than I liked.

I love you.

She beamed. I know.

Tearing my gaze from hers, I dropped to my haunches and motioned Emma to come closer. It was surreal to protect and raise children named after two people who had meant the world to us; two people who’d died in the war between our houses. Kestrel had adopted some of my brother’s quirks, but not all, and Emma doted on Textile in a way that made me wonder if she suffered a little of my condition.

There was no avoiding the avalanche of love and underlying despair from Tex that his wife wasn’t there to see her grandchildren grow. Emma would hold his hand and sit quietly on his lap, plastering up his hurt with quiet affection.

Taking my daughter’s hand, I looked toward the outskirts of the room. My sister-in-law, Jacqueline, lingered in the background. She’d come for a few days to celebrate Emma’s birthday but couldn’t shake the wariness the Hall invoked in her. Hawksridge had not been kind to the Weavers, and she hadn’t accepted her lineage that easily.

Nila and Vaughn had gone out of their way to welcome Jacqueline into their midst, but she’d been raised differently. She’d been a single child in a stuck-up family. She didn’t know how to handle large gatherings—and in that respect, I could relate.

We had happier times when we visited her in Cornwall—where Jacquie lived with her husband. There, on her own turf, her emotions were relaxed and confident while she lavished her little niece and nephew with love and antidotes.

She was a good aunt. However, her spiky black hair couldn’t be any different to Nila’s river of ebony. She shared the same eyes, same figure, same liquid grace, though.

Nila and Vaughn grew up believing they were twins; to find out they were triplets had taken some getting used to. However, the underlying history and mystery kept a moat from forming an intricate bond just yet.

In time, it would form. Nila would eventually warm her sister and help her dispel the remorse that she wasn’t there to help. Shame was a powerful thing and Jacqueline couldn’t shake the regret that she’d been firstborn by a few minutes, yet she hadn’t paid the debt.

She didn’t even fully understand the ramifications of the debt. Didn’t care to dive too deep into history.

My heart thundered. If Jacqueline hadn’t been secreted away and hidden, she would’ve been mine, not Nila. And the end to the Debt Inheritance might’ve been completely different, because even though I tolerated Jacqueline, I didn’t connect with her. Her emotions were scatty and undeveloped compared to her sister. She would never have had the power to reach into my ice and shatter me from its hold.

My arms itched to hug Nila again. To thank her. To love her for being her.

So I did.

Straightening from my crouch, I quickly embraced my wife before dropping back to my haunches in front of Emma.

Nila accepted my hug with a soft smile, almost as if she’d followed my thoughts.

Emma smelled of cheese puffs and sausage rolls from the special treat for her birthday dinner. “Did you enjoy riding Hocus Pocus today?”

Emma clapped her hands. “I did. She’s amazing. Can I go again? Right now?”

I swam in her infectious energy. “Not tonight. Tomorrow. We’ll all go for a ride over the chase.”

“Can we bring the birds? And the hounds? And Nemo?”

“Nemo?”

Emma looked at Nila. “You said you’d ask, Mummy.”

Nila rolled her eyes affectionately. “Nemo is Emma’s name for a kitten we saw advertised in the village. I told her we had more than enough pets.” Ruffling her hair, she smiled. “You just got a pony. That’s enough animal presents.”

Emma pouted. I tensed against childish demands, but she balanced her emotions with such maturity, that pride washed through me.

“I know. Hocus is amazing.” Leaning in, she pecked my cheek. “Thank you, Daddy.”

My heart shattered with love.

It’d taken almost a year to source the perfect foal for Emma. I’d ordered a filly from the breeder who’d given me the colt for Kes.

At almost eight years old, Kes had become a proficient rider and rode with me daily, trotting beside me, cantering with courage, exploring the borders of Hawksridge as I taught him the value of land and heritage. Now, Emma could join us on her midnight filly called Hocus Pocus.

Letting Emma’s sticky hands go, I reached into my back pocket for the box. Passing it to her, the room quieted as I kissed her soft cheek. “This will mean more to you when you’re older, but I wanted you to have it now. Promise me you’ll take great care of it and never lose it.”

Her black hair bobbed as she nodded furiously. “I promise.”

I laughed softly as she grabbed the red box and cracked it open. She had enough experience opening jewellery boxes. One of her favourite places was Diamond Alley and raiding Nila’s precious collection. She said she wanted her mother’s collar—even tried to pry it off one day with a nail file. Little did she know that it would’ve been on her little neck if she’d been born to another man in another time with the Debt Inheritance still in affect.

She was a Weaver girl. But now that name didn’t come with such a curse.