thirty-seven #3
Who really knows. Even the Mira of this world knew that Sulim had once been in a relationship with Sonall, who clearly still had feelings for her, based on the way he vehemently protected her, even going as far as to do any killing for her.
All so she wouldn’t have that on her conscience.
Now, Mira understood it better. Having known her mother in the other world, she knew that Sulim and Sonall were not soulmates, but had uncannily similar auras. The kind that suggested they could have a happily ever after if it was what they really wanted.
But when actual soulmates came into the picture…
Damn. Mira was frozen in her thoughts as she contemplated Sonall’s lot. God damnit.
He didn’t seem to know that he was from another world. Then again, maybe neither he nor Sulim had Crossed. The main difference between the two humans and everyone else…
They were dead. Their souls had returned to the Void before Joiya’s belated Ascension neutralized the tainted world.
Wait…
Did that mean…?
Mira checked her messages once more. Nothing awaited her.
That’s it. She washed up in her bathroom, locked up the main Temple doors, and hoped that her wards would hold up as she teleported off Cerilyn and invaded the entry square where guests were relegated when they visited a Yahzenian estate.
Anyone who worked at Marlow Estate recognized her, even in her Temple whites.
Most merely nodded in greeting and went back to their work.
The steward, however, appeared as Mira ascended the main staircase leading into the double-door entrance and said, “Master Marlow is not feeling well today. I suggest you come back later or leave him a message, Lady Mira.”
“I’ve been leaving messages all day, and this is important.” She stepped past the middle-aged man who must have thought himself quite important if he was steward of a House from the First Sixteen. “Besides, I’m pretty sure I know why he isn’t feeling well. Let me see him.”
She kept walking, as if he could stop her.
Sensing her determination, the steward teleported away, potentially to Ramaron’s apartment, where he would give warning.
Indeed, by the time Mira made it to the biggest apartment a few minutes later, her legs already sore from walking more than she usually did now that she lived on Cerilyn, the steward came out of the door with a sigh.
“He really doesn’t feel well, Lady Mira.” Nevertheless, he didn’t stand in her way. She pushed open the door, imploring him to tell her where Ramaron was. “Nausea, vertigo…”
“As I said, I know why he’s unwell. He’s not contagious.” She knew that everyone in House Marlow was a bit on edge after they lost their last Lady Marlow to the plague. “Where is he? His bedroom?”
The steward puffed out his chest and ground his teeth before saying, “Yes. I implore you not to take up too much of his time.” He caught her before she lunged forward. “I only let you in because I know how much you mean to him.”
She shook him off. “How kind and considerate of you. The man who was a bigger father to me than my actual father… yes, I mean a lot to him.”
The man slightly paled. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine. But I need to talk to him about something… private. Can I trust you to keep out anyone else? Including yourself?”
“Sure.”
“Excellent. I’ll be teleporting right out when I’m finished. I have to get back to my post.”
“Of course, Lady Mira.”
She waited for him to leave the apartment before she continued to Ramaron’s chambers, which were tucked into the far corner of the apartment, in a large room overlooking a panoramic view of the flower garden.
Sheer white curtains hung in front of the panels of windows surrounding the bed, filtering in late afternoon light but redirecting the heat, as it was summer in this part of Yahzen.
In front of the big bed was a couch and coffee table, a television mounted above the grand fireplace taking up the small patch of wall between windows.
A chazah board was set up for a new game nearby.
Yet in the far corner of the room, between a dresser and a large standing lamp, was a desk and chair on a raised platform.
That was where Mira found Ramaron, who looked up from a letter he was writing. He didn’t seem surprised to see her.
“You’ve been ignoring my messages,” she teased him.
The man she knew better than any other slowly put down his pen and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Your father will be the death of me.”
Mira kept her distance. The Ramaron of this world was older-looking than the other.
He has a cane… It leaned against his desk, scraping the nose of the sleeping dog beneath his desk.
That’s not Chayo. Right. The Ramaron of this world had a golden dog named Chiki.
And it was old enough to sleep most of the day.
Where did the cane come from, though? She couldn’t quite remember, as if the Mira native to this world had never learned the truth.
“I’m told you don’t feel well. I think I know why.”
Ramaron gazed into the space before him, folding up his letter without looking at it. “That would be quite the thing to figure out. Especially since your father’s antics are enough to put me in the hospital.”
“Yes, I read about it this morning. How many planets is that, now?”
“I try not to think about it.”
That softened tone implied that something more than heartache burned in his chest. If my father has been doing this… and he doesn’t even have my mother’s company to fall back on… Yes, Mira supposed Ramaron was a more tragic figure. She preferred not to linger on that.
“My mother visited you, didn’t she?”
Something moved down Ramaron’s throat. Either he swallowed his pride, or his memories. The latter, based on how his hand is shaking. “What would you know about that?”
“Because I have quite the story to tell you. And a few answers. Like why you’re remembering a life you’re sure you didn’t actually live.”
That was his cue to get up and make some tea.
Something Mira did for him, because watching his weakened state attempt to work his cane while avoiding the dog beneath his desk simply depressed her.
Whatever had happened between Ramaron and Mira’s father, it had done irrevocable damage.
Physically. Emotionally. And now, here she was, bearing more grand news that would forever change their lives. Whichever ones they were living.