Unbound (The Captive #7)

The garden had been empty when she’d looked out earlier, but it was so large that someone could wander it for hours, enjoying the numerous flowers and trees, before ever making it to the center.

Xavier didn’t question her, but she could feel his curiosity mounting as he walked by her side through the rows of privet, fruit trees, roses, lilacs, lilies, and other numerous plants. At the end of the pathway, Aria stopped when she spotted a woman standing before the fountain. The woman had her head tipped back and her hands clasped behind her back as she gazed at the figures in the center.

Aria stood and stared at the woman in the flowing, deep blue gown that hugged her rounded figure and spilled across the earth around her. Her wheat-colored hair had been cut into a bob a couple inches above her shoulders. Aria could see nothing of her features as her back was to them, but if this woman was who Aria believed her to be, then the woman’s eyes were blue.

“Stay here,” Aria said to Xavier, and he shot her a disgruntled look. “Please.”

He glanced at the woman before bowing his head. Aria made her way forward. “Milly?” The woman remained gazing at the fountain, lost in a deep reverie. “Camille?”

The woman stiffened; her clasped hands fell away from her back as she turned. Her mouth parted when she spotted Aria. She dipped into a graceful curtsy that would have had Aria sprawling on her ass, as her feet were twisted awkwardly and she was off balance when she made the move.

“Your Highness,” she greeted.

“Please rise,” Aria said quietly.

The woman rose before her. Aria’s gaze skimmed over her beautiful features before settling on her clear, aqua-colored eyes.

“I didn’t mean to intrude. I thought these gardens were open to the public,” she said hastily.

“They are,” Aria replied as she stopped before her. “You are Camille.”

The woman’s face became composed, but Aria sensed her distress. “My name is Milly,” she replied.

“But you were once called Camille.”

Her rosebud lips compressed for a minute before she spoke again. “Many lifetimes ago, yes.”

“Your sister was Genny.”

Tears filled her eyes before she wiped them away. “How do you know that?”

For a minute, Aria couldn’t speak. When her fingers had fallen upon the intricate design in Tempest’s gown that had resembled a G, she’d dimly recalled what Atticus had written in his journal. His cousin, Merle, had run into Camille many years ago in a place called Paris. Camille had been designing clothing at the time.

“She seemed happy enough,” Merle had told him. “But she told me she misses Genny every day and she actually hides a little G in every piece of clothing she creates.”

Aria hadn’t dared to hope it could actually be a G she’d discovered instead of some random formation within the lace, but she’d still been drawn to seek out the woman who had created the dress. She had to know. This was the one vampire in all the world Atticus had still had some care for throughout his life, the only one he’d sought to protect.

“Atticus kept journals,” Aria said to her, and Camille made a choked sound. “He also kept your sister’s journals.”

“All these years,” Camille whispered.

“He loved her very much.”

“He did. More than I’d ever believed possible for two people to love each other. Because of what I saw between the two of them, I’ve waited my whole life for that kind of love and will continue to wait. Atticus was once a very good man.”

“I know,” Aria said.

“He was once my friend, my brother. What they did to Genny broke him.”

“I know,” Aria said again and rested her hand on Camille’s arm.

The woman looked amazed by the gesture. “Yes, from what I’ve seen and heard, you would know what it’s like to be loved and to love like that.”

“Atticus continued to try to look out for you over the years.”

“I know. It’s why I’m still alive. His men found me in India and brought me to safety before he destroyed much of the world. I stayed in a town a couple hundred miles away while he lived, but decided to move here after he passed. I wanted to see his children. I’d heard they were happy, that they loved deeply and were loved in return. I had to see that at least a piece of him had survived and found the joy Atticus and Genny were denied.”

Aria found it difficult to speak around the lump in her throat. “The journals, if you would like them, I think they belong to you.” She would remove the information about Melinda’s true parentage from them, but Camille deserved to have them.