‘He’ll be on his way toThe Sombra’sinfamous prison,’ Mak rasped. ‘We’ll bury him so deep in isolation he won’t see or hear from another human for years.’
Shiloh’s eyes met Saba’s. She gave her a sad smile.
‘Nada, don’t feel any compassion for him, nor for Sylvana or Zsófia. They don’t deserve our mercy,’ Saba muttered.
‘I get it,’ Shiloh conceded.
Mak moved to Saba’s side, and she rose, stepping into his arms, maneuvering around his bandaged hand and sling.
Shiloh did the same, falling into Zolan’s embrace.
They stood in the silence that ensued, drawing comfort from their partners after a tumultuous and draining day.
Until hunger called, and the tempting aroma of food wafted from Zolan’s kitchen.
‘Anyone hungry?’ he invited. ‘My mother is cooking, and she’s a culinary genius.’
It was all the invitation they needed.
They made their way to the dining table, where a lavish spread of delicious dishes was laid out. The scent of spices and herbs filled the air.
Zolan’s mother, Liliah, was a kind woman who lived next door to her son and shared his smile.
‘She’s also a genie in the kitchen,’ Shiloh told Mak and Saba.
The meal became a welcome distraction and sustenance they needed as they indulged in dark yeasted flatbreads, succulent chicken, and roast lamb.
The platters were served alongside condiments and sweet roasted vegetables that melted in your mouth.
Red wine, laughter, and conversation flowed as they ate, each of them finding solace in the company of their makeshift family.
Saba caught Shiloh’s eye across the table and smiled.
She beamed back, and Saba embraced the warmth of her love, grateful that their bond forged through years of shared experiences had never faded.
That peace had been brokered between Mak and Zolan also meant they’d face whatever more shit came their way together, united.
After dinner, they moved to the living room, where a fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting a glow over them all.
Liliah joined them, her eyes alight with curiosity as she listened to their tales from earlier that day.
She was a quiet and self-possessing woman.
Yet Saba noted Liliah’s kindness to Shiloh. She made her a separate meal because of her nausea, brought her warm slippers, and helped raise her legs onto the couch.
Her smile was genuine as she servedkahawa, prepared in the traditional method over coals above the fire.
Her son demonstrated the same silent, fierce affection for his wife.
He rubbed her feet, fed her cocoa nibs, and kissed her hand any chance he had, deep in love and not afraid to show it.
Shiloh had landed in a soft place, and Saba relaxed, happy for her.
They drank the bitter, smoky, unctuous brew and nibbled on honey cakes, unwinding in the unlikely atmosphere.
Mak had Saba on his lap, his eyes lighting on her, a quietness in his face, almost like he’d come to a peace about them.
She stroked his arm, face, and cheeks occasionally, still needing to reassure herself he was OK.
