Page 61 of The Pureblood Daughter
“I’ve been sick with worry,” Lady Gray says, pulling back from Nadia to look into her eyes. “Are you well? You’re not hurt? Sick?” Her gaze sweeps up and down, searching, seeking.
“I’m perfectly fine, Mama. Better than ever, in fact. I’m no longer sick.” She holds up her hand, and it’s perfectly steady, no sign of the trembles that plagued her for so many years. The blood—Theodore’s especially—has healed her of her many ailments, has given her freedom from the constant fatigue and dizzy spells. The blood has given Nadia her life back.
Her mother blinks at her, and tears fill her eyes once more.
“So, you’ve returned,” Lord Gray says, and Nadia stiffens at the sound of his voice.
She pulls away from her mother and sets her gaze directly upon the man she once admired, onceloved.
“I’m here for answers,” she says sharply. “Answersyouare going to give me.”
“Well, sit, my dear, and we can talk over breakfast.” He motions to a chair as if nothing has happened, as if he didn’t send as assassin to drive Theodore into his grave.
The audacity is sickening.
“I’ll do no such thing. I shan’t ever again eat at the same table as my parents’ murderer.”
Lady Gray gasps, and a shadow passes over Lord Gray’s eyes as he sets his newspaper aside.
“I beg your pardon. What lies has that family been feeding you? Don’t believe a word of that nonsense. They—”
Nadia slams a hand down on the dining table, rattling the silverware and causing the pastries to jump on their plates.
“You’ve lied to me my entire life, and I’ll not have it any longer. You killed Kirill and Vera Magdalena and took me as your own. Admit it.”
“Adelina,” Lady Gray whispers, reaching for her with a trembling hand. “What are these things you’re saying?”
“You come intomyhome,” Lord Gray says, his voice full of warning as he rises from the dining table, “and accuse me of such vile indiscretions. How dare you. Who do you think you are?”
Nadia tosses back the hem of her skirt and yanks a dagger from her boot. Her mother sits back abruptly, but Lord Gray only narrows his eyes.
A week ago, she could never have fathomed pulling a weapon on her father, but when she looks into Lord Gray’s eyes now, all she sees is a killer, and when she tightens her hand about the hilt, it doesn’t tremble.
“I am Nadia Magdalena,” she says, her voice low and strong, “daughter of Kirill and Vera Magdalena, and you will tell me the truth here and now.” She glances back over her shoulder at her mother, who’s now crying hysterically, then lowers her voice and raises the dagger. “Or I will tell Mamaeverything. I’ll tell her about your nighttime visitors, about the guild, about the vamp—”
“Enough!” Lord Gray shifts his gaze to his wife, then looks back at Nadia. As their eyes meet, there’s a moment of silence so full and all-encompassing that the pendula clock can be heard ticking in the foyer. Even Lady Gray has ceased her crying and seems to be holding her breath.
Nadia prepares to defend herself, holding the blade out ever slightly. The man standing before her is not the man she once knew, and she knows not what he’s capable of. If the assassin had killed her alongside Theodore, would Lord Gray have even batted an eye? Does he care at all for her, or was she just a gift to help his wife fill the motherhood role she so longer for?
Something changes in Lord Gray’s eyes, the fight going out of them. “Very well.” With a sigh, he shifts his gaze to his wife. “Marian, I need a moment with our daughter.”
Lady Gray gasps, then resumes crying. “You shan’t send me away. I deserve to know.”
“And you shall, but I need to speak to Adelina first.”
The name makes Nadia’s heart squeeze. Part of her wishes she could still be that young woman, could still look upon her father with admiration and go through life ignorantly happy. But that life is no more.
“Please,” Lord Gray whispers, and his pleading tone seems to stir something in his wife.
Lady Gray hiccups, still crying, and excuses herself from the room, casting one final teary-eyed look back at Nadia before slipping through the doors.
Once she’s gone, Lord Gray settles heavily into his dining chair. His shoulders seem burdened, as if they bear a great weight.
“You’re correct.” His voice is low, barely a whisper. “The guild sent me on one final mission: erase Clan Magdalena. Don’t ask me why; they don’t tell the hunters anything. But when I saw you, when I looked into your eyes...” He gets choked up, his eyes filling with tears. “I couldn’t do it. You were just a child.” Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he wipes his eyes and clears his throat. “The guild wasn’t pleased with me, but I promised them we’d make it work, and for all these years, we did. Your mother wanted nothing more than to have a child, and you were the answer to her—our—prayers.” The muscles in his jaw tense as he clenches his teeth. “I’d hoped you’d never learn the truth. We would’ve been happy. If only I’d kepthimaway from you.”
“Heis the only one who told me the truth,” Nadia hisses. “If not for him, I’d have spent the rest of my days living a lie, wasting away while playing the fool in your sick little game. And the man you sent to do your dirty work? He’s ash now, Lord Gray, and I’m the one who put the dagger through him.” Her eyes narrow. “I’ve always known you aren’t my real father, but I never would’ve dreamed you were a killer. You’re the greatest disappointment I’ve ever known.”
His eyes overflow, and his chest heaves with sobs. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Adelina—”
