Thunder rumbled across the moors—a giant had made its home in the clouds. Eulalia felt it in her quivering bones.

The doorbell rang, announcing a visitor. Eulalia flinched, drawing her hand inside. The storm had begun, and someone had come to Hampstead House.

The floor outside her bedroom groaned, soon followed by Madam's cursing. "Who could that be at this ungodly hour?" She thudded down the stairs. Not too long after, the familiar noise of the front door being unlocked and opened was heard throughout the house. "Liliana," said Madam. "We weren't expecting you so soon."

Eulalia treaded to the door, pressing her whole self against it. They hardly ever had visitors. She had assumed it was someone from the orphanage come bearing more terrible news. But Liliana. That wasn't a nun's name at all.

"My, you've grown uglier in your years," Liliana said.

"Well, I—"

"Come. Come, let us go somewhere private to talk."

Another door opened as Madam took their visitor into her living room. Eulalia pushed her door open a pinch. Their voices couldn't be heard beneath the moans of the aged house. Farther down the hall, from behind the last door of the children's rooms, a set of wide, blue eyes peered out. "Harlow, come back to bed," said Lena.

Eulalia shut her door, not wanting to call attention to herself. Who could it be at this hour indeed? Madam didn't keep friends. No one ever came to Hampstead House. She paced for a while. Had more terrible news come so soon? The minutes ticked by. She figured it must have been a long-ago acquaintance. Eyes grown tired again, she crawled into bed, allowing the sound of the rain to lull her to sleep, until Madam came thudding up the stairs once more.

She hammered on Gabriel and Cosmin's door. "Get up. Get up the both of you." Then on Rowan and Fallon's door. "I've never seen such lazy children." And finally, on Harlow, Perrie, and Lena's door. "Our guest is expecting you. Don't keep her waiting. Get up."

Eulalia sat up, listening to the shuffle of feet going past her room then down the stairs. Her bedroom was the first at the stairs. She could make out the shadow of Madam's feet beneath her door. I'm coming, she thought to say, but Madam didn't give her the chance, thudding away behind the others.

Eulalia got up from her bed, changed her mind at the door, and pivoted. "I'm sure it's nothing," she said. Surely if it was Madam would have come for her too. She turned to the door again, twisted the knob and listened, waiting for Madam to yell for her.

"Is this the lot?" asked Liliana, her voice rumbling, as deep as a bottomless ocean.

"Yes, this is all of them," said Madam.

It took her a moment, but Eulalia talked herself into sneaking from her room to hide in the shadows behind the banister. The children had been lined up, smallest to biggest. The woman, Liliana, paced in front of them. She wore a deep purple cloak, longer than her tall stature, so that the edging trailed behind her like a snake made of pure velvet night.

Her hood, however, had been lowered, and there was no other way to put it that she was a beautiful woman, looking so at odds in the room she was in. If you'd plucked her out and placed her among lily flowers she'd fit in much better. All about her was light, her hair and her eyes the same fair as a lake frozen twice over.

Except for her mouth, pink as a rose bush.

Eulalia felt a rush of embarrassment for Madam, that the wallpaper had started to peel and had needed replacing long ago, and that the floorboards whined too much each time Liliana took a step.

"They're all so young," she said, stopping in front of Lena, who had her head bowed, ankles crossed, and hands knitted behind her back.

"I know," said Madam. "It was the best we could do."

She was too far in the corner for Eulalia to see her, but my how her voice quaked.

"You've done pitifully. After all the time I've given you."

"We...we tried our best, Liliana. But times have changed."

Times have changed.

Brow furrowed, Eulalia listened as hard as she could, grasping the wooden balusters tightly. What was Madam stammering about? Who was this woman? Never in the eight years Eulalia had lived at Hampstead House had Madam mentioned a Liliana.

Mother Anna and the other nuns at the orphanage had been the only other faces they ever saw. Madam didn't even keep framed pictures or albums in her living room. There was no hint of a former life as if she'd always been Madam and no one else.

Liliana strolled up and down the row of orphans, sizing them up. "You? What's your name?" She pointed her sharp, pale nail at Fallon. Lena lifted her head too.

"Fallon Livermore, Lil—"

"I didn't ask you."

Eulalia swore the ground shook when Liliana silenced Madam. They were all quiet. Not many people could silence Madam in one breath. Liliana was different. Eulalia couldn't tell how much no matter how hard she tried. The rain picked up, tapping on the windows as if they were expecting another guest. The rain would have been a more welcome visitor.

"How old are you?" There wasn't a flicker of warmth in Liliana's gaze.

"I'm sixteen, miss," said Fallon, his shoulders pole straight like Rowan's beside him.

Poor boy. He had two quarter sized holes in the heels of his socks, the soft pink of his flesh exposed. He was too tall for his pajamas, the arms and legs meant for a smaller boy. Madam didn't care for preciseness when she bought their clothes second hand. He'd grown so much in the four years he lived with them. His shoulders almost as broad as Rowan's. The boys mirrored each other in air, with as much male dominance they could muster. Fallon wasn't a shy twelve-year-old any longer.

He didn't quake under Liliana's gaze.

"Hmm." She gripped his chin with the ferocity of a hawk, clenching his jaw, tilting his head back, like how Madam had with Eulalia years before.

Eulalia gasped. She should have realized it the moment she saw the woman, with her icy hue. Liliana was her kind—a fae. No human could move the way she did. Eulalia leaned into the banister—curious and perplexed. Her father was the only full-blooded faerie she'd ever known, and he'd had more gentleness in his pinkie than Liliana in her entire being.

Fallon didn't dare squirm under her touch. Liliana tsked. "Cute." She jerked his head left then right. "You know how to fight, boy?"

"No, ma'am."

"Such a shame. What has Clara been teaching you all this time?"

"Clara?"

"The woman who took you in."

"Oh. Arithmetic, ma'am."

"Don't call me ma'am. I'm not your ma'am." She let him go, drawing her fingers into a fist. "I thought we had an understanding, Clara." Liliana continued up the row, forcing a smile at Harlow and Perrie. "What am I to do with toddlers?"

What do you want with any of us?

Eulalia gripped the neckline of her blouse, praying that Harlow wouldn't cry under the scrutiny of their guest. She was too small to understand. Thank goodness, Liliana turned, striding past Gabriel, Cosmin, and Lena to Rowan. "Well," she said, "who do we have here?" She looked him over like stylish shoes on display. "What's this one's name?"

"Rowan Sables," said Rowan.

"And how old are you?" Liliana ran her slender finger along his defined jaw, down his chin. "You smell like spring."

"Seventeen," he said.

"Almost eighteen," said Madam from her corner.

"Eighteen you say." Liliana stepped back, dissecting him down to his threadbare socks. "And you're sure this is the lot?" she asked.

Eulalia shut her eyes, expecting Madam to give her away. Clara obviously had more than one secret. "Yes, I'm sure," she said. "This is all of them."

"I'll have to do—"

"Madam! Madam!" The front door burst open. Tut scurried into the room, trekking rain and mud behind him. "I saw the lights. I thought—" His gaze flicked around at them, taking in the children lined up like figurines in their pajamas, then their guest. "I thought there was trouble," he finished, bending over, huffing to catch his breath. "Madam, are you all right?" he wheezed. "Have the children angered your pour soul?"

"Who is this foul creature?" Liliana's voice moved the floors again. She kept her distance from him, her hands tucked to her sides as if he smelled rotten.

"Tut. I'm Tut, miss." He pulled himself up straight, inhaling sharply.

"Why are you here?"

"He's the groundskeeper," Madam interjected.

Liliana chortled. "This place has a keeper. I'm surprised it's still standing." She winced at the walls.

"Yes," said Madam. "He lives on the grounds behind the house."

"Does your kind not know manners, Tut," said Liliana. "I never really cared for trolls. They make my skin crawl." She wiped her hands in her cloak as if she'd gotten dirty being in the same room as him.

"Not a troll, miss. A groundskeeper." Tut bowed deeply.

"Well, you are ugly like one." Liliana sneered at him. "Shoo. Get away from me."

"Sorry, miss. I don't mean to upset." Tut scurried around her, kneading his knuckles, to where Madam was hidden.

How dare you.

Eulalia felt a stab of empathy for him and dislike for Liliana. Cockroach or hare, no one chose how they looked. Everyone had their advantages and disadvantages, and Liliana's was a lack of compassion.

A friend of Madam's or not, who was she to come into their house and insult them? Years of Tut's dislike for Eulalia was overshadowed by Liliana's foul presence. Her legs burned from crouching in the corner, but Liliana wasn't finished.

"Back to what we were discussing before, Clara. I don't think my brother will be too happy knowing you've only scraped up this lot after all the time we've given you." She clucked her tongue. "No, he won't be happy at all, but Andris's contracts are life binding. For your years of service to our future king, we'd like to give our thanks with a small gift."

"Thank you. Thank you so much, Liliana."

"Come to me now."

"Thank you. Thank you so much." Madam traipsed from her corner, hobbling without her cane. "It's what you promised me, a chance to be beautiful," she said, sobbing. "After so long?"

"It's what you deserve. You've been so loyal." Liliana took Madam in her arms, stroking wisps of gray hairs fallen from her bun. They were equal in height, towering—commanding attention in divergent ways. "You've been so patient," she said.

"I have been patient." Madam wept. "You don't know how hard it's been keeping these children." She buried her face in Liliana's chest, sighing. "You're my angel."

Eulalia and the children were shocked into stillness by Madam's newfound tearfulness. Eulalia had never seen her cry, not even when she almost broke her hip tripping on a ragdoll Harlow had left on the floor. Madam's sobbing was a sight they might never see again so they couldn't miss it, strange as it was.

Liliana laughed. "You'll surely be certain of your miracle."

Madam kissed her fingertips. "Thank you. Thank you, my angel."

"Hush now." Liliana stroked her pale fingers down Madam's hollow cheek, silencing her sobs to shivers. "Receive your gift."

It got cold suddenly, condensing Eulalia's exhale, deadening the stink of decay in Hampstead House. Madam's eyes went as white as frost, still widened in eagerness of Liliana's proclaimed gift. She writhed. Liliana clung to her. Her hair thinned to patches. Eulalia saw her tawny scalp from where she crouched. Her skin lost its color, stretched taut, and wrinkling within forty years all in one second, beneath one faerie's touch. She crumbled to the floor, whimpering in a frail heap at Liliana's feet.

"On behalf of my brother, your debt has been paid," said Liliana.

Eulalia's clammy fingers slipped on the banister. She's not dead. She can't be.

Tut screamed, limping to Madam's help. He gathered all of her up in his arms, wailing. "What have you done?" He looked up at Liliana—solemnly—cradling Madam, rocking her. "Madam! Madam, what's she done to you?"

"You love her?" Liliana asked, putting a voice to Eulalia's thoughts.

Tut bobbed his head. "Always, miss."

Watching Tut cry over Madam's listless body, Eulalia found courage to move. "Liliana." She squeezed the banister. Using the sturdiness, she pulled herself up, appearing in the light at the top of the stairs. "You've made a mistake coming here."