Book 4: Auntie Em

Emelda

“Thank you,” I say, hurrying at a near run as a maid takes my cloak. The castle is buzzing with nervous energy but remains quiet with even the maids tiptoeing around, trying not to make a sound.

I’d remained in Ravenfell for the birth. I spent all night and most of this morning at Alma’s house, making potions and tonics to help Faye recover, which now clink together in the basket I’m carrying. I skirt around a corner and find Queen Emory talking quietly to a small group of vampire women who look like they’re part of her court, high ranking females, and nod a quick hello as I pass.

“Faye’s resting, but Michael’s in their apartment.”

“Thank you,” I tell her with a shallow bow then tear around another corner and hurry toward their quarters.

I don’t bother knocking on the door. It’s already ajar, and soft voices drift from within. The physician leaves just as I enter, but Alma’s standing in the foyer, gathering her midwifery kit.