“How do we decipher the scriptures on these blades?” I asked, hope threading my voice.
“You must wait, my dear. We all must rest and restore,” he said gently. “Tomorrow morning, I will bring you the book. It contains the alphabet needed to decipher the scripture.”
“Pasha Hassan—” I began, but he raised a hand, stopping me mid-sentence.
“I would like you to call me Amir,” he interjected. “Not Pasha Hassan. And Roman, when you’re ready, I would love for you to call me Father.”
Beside me, Roman shifted uncomfortably, his posture rigid with unvoiced emotions. “I’m… I’m not ready to call you Father. You put me through too many trials. I respect you, but…” He faltered, his voice wavering with the weight of his pain.
“I understand. Take your time,” Amir said, his hands trembling slightly, betraying his vulnerability.
“Even referring to you as Amir gives me pause,” Roman admitted. “But I shall try.”
“I hope that one day you will forgive me, Roman. I owe you my life,” Amir said, his voice heavy with sincerity. “But I had to do what I did. I followed my orders. Salvatore will stop at nothing to destroy us all. These challenges… they are what Salvatore puts his warriors through. I am merely following orders.”
A heavy sigh escaped him, laden with the weight of his regret. “Don’t be upset with Malik and Reyna. I did this to you. I had to. It pained me more than you’ll ever know. It pained me to take your children away. I did it selfishly… to be their grandfather.”
The absurdity hit me like a rogue wave crashing into still waters. A startled laugh burst forth from my lips before I could stifle it.
“Good one, Amir. So, we were fighting for our lives, and you were playing Grandpa.”
Beside me, Roman’s lips curled into a wry smile, a silent acknowledgment of the bizarre truth we’d been served.
“But, speaking of the children…” I said, my voice softening as my heart swelled with longing. “Please, let me see them. I miss them so dearly.”
“Of course,” Amir replied, his warmth contrasting with the cold resolve of moments earlier. With a curt nod, he signaled to someone beyond my line of sight. “As you wish, my dear.”
Measured footsteps approached, and a guard appeared in the doorway, clad in the ornate uniform befitting Pasha Hassan’s service. The guard bowed slightly, then gestured for us to follow him. My heart raced as we moved down the dimly lit corridor, every step bringing me closer to the reunion I had yearned for.
Inside the sanctuary, the air was still and fragrant with the sweet scent of innocence. Moonlight streamed through cracks in the ceiling, casting a celestial glow over the two slumbering forms nestled in their cribs. Roman’s hand tightened around mine, his grip conveying an unspoken torrent of emotions as we gazed upon our daughters, their small chests rising and falling with the tranquil rhythm of dreams.
“They look so peaceful,” I whispered, tears pricking the corners of my eyes, the weight of the world momentarily lifted by their serene presence.
“Like they’ve never known a moment’s distress,” Roman replied.
Movement stirred from the corner of the room, and Reyna emerged from the shadows, her presence a silent yet commanding sentinel. A frisson of surprise jolted through me.
“Reyna…” My voice faltered as I stepped toward her, the earlier strain of doubt and suspicion giving way to relief. Without hesitation, I enveloped her fiercely, “I’m so sorry I accused you of treachery. You were just doing what you had to do.”
Her arms tightened around me with equal fervor, and her voice carried the weight of understanding when she spoke. “Our father never would have killed you, Roman. The trials would have stopped. But you passed perfectly. You are ready.”
The tension within us unspooled, forgiveness knitting together the fractures in our relationship. Roman joined our embrace, his presence a grounding force that anchored us all.
As we stepped back, the flickering candlelight danced across Reyna’s features, highlighting the undeniable resemblance to Marcellious.
“I saved Marcellious. He is my brother, after all, which means I am your sister, Roman,” she revealed, her eyes holding a glint of pride.
The corner of Roman’s mouth lifted in a bittersweet smile. “You carry the face of an angel like our mother.”
Reyna’s laughter was soft but tinged with darkness. “I might look like an angel, but I am dark and deadly.”
“I’ve already seen that,” Roman replied, his tone layered with both respect and acknowledgment.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to meet you and Marcellious,” Reyna said, her voice thick with years of yearning. “Mother and Father spoke of you both so often. Our mother would be so proud to see us together like this. I hope we’ll free her from Solaris one day.”
With those parting words, Reyna turned and disappeared into the shadows from which she had come.
Gazing upon Rosie’s and Luna’s slumbering forms, nestled in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the fractured ceiling, our resolve solidified like the delicate threads of their well-worn blankets.
