Before I could process the gravity of their exchange, heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor, cutting through the tension like a blade. Roman emerged from the shadows, his figure materializing as if from the very walls themselves. He stopped short when he saw me, his brows knitting together in concern.
“Why are you out of your room? You should be resting,” he said, reaching out as if to shepherd me back to safety.
“Resting?” I echoed, my heart pounding against my ribs. “Why is Balthazar not in prison? Why is Mathias in prison?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said slowly, as though trying to make sense of a puzzle with missing pieces.
In a rush of desperation, the words burst from me. “I just had a baby in the cave.”
“No, my love, you didn’t. You couldn’t have. We just got married. I hope we’re having a baby soon.” His gaze searched mine as though willing my chaotic thoughts to align with his reality. “You must have hurt your head.”
With a swift turn, Roman addressed Balthazar, his voice carrying the weight of command. “Balthazar, stay here and keep watch over Mathias. I need to tend to my wife.”
The world tilted, my legs unsteady beneath me as my thoughts spiraled further into disarray. Roman’s arm wrapped securely around my waist, grounding me as he guided me out of the suffocating darkness of the dungeon.
“Stay and rest,” he said softly, settling me onto the plush bedding of our chamber. The room’s opulence, with its gilded frames and flowing silk drapes, starkly contrasted with the grim cell I had just left. “I’ll fetch the healer.”
With a final worried glance, he disappeared, leaving me alone with the swirling chaos of my mind.
Soft footfalls preceded the entrance of Amara, the healer whose skills now seemed more crucial than ever.
“Amara!” I gasped, relief washing over me like a tide. “I’m so glad to see you again.”
I watched in mute fascination as Amara’s skilled hands moved over my body, her touch gentle yet precise as she conducted a trauma exam.
“Please tell me I’m not crazy,” I murmured. “I don’t know where I am or why everything is different than when I was last conscious.”
Amara’s gaze flicked toward the room’s corners, her eyes scanning for unseen ears. Satisfied we were alone, she leaned in, her breath warm against the room’s chill. The sharp, sterile scent of antiseptic on her hands mixed with the earthy tang of aged stone walls as she whispered, “You have a child in a different life. But here, you don’t.”
“Here?” My voice trembled, echoing slightly off the cold marble floors. Confusion twisted in my gut. “Where ishere?”
She stood upright, her posture rigid. “I can’t tell you. You must remember your past.” Her eyes searched mine with an intensity that bordered on pain. “Remember Rome—when I was dying, I told you that you had a great destiny ahead of you? That time is now.”
Fragments of cobblestone streets and whispered promises stirred at the edge of my memory, but they were fleeting, like smoke slipping through my fingers.
“A lot of people are trying to thwart you. You must find allies you can trust.” Her voice was a low hiss. “Salvatore will do everything he can to keep you from remembering who you are. Right now, your greatest weakness is that you’ve forgotten the past. It gives him the upper hand.”
I gripped the bedding. The weight of forgotten lifetimes bore down on me, threatening to splinter my resolve.
“We’ve come so far on this mission.” Amara’s hand settled on my shoulder with conviction. “It’s time for you to remember and fulfill your destiny.”
A vein throbbed at my temple as I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, trying to coax forth images from the shadows of my mind. “I can’t remember.”
Amara’s hand brushed against mine, her touch warm and grounding, tethering me to the present. “You’re afraid of the truth,” she said softly, her words carrying the weight of unspoken secrets. “You had a relationship with Malik. And Balthazar... he wasn’t just anyone. He was your loyal protector.”
Her words felt like pieces of a puzzle that refused to fit, their meaning just out of reach.
“Loyal protector,” I whispered, the term alien and yet oddly familiar, as though it belonged to a story I had long forgotten.
“Indeed,” Amara said, her gaze piercing, locking onto mine with an intensity that made me squirm. “I know it’s hard to believe, especially after the pain he caused you. But you have to understand—you must remember. My main purpose in Rome was to bring you and Roman together. It wasn’t easy. Now, we’re too far in to lose you again.”
Desperation clawed at my chest, my hands trembling as I reached for her. “Why can’t you just tell me who I am?”
She shivered, wrapping her arms tightly around herself as though warding off an unseen chill that seeped through the castle stones. “That’s part of the curse. You have to remember on your own.”
“Amara, please,” I pleaded, my voice breaking under the weight of my panic. “Help me. What do I do? How do I break through this fog?”
“I can’t tell you; only you can remember.” She leaned closer, her breath a whisper against my ear. “Trust Roman. Only Roman. You don’t know who’s telling the truth and who’s lying. And Balthazar...” Her voice faltered. “He’s lost too. He needs to find his way back.”
