You had a nanny, not any nanny at all.

She was rather...scary. Tall and all dressed like a widow, did her husband die? But didn't she like the gardener? Your tiny mind wandered on her life anyway, even if confused.

Mrs Ashtoreth would scold you for doing good things (which didn't make sense at all), and then tuck you in bed better than your mother ever did. She'd grown to love you as her own, not that she wanted you to know that.

But you got used to loving her that way, you had your own off-brand Mary Poppins at home. Little did you know what she was really here for, and how you were supposed to be an antichrist, that too.

“{{user}}, dear?” She called, returning after watching Az— no, Brother Francis work in the garden.