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Her body sags in relief and a smile forms on her lips. She doesn’t say another word as she bounces off to enjoy a moment of freedom. I can’t contain my own smile at her momentary happiness. In truth, Julian made it happen and he deserves my gratitude.
“Thank you, Julian. This means... everything.”
His head bobs, but he doesn’t say anything, hands in his pockets as he walks ahead of me.
We walk for a few minutes in silence until we approach two gravestones worn with age. My head turns to Julian, the question dying on my lips.
“These are the memorial stones of my mother and sister.”
He leans over, wiping away dust and dirt from the stones. One is engraved,
Sylvia Bellamy
beloved mother and wife
September 20, 1321 – October 4, 1346
The second reads,
Winnifred Bellamy
cherished daughter
March 14, 1341 – March 17, 1341
“What happened to them?”
“My sister died shortly after birth from the plague. She was one of the earliest victims, at three days old,” he says sadly. “She would’ve been the oldest of us all.”
The plague. The reminder that he isn’t mortal is a kick to the gut.
“My mother died during childbirth with the three of us boys, just five years later.”
Triplets. Just like me and my sisters.
“I was a triplet too,” I confide, feeling like I should share something, since he’s showed me this.
His head pops up to mine, eyes wide.
“You... were a triplet?”
“Yeah, it’s not that uncommon,” I titter at his surprise.
“Where are your sisters?”
My face falls at the question. I wanted to share a piece of me, but this feels like too much too soon. There are some things I hold close, and the story of my past is one of them. Julian must read this on my face, because he continues on quickly to get an answer.
“Were they taken too?”
I shake my head vigorously, thankful they weren’t auctioned off to a monster like Marcellus.
“Molly was stillborn, and Maggie died a few months ago.” It’s all I’ll offer. I won’t go into her death, and the fact that I’m finally admitting that she’s dead isn’t lost on me. It breaks me in two.
“I’m sorry, Marina.”
My shoulders lift. Words escape me.
“It appears we have a lot in common.” He peers at me out of the corner of his eye. Mine are lasered on the tombstones as I try to prevent myself from breaking down.
