Seeing Alastair again after centuries apart was not something that Hilda could ever prepare herself for, and that much was clear in the way a gasp fell from her involuntarily as she stepped into her office. There was a moment where she could do nothing but look at him and feel three-hundred years' worth of memories rush back, all of them as fresh and raw as though they it had been just yesterday he had left her alone.

His blue eyes were just as calm as they always had been—the opposite of Maksim's, though he the same shade of blue—as he stood up from the chair behind the desk. He had been reading a leather-bound book belonging to the bookshelf behind him, and now he dropped it on the desk, its contents long forgotten. It felt as though everything had been covered in ice, including the two of them, and neither of them could do anything to thaw it. She could hear her heart echoing in her ears.

With a sharp inhale, she shut the door, if not for privacy than for the excuse to turn away from him for a moment.

"Alastair," she finally acknowledged. "You came."

"You did not think I would?" he questioned, tilting his head in a way that reminded her of Ackmard. Nothing had changed. He was still the same man she had fallen in love with, the same man she had raised two children with. He still had his hair ruffled in the same unkempt style, and still crossed his hands behind his back after debating awkwardly where else they could go. She knew him too well, knew all of his mannerisms and the reasons behind them, and it pained her enough that she had to look away from him.

"I think your record for turning up has been rather patchy of late," she retorted through pursed lips, "considering the fact, of course, that I have not seen you in over two hundred years."

He lowered his eyes at this and attempted to hide his grimace. "There is much I regret, Hilda. You know that."

"I know nothing. How could I when you were not here?"

He sighed, leaning a hand on the corner of Hilda's desk and nudging the book he had abandoned. She eyed it warily, imagining the fingerprints he would leave behind on the pristine wood, the creases in the pages where his long and inelegant fingers had been. "You are right. Still, you are hardly Parent of the Year yourself. I was stupid enough to think you had only tainted one of our children, but all of them have darkness in them."

She paled, the sting of his words causing her to look up and meet his gaze again. "How dare you? I would never leave them the way that you did, not even now. Besides, not all of them have swayed from the light."

"No?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and nodding to something behind Hilda. "I am surprised you have not already noticed the patch of carpet charred by Maksim's magic. Perhaps you are losing your skills of observation in your old age."

Frowning, Hilda turned around and searched the crimson carpet. It did not take her long to see it: in the corner, below a narrow window, the edges of the carpet curled as though they had been burnt, and the old dusty floorboards were visible in its stead. She treaded closer and knelt when she reached the fresh scar, tracing her fingers through the black dust caking the floor. It was true; the carpet had been burned to a crisp, with cracks snaking through the plaster of the walls, too.

The smell was still metallic, though—not rotten, like black magic.

"What makes you think this was Maksim?" she questioned, standing up and wiping her hands of the dirt. She thought back to her son's recent short temper, and the way she had noticed his fists furling and unfurling often, as though he was filled with a constant anger. She had known something was wrong, but assumed it was simply something to do with Remy or his siblings. "His magic has always been light."

"It was not today," Alastair responded solemnly, shaking his head. "I saw it, Hilda. His magic was grey, cloudy. It was not black, not yet, but it was certainly not the same as it once was. He is battling shadows, I fear."

"And he will not let them win." Her voice was filled with certainty. "Maksim is not like Ackmard. He is stronger, better, than that. He would sooner die than turn to the darkness."

"That is what I fear."

"You do not have a right to fear anything." She narrowed her eyes and stepped towards her husband, the sharp heels of her shoes digging into the carpet with a new force. "I will handle Maksim, and then I will get Ackmard and Erika back. You stopped having the right to anything to do with my children when you walked away from them."

"I walked away because I knew this day would come." Anger contorted his features, a wave of dull brown hair falling in front of his eyes. "I could not watch the darkness encroach upon our children. I stood by and watched it do the same to you for too long, and all it ever did was destroy the life we were supposed to have. I am sorry, Hilda, for I should have been a better father, a better husband, but I could not cope with the fear I felt, knowing there would always be a chance that Ackmard and Maksim would have the same fate as Erika. Knowing—"

A knock on the door interrupted him. Hilda gulped as Alastair regained his composure, straightening from his defensive stance. His red robes rippled as he took another step back, turning to the window.

"Who is it?" she called, forcing her voice not to crack.

Without invitation, the door opened and Remy's head peeped through it timidly.

Hilda scoffed in annoyance. "What on Refilyn do you want now? Have I not dedicated enough of my day to you?"

Remy frowned, her eyes shifting to Alastair, though his back was still turned and his head bowed. As though sensing that he was being watched, he spun around expectantly. From the look of recognition on her face, it was clear she sensed that Alastair was not just a friend. It would be difficult even for her not to notice the likeliness he held to Maksim and Ackmard.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt," she said quietly. "It's just that Maksim said you'd have something for me to wear to the funeral. I didn't realise I'd be staying for a red-tie event."

"Yes," she nodded dismissively. "Just give me a moment."

The door swung shut as though Remy had been eager to leave, and the room was silent again. It was Alastair who finally spoke, his eyes round as he gawped at the door as though he could still see Remy through the wood.

"That was a mortal," he stated. "What on Refilyn is a mortal doing here?"

"She is important to Maksim," Hilda said tersely. "Something, perhaps, you would know if you had ever made an effort to remain in his life."

She left her office before Alastair could reply, and only then could she allow the air to flow back into her lungs again.

[AN: I'm back! I have three weeks off uni for easter break so I should be updating regularly for at least that amount of time now. I might even try for twice a week, and I'm definitely hoping to update again tomorrow as I've missed a good few weeks of updates. I don't know why but I really enjoyed writing this chapter, so I hope you guys like it, too. Also idk if I mentioned it in the last AN but spellbound reached 20k and I genuinely can't believe it!! thanks so much guys]