She stared at him, completely confused by the churning emotions in her gut.

“You look exactly the same.”

He gave her a wry smile. “Part of the package, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

He had no response, only nodding as he continued to stare at her.

“Grandma’s doing okay?”

“Yeah. You know about Grandpa, right?”

“Yes. I… uh.” Stephen cleared his throat the same way he always had when he was nervous. “I heard a few months after he passed away. But Tenzin said Mom got remarried earlier this year?”

“Yeah.” She gestured toward Giovanni. “Gio’s friend… well, kind of his son. But not a vampire son. But he raised Caspar, so he’s like his son. But he’s not a vampire. I mean, that would be weird, because he’s old. Like Grandma. Well, a little younger. They’re good. Great, really. Really in love and… happy. They’re really happy.” Beatrice couldn’t seem to stop rambling, and her father was looking at her the same way he had when she would tell him a story as a child.

“I’m happy for her.” Stephen nodded. “Tenzin has nice things to say about Caspar. And Giovanni, too.”

She wanted to hug him. She wanted to hit him. Beatrice wanted to break down in tears and beg his forgiveness for her childish anger when he left. Then, she wanted to scream at him for putting her life in danger so many times.

“I don’t know what to say to you,” she choked out.

His eyebrows furrowed, and she saw a pink tear slip out of the corner of his eye as he shrugged his shoulders.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. I’m kind of enjoying just sitting across from you right now.”

She fought back tears and twisted her hands together. “There’s just… so much. There’s so much that’s happened. I’m really different than I was when I was little. And you’re…”

“What?”

“You’re just the same! But you’re not. I just—I don’t know who you are anymore.”

Stephen nodded and took a deep breath before he spoke in a hoarse voice. “I know it’s confusing, Beatrice. And I know we have a lot—a lot to talk about, but… I’m still me, Mariposa. I’m still me. And I love you so much. That has never changed.”

Tears rolled down her face, and her father held out a tentative hand.

“Dad—” she cried before she stood up and met his arms as he embraced her.

His hands were cool when they brushed the hair out of her eyes and tucked her head under his chin as he had when she’d had nightmares as a child. She felt the rush of energy as Giovanni sped toward her side. He didn’t pull her away, but Beatrice felt his quiet presence at her back as her father rocked her silently.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered.

“I missed you, too. More than I could ever say.”

Beatrice let him hold her as she soaked the front of his grey robes with her tears. After a few minutes, she heard him softly singing a lullaby she remembered from childhood.

“A los ninos que duermen, Dios los bendice…” His low voice took her back to the small bedroom where she’d grown up. The children who sleep, God bless them…

“A los padres que velan, Dios los asiste,” she whispered along, remembering the old words as if he’d sung them to her the night before. The fathers who watch them, God helps them…

“I missed you every day, Beatrice. Forgive me for putting you in danger. Forgive me—”

“Don’t,” she said, pulling back and wiping her eyes. “Don’t start apologizing for that. This has all been…” She shook her head. “I know it’s not your fault, Dad.”

She saw her father glancing over her shoulder and knew he was looking at Giovanni. She could feel his heat radiating on her back and knew her lover was showing enormous self-control to be standing still instead of whisking her away. Giovanni hated to see her cry. It seemed to disturb him on a very deep level, and he often reacted in anger toward the perceived cause. Feeling for his hand, she grasped it and pulled him closer.

“I think Beatrice needs some answers, Tenzin.” She heard Giovanni speak in a low voice as he pulled her away from her father and into his arms. She kept hold of Stephen’s hand for a moment, squeezing it before she retreated into Giovanni’s embrace.

“What were you two arguing about?” She sniffed. “It better not have been about me.”

“Of course it was.” Tenzin snorted. “You know how he is.”

Tenzin walked over and motioned toward a grouping of plush cushions on the far side of the room. A small fountain trickled in the corner, and Giovanni sat next to it, pulling Beatrice into his lap as Tenzin and Stephen sat across from them.

“Tell her how long.”

Beatrice’s eyes narrowed at her friend. Tenzin sat, perfectly relaxed and looking like the queen of her own personal castle. Which, in a way, she was. The palace complex was two-tiered, and Tenzin’s rooms took up a full half of her father’s buildings. Giovanni had explained it as they walked out of the Great Hall, trying to distract her from her whirling emotions.

The two earth Elders and their clans stayed below ground in a complex series of caverns that had been dug thousands of years before. The four wind and water Elders each took a wing of the outer palace walls with their retinues; and Mistress He and Elder Lan, the two fire vampires, lived in smaller homes within the palace walls, since they preferred to keep less company.