Page 106 of Dalla's Royal Guards
Her breath caught, and she nodded as the elderly woman quietly slipped away. She stared into the mirror across from her, stunned. That... would explain everything.
The door opened again, and Nasser appeared, worry etched into every line of his face until his eyes met hers.
“Dalla,” he exhaled, crossing the room. “You vanished. Are you alright?”
She gave him a wavering smile. “I think I am. I think I will be.”
He took her hands, concern darkening his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
She hesitated, her lips parting but no words coming at first. She slowly brought one of his hands to her stomach. Her heart pounded.
“I don’t know for sure,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I think... I might be pregnant.”
His breath caught. His gaze dropped to her stomach, then rose to her eyes—full of wonder, disbelief, and the flicker of hope.
“Truly?” he asked, his voice breaking.
“I need to take a test. But... yes. I think so.”
Before he could respond, the door opened once more, and Musad stepped in, scanning the room.
“I was talking with Dimitri Mihailov and Sergi Vasiliev. They want to introduce you to their wife, Rune.” He paused mid-sentence, his gaze locking on Dalla’s teary expression. “Are you alright?”
Dalla released a soft, breathless laugh. “I think I might be. Finally.”
She looked between them, her voice catching. “Is there any chance we can stop on the way home to pick up a pregnancy test?”
Musad blinked. His lips parted, eyes darting to her stomach, then to her eyes. He took a half-step forward, emotion rippling through him. “Are you saying...?”
“I’m saying... we might be having a baby.”
The disbelief turned into radiant joy. He surged forward, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her off the ground with a shout of joy that broke like sunlight through a storm.
Nasser joined them, positioning himself so she was caught between them.
Behind them, the older woman peeked back in before she fanned herself as she studied Nasser and Musad holding Dalla in a protective cocoon. Her grin widened as she chuckled, ‘Congratulations,’ before slipping back to the party.
Dalla felt as if she were floating as she stepped out into the ballroom once more, wrapped in Musad and Nasser’s arms. She was about to ask if they could leave early when her gaze locked on the very pregnant, exquisite woman staring at her from across the room.
Rune—Runa, reborn and radiant—stood tall and very pregnant, her smile shining through tears.
“Runa!”
Dalla wasn’t even aware that she had cried out her sister’s name. She moved across the floor, her arms opening wide as Runa met her halfway. They fell into each other’s arms in a tight embrace, tears slipping down their cheeks as their men stood nearby, watching with quiet reverence.
“I missed you,” Dalla whispered.
“I knew you’d come back,” Rune breathed. “Fate wasn’t finished with us.”
Dalla cupped her sister’s cheek. “We still have more to do. For Olaf. For Aesa. As our parents watch over us.”
Runa nodded, her eyes shining. “For Olaf,Far,andMor.”
Harlem: New York City
In a quiet basement beneath a five-story brownstone in New York, Harlem sat at a well-worn desk. The melancholic swell of Tchaikovsky’s ‘Swan Lake’ murmured through the room, the strings weaving sorrow into the still air. Shadows cast by the antique brass lamp painted golden curves across the bookshelves lined with ancient texts, first-edition novels, and a few scattered, faded photographs.
Above the desk hung the framed portrait of a smiling woman with a laugh in her eyes and a boy with her dimples. It gave him asmall measure of comfort, and Harlem’s eyes lingered on them, his thumb brushing the lip of the glass of bourbon on his desk. He hadn’t touched the drink. It just sat there.
