Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Outside Kyria’s bedroom, Vanna and Hadwin looked at each other, listening in silence as their younger son began to tell the story of a clown and a little boy.
She smiled wryly at her husband. This is going to be trouble in a couple of years.
He smiled back at her. Wouldn’t have it any other way. He touched her cheek. I love this family. I love our life. I love you.
She closed her eyes, thinking that she would never forget that look for as long as she lived. And though she knew it was impossible, she found herself hoping that this life of theirs could last. Forever and ever—-
But it was not to be.
Nine years ago
The world had lost a real-life hero. It was a dramatic headline, but it was also painfully apt and inadequate at the same time, and Malik had to blink his eyes several times before his gaze cleared and he was able to read the rest of the speech the palace’s staff had prepared for him.
Tomorrow marked the fortieth day following Hadwin’s death, and he and the rest of his family would make their first appearance in public. He had taken it upon himself to deliver the speech on his family’s behalf, but more and more he was finding it an impossible task. Two paragraphs of it concisely recounted the events that led to his death, and this Malik could only bear to skim.
A successful kidnapping attempt—-
Hadwin Mitropoulos, proving his mettle as a soldier—-
Heroic efforts that saved his son’s life at the cost of his own—-
Injuries too severe, lasting only several hours—-
Final words to the family have been kept private—-
The paper crumpled in his fist. His rage knew no bounds, but it was as impotent as it was violent. There was no one he could rage against. All of his brother’s kidnappers were dead, all of them. But even so, the rage continued to fester inside of him, and he simply didn’t know what to do.
Darkness fell outside the windows, and Malik forced himself to leave his father’s study and join the rest of his family for dinner. It had been one of Hadwin’s rules, and his chest clenched, remembering how he used to think that his father’s rules had been too old-fashioned.
And yet now—-
When he reached the dining hall, he saw that it was the same for Vanna and Altair, both of them forcing themselves to have dinner because it was how Hadwin would have wanted it. Kyria came last, and Malik forced a smile. “Marhava.”
She smiled back at him, but it was unusually timid and uncertain. “Marhava.” But instead of claiming the chair next to Malik like she usually did, she went and sat next to Altair. It was enough to have the entire family pause—-
Vanna’s gaze was suspicious. What did you do?
Malik scowled. Was this woman truly his mother? Why was it that she always seemed to think the worst of him?
“Not that I’m complaining,” Altair said gently, “but aren’t you usually seated next to Malik?”
“I need to sit beside you,” Kyria said firmly.
The three of them exchanged looks, and seeing that everyone was as bemused as he was, Malik asked, “Why do you think that?”
The little girl suddenly looked uneasy. “Just because.”
He frowned. She was hiding something, but what could it possibly be? He started to speak again, but this time Altair forestalled him with a shake of his head.
“Let it be for now,” his older brother murmured.
Malik’s first instinct was to tell his brother he knew Kyria better than anyone did, and letting her maintain a lie was not the way to handle it. But then he saw the frightened way the little girl was looking at him—-
He gave Altair a curt nod, thinking that maybe this was Kyria’s way of cheering Altair up. He told himself to let it go and smiled at Kyria. “If that’s what you want, then that’s how it should be.”
Kyria nodded unsmilingly, and then she turned to Altair. “How are you feeling now, Altair?”
“I’m doing fine, poppet.” Altair ruffled her hair. “And you?”
“I’m doing fine, too.”
Malik asked Kyria about school. She answered without looking at him and then asked Altair about his work.
And so it went, and by the time dinner ended, Malik was seething. The straw that broke the camel’s back, however, was when coffee was being served, and he heard Kyria ask, “Altair, may I sleep in your room tonight?”
In the act of taking a sip of her wine, Vanna ended up spewing it out instead.
Malik’s incredulous gaze shot to Kyria. “What did you say?”
“I w-want to sleep in Altair’s room,” the eleven-year-old girl stammered.
His gaze, now furious, swung to his older brother’s. “What the hell did you do? Did you say anything—-”
Altair’s face hardened. “Careful, brother, or I might think you’re accusing me of something—-”