"Aunt Althea." I blurted as I slowly rose to my feet, watching the woman who raised me for most of my life walking toward me.
Her face wasn't filled with judgment. It wasn't filled with the disappointment I'd expected. No, instead it was filled with... Pride?
What's she proud of?
"Odessa, my dear sweet child." Aunt Althea got in front of my cell as Marcellus stepped aside for her with a smile.
She wore a purple robe with runic designs and had her black hair flowing down freely.
Althea paused at first, glancing at Marcellus briefly before she gave him a curt nod. Before I could overthink that interaction or the scrutinizing way she stared at him, my aunt stretched her arms through the metal bars and pulled me into a hug.
"I'm so sorry you have to go through any of this." She whispered, brushing my hair tenderly. "I've always wanted you to inherit the powerful magic bloodline your mother and I share. But I never expected it to manifest like..."
