WALPURGIA ✔️

Chapter 47 - Hybrid daughter

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"I often forget about my needs too. Esme is my priority."

"How couldn't she be? Rebecca, she's perfect!"

It was our sixth day here, and with every day I grew more nervous Genevieve would find us. Baldwin wasn't.

I suspected he wished she would show up, so he could have a 'chat' with her.

Esme strolled by, coming out of one room with my wand, then went into the next. She was exploring the house again.

"For a hybrid, yes. As a witch or vampire? She isn't. A lively vampire, a dead witch." My nervousness showed.
"A dangerously powerful combination."
"You only see the good things, don't you?"
"I only met her; of course I do." He was right.

I had tried to ignore them too, but after five years it just isn't easy to do so anymore.

Baldwin kissed me, then looked into my eyes. "The moment we are back home, we have to teach her about our times. Her true present."
"Of course."
"And we have to make her feel even more loved."

"And raise her properly."
Baldwin nodded heavily. "We need to go back to our old lives. I need to change a few things now that I'm married - and a father."

His hand traced my still flat stomach. It would be so for a long while.

Evenings like this always took a serious turn.

Baldwin took my hand and moved us to the couch.

He seated me on his lap, stroking my hair.

After a few silent moments before the storm, he finally spoke what I didn't want to hear.

"I don't worry about Esme. She'll adapt quickly. We have to worry about her nature though. We need to enrol her in a creature's school. Control is vital."

I nodded. He was right; no matter the creature it was necessary. "When?", I whispered. I didn't want my girl to grow up this quickly.

"The moment she reaches the age."
13.

"8 more years", I mumbled, looking down at my hands.

I remembered the times I held our baby in my arms.

"Genevieve thought she might turn out to be a good defender", tears rose to my eyes. "Baldwin, I don't want her to fight. I don't want her to mingle with death."

"If it's truly in her blood, then she will eventually."
"You noticed?"

"Witch's blood sings."
I broke down.

"It's not your fault."
"What if she messes with death? What if curses come naturally to her? What if her first spell harms somebody instead of healing them? Baldwin, I'm scared!"
"Because she isn't the first weaver in centuries", Baldwin pressed me against him.

"That's not what bothers me! I'm still proud of her, no matter what kind of witch she is! I'm just ..."

"Worried", he finished.

That I was.

"But nonetheless she is a formidable witch with a good heart. I would say she reaches your level of craft."
"Only a different path", I sniffled. I hoped I wouldn't wake her. "What if I can't protect her? What if she goes where we can't follow?"

"Then we believe in her", Baldwin's tight grip showed he feared that too. "She's our daughter. She is being raised by two normal parents, not lunatics. If Esme has the mindset of a black mage; blood, gore, curses, death, violence, war, and her craft follows that, then we can be reassured nothing will go wrong."
"How can you know that? What if it lures her into depths she can't come back from?"