MAYBE I SHOULD have embraced him, or yelled at him, or even cried. But all I felt as I looked at my supposed father, was nothing.

I felt absolutely no emotion towards him, because there was no reason to feel anything. He had never been there for me. He had never treated me as his daughter.

If anything, I was a burden.

Be he a god, a higher being or any figure of authority —all I saw was a lousy father, and better yet, a stranger. I had no attachment to him.

"...If I was such a problem for you, why did you come back?" I asked instead.

Quetzalcoatl stared back at me with equal indifference. "You were not a problem...only a mere inconvenience. It wasn't that I did not want to care for you —I just simply wasn't allowed to."

"What do you mean?" I frowned. "And...why are you speaking English? None of the other gods did."

"You are hearing me as you wish to," he explained. That only confused me further. If I was eager to understand him now, why had I not been before?

Did I not want to hear them?

"As for your previous question," he then went on, "when I fell in love with your mother for the first time, I understood that I was being unbelievably selfish. Who was I to court your mother as though I were mortal? As though we had a chance at a life together?"

"I suppose I can understand that," I sighed. "But if you...if you are the same snake that has been haunting me through all of my past lives, just how long has this all been reoccurring?"

"Since I first met her."

I inhaled sharply.

A slight smile stretched his lips. "So you solved the mystery. History keeps repeating itself."

My eyes widened. "You kept looking for the reincarnation of my mother in every lifetime?"

He nodded. "I wanted...I wanted to prove to her that I did care, even if it was profoundly unfair. She never turned me away. I think that she knew, and consequently accepted our doomed dance of fate."

"And you had to drag me along with the both of you," I scoffed. "How selfish indeed."

"I never meant for your lifeline to become to entangled with hers," he protested. "But I can assure you, that the curse is not my fault."

That was news to me. I thought that I could finally be over and done with it —but if it wasn't Quetzalcoatl's doing, what lead did I have now?

"Oh?" I deadpanned. "Whose is it?"

He hesitated. "...I think it would be best to hear it from the culprit," he said quietly.

"Will you tell me who it is or not?" I huffed.

"I cannot," he sighed. "I am bound by blood and magic to keep my lips sealed. But...I can tell you," he said gently, "that there is one who you should not trust. One who deceives. One who tricks."

His answer was painfully vague, but I supposed that I wouldn't get much out of him besides that.

"I have to figure it out for myself, don't I?" I murmured. "It's something I have to face alone."

"Indeed," he confirmed.

"And what about Lorenne Dench?" I then questioned, before my cheeks flushed involuntarily. "Why...is she always there?"

"I thought that you already solved that one," Quetzalcoatl smiled, his head tilted to the side.

I bit my lip, thinking back to when I was Meya.

Soulmate, she had said.

I thought about the lives before, about the two of us. No matter who we had been and from where we had come, we always found each other. Even if we were killed for it. Is that what soulmate really meant? To be joined together, no matter the life or reality?

It began to sound rather familiar, in light of that Quetzalcoatl had just told me about my mother.

"...You and my mother," I then said slowly, realisation dawning on me. "Were you soulmates?"

The word seemed to burn something within him, and he inhaled sharply in response. "...She doesn't know. I couldn't dare to restrict her in that way."

I pressed my lips into a line. I had always wondered why, despite what my father had done to the two of us, she had still loved him. It made sense now.

She was completely blinded by love.

"If I accept Lorenne as my soulmate," I said carefully, "will all of this keep happening? Will we just keep finding each other, and end up hurting?"

"No one said that having a soulmate was a good thing," Quetzalcoatl said ominously.

"Why do we hold it in such high esteem then?" I frowned. "It's so romanticised among humans."

"Precisely," he mused. "Your lives are so short; you have no real concept of time. So when something that sounds so whimsical and out of your control like having a soulmate, instinct drives you to worship it."

"Would you consider it a curse?" I deadpanned.

Quetzalcoatl had no answer for me. But his downcast silence was an answer in itself.

I wondered if it made me a terrible person for feeling nothing about this —about him, and my mother. I did not understand, even with a soulmate of my own, how you could give everything for someone. Over and over, lifetime after lifetime.

Perhaps I had not fallen in love enough yet.

"...The name that I gave you was Meshaya," said Quetzalcoatl suddenly.

I blinked. That was rather random. Then I processed what he had said. He had named me. What a fatherly thing to do. "...In what life?" I asked.

He smiled, with a warm simmering affection in his eyes. "Every life," he whispered.

The mortal world materialised around me again, with the snake and smoke nowhere to be found.

The tension eased as everyone righted themselves and breathed sighs of relief.

I wanted to dwell on the conversation I had had with Quetzalcoatl, but the time period I was stuck in wouldn't allow me that luxury.

"How did you manage that?" Lily asked me.

"I just spoke to it," I quipped.

Lord Hugo obnoxiously straightened his blazer jacket with a huff, before daring to say, "I knew that you would be able to get rid of it, witch."

I snarled and shot him a glare, but the Lady suddenly grabbed me by the shoulders before I could say anything, and pulled me aside.

"Lord Hugo, we beg your pardon for this incident." Her nails then dug into my skin as she said, "I'm sure that my daughter had no intention of putting us in harm's way. And she managed to right things again."

"You would consider that a win?" I scoffed.

"Hush your mouth," the Lady said curtly as she let go and sidestepped me to address Lord Hugo. "So, if you would still take my daughter's hand, I would be eternally grateful," she said softly.

Lord Hugo's eyes drifted to me.

My attention was on Vincent, who was standing too close to Lily, with his hand on her shoulder. He was ushering them to leave. I studied the footman's expression; the way he leaned towards her cheek, and the light in his eyes. Eyes that then turned to meet mine.

"You," I breathed. "You were the spy."

The room stilled.

Vincent raised an eyebrow as he leaned away from my handmaiden. "Excuse me?" he said calmly.

"You got yourself close to Lily so that she would tell you about us," I accused. "And then you broke that trust between you on Lord Hugo's command. All because you want her for yourself."

The Lady gasped, along with Lily, who then quickly darted to my side. Vincent didn't defend himself. He straightened his jacket and smirked slightly. "I did not realise that I was that transparent," he mused smugly.

I clenched my fists. "So you won't even deny it?"

"Why would I?" he quipped. "It's perfectly obvious."

Lily whimpered and held onto my shoulders. I stared Vincent down. "Maybe —but one thing isn't obvious. Why would you do this? I have been nothing but kind to you. What did Lord Hugo pay you?"

"I am not that cheap," he scoffed.

"What information do you possibly have on him?" I then addressed Lord Hugo.

The Lord shrugged lazily. "It was nothing like that. In fact," he mused, "in regards to you calling him a bastard earlier —you would be correct."

I frowned, as it took me a moment to realise it. "...Vincent is your illegitimate son."