I left her there, wrapped in the solace of solitude, the gentle hum of bees, and the whisper of leaves in her chosen company. I felt a kinship with her, a shared understanding of being lost in the shadows of grand events. Yet I knew better than to intrude further; some paths to healing needed to be walked alone.
All I knew about her was what Roman had told me—she was a Timebound on the run to find answers about the sun and moon dagger, and she was far from home. The weight of her captivity under Raul hung heavy in my thoughts. I could only begin to imagine the horrors she had endured.
Back in my chamber, I paced restlessly, the plush carpet beneath my feet doing little to dull the tension coiling within me.
Emily had started by never leaving Marcellious’ side, tending to him with quiet devotion. But exhaustion eventually pulled her away, and now she sat huddled in the corner of the room, her mind undoubtedly overwhelmed with worry and distress. She had just given birth to Leo, and now her husband had returned home battered and broken, leaving her caught between the needs of the two people she loved most.
Each member of our small community carried their battles within them. Still, for Emily, it seemed especially burdensome as she navigated the challenges of new motherhood while supporting her wounded spouse.
Beyond the panes of my window, the green expanse of the grounds spread far, bathed in the golden hues of the afternoon sun—a stark contrast to the shadowy depths of the caves where Roman and his team were toiling away.
They had been gone since dawn, a caravan of determined souls seeking the elusive moon dagger. With Malik at his side, Roman had more helpers now, more hands to dig through the earth, and eyes to scan for the shimmer of ancient metal. Each day without them pulled at me, a relentless tide tugging at the shore of my patience. I longed to be among them, to feel the cool touch of the cavern walls and the thrill of discovery in the air.
“Olivia, honey.” The soft call drifted through my chamber door, my mother’s voice as gentle as ever, reaching out to bridge the chasm between us.
I did not move to answer, nor did Emily, who sat quietly in the corner, lost in the labyrinth of her thoughts.
“Olivia,” my mother said again, this time with a hint of persistence. “I’ve brought some lavender tea. It’s quite soothing.”
“Thank you, Mother, but I’m fine,” I replied, my gaze fixed on the distant tree line where the world disappeared into shadow and mystery.
“Your father would have wanted?—”
“Please, Mother,” Emily cut in, her voice firm as she rose to stand beside me, “Leave it be.”
Silence followed, stretching taut before the soft sound of retreating footsteps. My mother, ever the hovering phantom of concern, lingered long enough to remind us of her presence before fading into the hallway. She had learned to weather our rebuffs, yet she persisted, as steady and unyielding as the ivy climbing the stone walls outside.
Neither Emily nor I trusted her. Her story about what happened after Balthazar stabbed her was riddled with holes and inconsistencies. The revelation from Roman about her secret son with Raul only deepened the shadows of doubt. She had selectively written in her journal, omitting critical details and twisting the narrative to suit her design. And when Balthazar unveiled disturbing truths—claiming that my mother and Mathias were monsters to be feared—whatever fragile trust I had in her crumbled further.
Yet I had neither the time nor energy to untangle her web of lies.
“Roman should be here,” I muttered to Emily, my voice tight with frustration. “Not buried in those caves day after day.”
“Perhaps,” Emily said softly, “but he’s doing what he believes is necessary. Just as we must endure this waiting.”
“Endure.” The word tasted bitter on my tongue, a reminder of the helplessness that seemed to cling to my skirts like morning dew. I was no fragile woman to be kept aside while the world churned and changed beyond my reach. And yet, here I was, staring out at the horizon, wishing for the sight of Roman returning victorious, the moon dagger in hand.
“Come,” Emily said, taking my arm gently. “You must be excited about your upcoming birth. Let’s talk about it.”
“Thank you, sister, but no,” I replied, allowing a faint smile to tug at my lips. “I’d like to walk outside to clear my head.”
“As you wish,” Emily said with a nod. “I’ll return to Marcellious’ chamber.”
The sun was climbing toward noon when Reyna found me in the gardens. Her steps were cautious, and she faltered slightly on the dew-covered grass. I turned to face her, noting the pallor of her skin, which even the warm morning light failed to soften.
“Olivia,” she began, her voice trembling just enough to betray her unease, “I would like to go and see Osman at the cave. I want to check on their progress.”
She wrapped her arms tightly around herself as if warding off a chill only she could feel. Her eyes burned with determination, but fear lingered beneath the surface, shadowing her expression.
“I have been away from home for so long,” she continued, her voice quieter now. “The longer Osman and I remain here searching for the blade, the more worried my father will become. He’ll start looking for me soon.”
Her words struck a deep chord within me, igniting a spark of purpose that had been smothered under layers of idleness. The image of Roman toiling in the caves day after day surged into my mind, stoking a sense of urgency I could no longer ignore.
“I deeply apologize, Reyna,” I said, my tone heavy with regret. “We’ve been selfish in our actions. Instead of sending you and Osman back home, we’ve pulled him into our search for the blade.”
“There’s no need to apologize, Olivia,” Reyna replied gently, though concern flickered in her voice. “Our journey to Wales was meant to uncover answers, and I am grateful that Osman can aid you in your quest. I hope that progress is being made.”
“Then we’ll go together,” I said, the decision breaking through like a beam of clarity. “We can’t sit here, waiting for news to trickle in while we’re shrouded in safety.”
