Eva's POV
"I am glad you are recuperating," my father expressed. As he sat beside me in the royal infirmary the next morning. Vivianne and Vincent had paid me a visit the previous day. Although it was very obvious that mother forced them, I still appreciated it all the same.
"Thank you, father," I replied.
"It is strange," he said out of nowhere.
"What father?" I asked.
"It has been almost a decade since witches have done something so bold." His piercing gaze held little comfort to me. I had to look away.
"Really?" The fact that I knew who was responsible at least to an extent was weighing on my conscience.
Then he shrugged and held my hand, squeezing it slightly. The heat was getting bearable. "It is a shame that they chose your special night to strike, I am sorry, dear,"
"What for, father?"
"I could not protect you," his gaze lowered as though he felt guilt. "Again."
