She hated him. The boy with the strange name. The boy whom her father had died for. The boy whom her father evidently cared greatly about. The boy who had learnt the fire-eating practice off her father. The boy with the handsome features, the dark eyes and the long hair. Farid. She loathed him. Her father insisted that Farid was not his son. She was sure he was lying. They were so similar that it hurt her to see them laugh together, to see them swallow flames together, to see them stroll along together, Farid excitedly telling Dustfinger about some new trick he had learnt or some pretty girl he had seen, and Dustfinger smiling and congratulating him and giving him advice. She wanted to have that closeness that Farid and Dustfinger had, that easy way in which they chatted, that feeling that they could share their innermost feelings with each other. She knew that she was being selfish, but it pained her to think that Dustfinger was closer to this Farid boy than he was to his eldest daughter. She knew that her father loved her; he had saved her from a Night-Mare, after all. And her mother Roxane had told him how much he had cared for her before he had disappeared for ten years without a trace. She had screamed at him when he returned. She was ashamed now. She should have welcomed him warmly, but instead she had screamed at him and ridden away on that fancy horse Violante got her. That boy, Farid, had told her some wild story involving Mo Folchart, aka Silvertongue or Bluejay, a book called Inkheart, her father being torn from his world by words, and Mo's daughter Meggie destroying The Shadow. She now knew that this was true, but back then she had been scathing, disbelieving, scornful. When her father had died, she had begun to hate Farid. He was the reason that Dustfinger had died. She had heard him promising her mother that he would bring Dustfinger back, and she had felt like strangling him and punching his pretty face in. That he had had the arrogance to assume that he had the power to bring her beloved father back from the dead! They had had to work together at Orpheus's household. She remembered throwing a dishcloth at him when he had mentioned Dustfinger. Orpheus had promised her that he would do all within his power to bring Dustfinger back. Had he done so? No! The Bluejay had resurrected him. Dustfinger had taken Farid from Orpheus's house. She had seen Dustfinger just before. He had smiled awkwardly, asked her to help him get Farid out and had said that for the moment he could not take her as well. She remembered him rescuing her from the Night Mare. She had cried, begged him to leave, to save himself. But he had stayed. He had saved her. She remembered the later hours, the fighting, the confusion. She had stayed with her mother to help tend to the wounded. She remembered afterwards, him embracing Farid and the Black Prince, kissing Roxane, smiling at Mo and Resa and Meggie and Jehan. Then he had spotted her. They had stood in awkward silence for a moment. She had seen Roxane and Farid out of the corner of her eye, watching them.
"Brianna" Dustfinger had said quietly. "Brianna — forgive me."
"F–f–forgive you?" she had replied, voice shaking. "FORGIVE YOU?" She had launched herself at him and found herself hugging him, sobbing into his shoulder. He had hugged her back, kissed her, stroked her hair. "I love you, sweetheart" he had whispered.
The day he and Mo had told Roxane, Brianna, Jehan and the Black Prince the truth about where he had been for ten years, Brianna had cornered her father in the kitchen and said "Tell us the truth. We deserve to know." So her father had promised to tell her and the others the truth, with help from Mo, Resa, Meggie and Farid.
"In a daydream, are we?"
The humorous voice broke into her thoughts, making her jump. She turned to see her father standing behind her, smiling.
"Hello, Father" she replied. She knew he was filled with joy whenever he heard her call him Father. "Has Mother finished cooking dinner yet?"
"Yes, she finished about five minutes ago. You were so deep in thought that we didn't want to disturb you."
Brianna smiled at him as he sat down beside her.
The next thing he said was unexpected. "You don't like Farid" he said. It was a statement, not a question.
Brianna considered this. "Well...no, not really. I think I'm jealous of him." And she launched into an explanation of why she didn't like Farid.
Dustfinger looked at her when she had finished. It seemed that he was calculating her in some way. Then he sighed and put an arm around her. "I love you, Brianna. You will always be my special little girl. Nobody can ever replace you."
And he kissed her on the cheek, helped her to her feet and led her inside. "You can come with me to Ombra Market, if you like. Just you and me for the morning. And Roxane will be visiting Resa – to check on the baby, you know – and Jehan will be playing with Prince what's-his-name. So it'll just be you and me."