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Mr. Nash turned back to him. "I didn't spend enough time with all my important guests during the gala."
My father nodded uncertainly. “We are pleased to welcome you here to our table.”
“Thank you very much, Mr. Johnson. Then I’m sure you won’t mind if I take your lovely daughter for a short walk in the garden right away.”
My heart stopped, and all color disappeared from Dad’s face. At the same moment, the door flew open, and Rick stomped into the room.
"Very happy to accompany you both. The weather is so nice. It's just right for a little time outdoors." Gratefully, I smiled at him.
"That won't be necessary," John Adam Nash coolly declined. "We will go into the garden alone. Have you finished your breakfast, Miss Myrina?"
Reluctantly, I swallowed the lump in my mouth and then nodded while dabbing my lips with the napkin. Something I didn't usually do, but I wanted to stall for time in the hope that a miracle would happen that prevented me from having to go into the garden alone with this man.
But this miracle did not come, and a little later, I entered the terrace at his side. In my back, I felt the looks of my family.
“Follow me!” John Adam Nash urged me and silently walked deeper into the green landscape until we were no longer visible from the house.
There, he turned to me. His eyes were cruel and deadly and suddenly seemed ancient to me.
“Where is your mother?” he hissed like a snake. Automatically, I took a step back.
"My mother died a few years ago," I stammered uncertainly. I didn't get any further because the next moment, the old man grabbed me by the throat with unimaginable strength and lifted me up with an outstretched arm.
Panic and pain welled up inside me. His fingers dug deep into my throat, and I gasped for breath.
“Don’t make a fool of me, girl!” he growled now, black flames dancing in his eyes. “Where is your mother?”
“Dead!” I croaked, trying to get his hands off my neck. Scratching, pulling, pinching, and kicking. But he only squeezed harder.
“Your mother can’t die!” he shouted, upset. “So don’t lie to me!”
Slowly, I felt my strength leaving me. My breath was no more than a gasp, and my field of vision blurred into a bright mist. Any moment, I would lose consciousness.
"Let her go at once!" a familiar voice suddenly sounded from behind us.Tanael!
“Now!” he rumbled indignantly, and I felt a hesitation run through John Adam Nash. “She’s not the one you’re looking for. So let her go!”
Without warning, I was dropped and landed safely in strong arms. With eyes wide open, I struggled for air.
“Breathe, Myrina,” whispered Tanael, pressing me against him. Gently, he stroked a strand of hair from my face. “Take it easy. All is well. He’s gone.”
Soothingly, his words trickled into my consciousness bit by bit.
Golden eyes lay on me, and sadness and worry veiled their brilliance. If I did not care better, I would eventually drown in them.
Suddenly, my father’s face appeared next to him. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks as he stared in shock at my neck, which still did not allow enough air to flow into my lungs.
“Thank you, Mr. Baldur. I really don’t know how to ever thank you. He would have killed her … he would have …” he stammered, completely distraught.
"Everything is fine now, Mr. Johnson. It's a good thing I stopped by today to return you your forgotten fly," my rescuer calmly replied without taking his eyes off me.
Again, he gently stroked my cheek with his finger.
"Breathe, Myrina. Breathe." His tenderness released the shock from my body, and tears ran down my face until they dripped onto my burning neck and made me wince.
“Aza, run a hot bath for Myrina! Add chamomile oil, please,” he said so quietly that I assumed I was the only one who could hear. “Stephan, prepare a healing tea!”
Then he rose with me in his arms and carried me through the garden back to the house. Protectively, he pressed me to his chest.
