Charlotte supposed she couldn’t blame him. Dr. Ramsay had a very busy couple of months recently, under intense media scrutiny. Her assurances, written and verbal, had done quite a bit to quell the public post-Pope Lick Monster panic. The headlines became less apocalyptic. The social media posts became marginally more reasonable. Markets stabilized. Charlotte had an enormous amount of respect for Jillian, particularly the icy dignity with which she testified before Congress, while very politely telling them that proposing registries to deal with the magique instead of, say, having a conversation with said magique was an act of self-destructive incompetence.

Like Jillian, who had also used that same glacial gravitas to inform the political types that it was “none of their business” what sort of magie she was, Charlotte’s family had elected not to publicly announce that Charlotte and her mother, Lizzie, were a type of Romanian fae called zana. Not because the McBees were afraid of being hurt, but because they were afraid that Lizzie’s patients and their families would decide they didn’t want to be treated by a magie. In a location as secluded and remote as Waller Forge, Tennessee, that could be dangerous for pregnant women, human or magie.

Compared to a lot of modern fae she knew, Charlotte had enjoyed a relatively idyllic childhood–stable, living in one place, with both parents. Her mother was a midwife as were her ancestors, all the way down the line back to the old country before deforestation drove them across the Atlantic. Her Granny’s services were so in demand in Baby Booming Appalachia, people didn’t ask a lot of questions. They just wanted their babies born safe and healthy. Charlotte was fortunate that there was enough human blood in her line that she didn’t have the typical fae metal allergies or the “strange spinal abnormalities.” (Also known as wings.)

Lizzie McBee saw it as the family duty to provide humans with a peaceful, safe path into the world. She delighted in bestowing lifelong gifts on babies. Charlotte saw it as a heap of pressure. What if she picked the wrong gift? What if the child was meant to be a world-saving scientist and Charlotte gave her a beautiful singing voice–which was nice and all, but so was a cure for cancer. So Charlotte tried to give babies the gifts they would need in this strange, turbulent world–courage, strength, determination, and the ability to know when to abstain from social media. Let other fairies worry about temporary things like beauty and talent.