Annani’s eyes misted again. Her Khiann had been the same, always mindful of her wellbeing and doing everything in his power to make her happy. In return, he had received her eternal love and dedication.

Tragically, she had had such a short time to shower him with love. What he had given her, however, had been sustaining her throughout the millennia.

“Why are you sad again?” Wonder asked.

Annani loved that the girl no longer felt like a servant and was treating her like a friend and not a boss. If a name switch had achieved that, Annani had no problem sticking with Wonder. In fact, it had a nice sound to it.

“You are correct. Your Anandur sounds more like my Khiann than like Esag.”

“I think so too. When I captured Anandur, he could’ve gotten free with ease. The only reason he didn’t was that he wanted to earn my trust. He was willing to stay locked up in a cage with three Doomers and cause his brother needless worry to do so.”

Annani knew what the comparison was all about. Both her and Wonder’s mates had sacrificed for love. Except, her Khiann had sacrificed more than a few days of freedom.

“My Khiann was willing to risk his life to be with me.” Tears started running in rivulets down her cheeks. “And he paid the ultimate price. I cannot help but feel responsible. Not only for his death but for that of my entire people. If I had gone willingly to Mortdh, none of that would have happened.”

Wonder regarded her with eyes that were much more mature than her age suggested. “Do you really believe that? Because I don’t. Mortdh was crazy. He was obsessed with becoming the ultimate leader of the gods. I still remember what you told me. You said that he would not wait for Ahn to step down and that he would try to seize power by force. Ahn would’ve fought back, and Mortdh would’ve dropped the bomb. Maybe it would have happened several years later, but the outcome would have been the same. Only in this version, you would’ve died along with the other gods. Imagine the world with humanity at the mercy of Mortdh or Navuh.”

A shiver ran down Annani’s spine. “I do not want to imagine that.”

“Neither do I.” Wonder handed her a napkin to wipe her tears away. “As you explained to me yesterday, the Fates had done what they could and saved you for a reason. They could not have stopped the events from unfolding the way they did, but they could change one little thread.” She pointed at Annani. “You are that thread. And by doing so they altered the course of history.”

“I would like to think that you are correct, and most days I do. Except, from time to time doubt assails me, especially when I feel down. Then I think about my children and my love for them. It never fails to fortify my resolve.”

Wonder nodded, but then shook her head. “I don’t know how it’s possible, but now that I think about it, Kian reminds me of Khiann. You named your first-born son after him and just changed the spelling a little.”

“I did. It is a bad omen to name a child after someone who died tragically. But it was my way of honoring Khiann’s memory. And you are right, he does look a little like Khiann. Especially the determined expression.”

“Khiann was much more mellow than Kian.”

Annani smiled. “Khiann was nineteen. His namesake is nearly two thousand years old. Kian was not always as grumpy and as intense as he is now. The mantle of responsibility did that to him.”

“How do you explain the resemblance? Did you choose lovers who reminded you of Khiann?”

“Naturally. I have a thing for tall, handsome men, with commanding personalities. You, on the other hand, prefer the charming, easy-going types.”

Wonder laughed. “I also have a thing for wide shoulders and big muscles.”

“And apparently you like redheads.”

“I do. But it seems like you don’t have a particular hair color you favor. Kian’s hair is light brown, Amanda’s is black, but I know it’s fake and that her real hair color is red. Alena is blond. What about Sari?”

“Sari has chestnut hair.”

Hugging the decorative cushion to her chest, Wonder leaned back. “I might be imagining it, but I see some of Khiann in Amanda and Alena as well.”

Annani nodded. “I do too.” She smiled. “As you have guessed, I do like a certain type of man.”

As much as she wished she could, Annani couldn’t share with Wonder the prophecy she had received after Khiann’s murder.

The human soothsayer had prohibited it.

It might have been total nonsense, something the old human had invented to lift Annani’s spirits from depths of despair. But true or false, it had helped her when hope had deserted her, and she had nothing else to cling to. For that, Annani was grateful even if it were a lie.

In her darkest moments, and she had had quite a few of those, she had recited the prophecy in her mind, and it had given her strength to claw her way out of an otherwise uncontrollable downward spiral.

Over the millennia, she had rearranged some of the words and the sequence of its lines so they would rhyme even when translated into another language. By now, she could recite the prophecy in eight or nine of them.

Do not despair, my lady. Not all is lost.

True love cannot die, its warmth cannot turn to frost.

Your beloved’s love floats in the ether searching for a new baby to be born.

Khiann will find a way to come back to you in human form.

Seven children will be born to you, all different, but his spirit will shine through their eyes warm and bright.

And one day, thousands of years from now, he will come back as an immortal, and you will know him at first sight.

I saw it all with my blind eyes, my lady, and everything I see with my second sight comes to pass.

After delivering the prophecy, the human soothsayer had made Annani swear she would never repeat it to anyone. If she ever did, the old crone warned, Khiann would never return.

Out of the promised seven, Annani had given birth to five children. Which for a goddess was nothing short of miraculous. But after sweet Lilen had been taken away from her, only four remained.

The soothsayer had failed to forewarn Annani about that. Losing her son was just as bad as losing Khiann had been, maybe even worse. By then, though, Annani was well acquainted with grief. Perhaps that was why it had subsided sooner.

The thing about grief was that it never went away. The pain lurked under the surface, waiting for a moment of weakness to hijack her mind and leach away her strength.

At those dark moments, she thought of her children and all of her grandchildren and their children. It was comforting to think that the spirit never died and that sparks of it found their way into the souls of her progeny.

If she believed the prophecy, there were two more children in her future, but Annani did not put much faith in that.

The prophecy was just a crutch, something to cling to and find solace in when she felt all alone on her proverbial throne, and in moments of gloom.