Page 9 of Demon Daddy's Little Girl

But her gaze doesn't waver, and I recognize the calculation behind it - the same look she wore when first examining my garden. Every action categorized as either threat or sanctuary. One wrong move could shatter this fragile peace we've built.

Rose chatters on about a thalivern she spotted earlier, unaware of the silent exchange between adults. Her innocent joy only heightens my resolve to solve these disappearances before they can touch this household.

"More sweet roll?" I offer, pushing the plate toward them.

Ada's eyes narrow slightly at my deflection. Her fingers drum once against the table before she forces them still. "Perhaps later. Rose, careful with your water."

After lunch, Ada takes Rose for a nap. I have to promise to make lots of sparkles when she gets up to get her to go since she was looking forward to our lesson. And honestly, I was, too.

In my office, I'm halfway through reviewing patrol reports when a small movement catches my eye. Rose stands in the doorway of my study, hair still messy from sleep, her tiny frame cast in shadow from the hallway torches. Her violet eyes fix on the wall of medals and insignias behind my desk.

"Those are shiny." She steps into the room, bare feet silent on the stone floor.

I should send her back to Ada. These reports demand attention, and I don't want her to feel like I'm making her or Rose uncomfortable. Yet something in her earnest curiosity stops me. "They are."

Rose approaches my desk, standing on tiptoes to get a better view. "What's that one?" She points to a silver medallion with crossed swords.

"Combat excellence." I set down my quill. "Earned it during my first year as Captain."

"Did you fight bad people?"

"Yes." I study her delicate features, so like her father's lineage. "Many of them."

She climbs onto the chair across from my desk without invitation. "And that gold one with the funny writing?"

"Demon script. It marks fifteen years of service to the Crown."

"Can you teach me to read it?" Her eyes light up. "Mama only knows human letters."

My chest tightens at her eagerness. "Perhaps. If your mother approves."

Rose traces the air, mimicking the curved demon script. "What about the red one? It looks like fire."

"Distinguished service during the Burning of Sarziroch." The memory of flames and screams flashes through my mind. "Though that's not a pleasant story."

"Because of the bad people?" She tilts her head, violet eyes unnervingly perceptive.

"Yes." I find myself reaching for the medallion. "Sometimes doing the right thing isn't easy."

"Mama says that too." Rose leans forward, elbows on my desk. "Is that why you're helping us? Because it's right?"

The question catches me off guard. I study her innocent face, seeing echoes of the family I almost had. "Something like that."

"I like your sparkly garden better than the mean house." She picks up my quill, examining the silver filigree. "And you don't yell like grandfather did."

My fingers still on the medallion. "No one will yell at you here, little one."

"Promise?" She holds out her pinky finger, a gesture so childlike it almost breaks my carefully maintained composure.

I wrap my much larger finger around hers. "Promise."

A soft melodydrifts through the stone walls as I organize patrol schedules at my desk. The sound freezes my quill mid-stroke. Notes float through the air, carried on Ada's clear voice.

My chest constricts. Mother used to sing those same words, back when Vashti and I were small enough to believe her promises of safety. Before we learned what the world truly was.

I set down my quill, the patrol routes forgotten. Raina had hummed this same lullaby while decorating the nursery, her hands resting on her swollen belly. She'd painted stars on the ceiling, insisted our daughter would need something beautiful to dream about.

"I like the part about the flowers," Rose murmurs.

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