301 Breakfast of Blessings

    bMara /b

    Six Months Later

    Lucian and I had overslept. The sun was already high, streaking soft light across the curtains, and we rushed through our morning routine to prepare for breakfast. Parenthood had changed our lives in ways we had never imagined. Ka and Ronan were peaceful babies, easy to soothe, but no matter how many nannies we employed, Lucian and I still rose in the middle of the night to check on them. Just to be sure. Just to hold them close and whisper our love. They were more than children, they were blessings, proof that light could grow even after the darkest storms.

    Richard, too, was thriving. Doctor dmir had assured us that he was now strong and healthy, that he could live as he wished without the shadow of frailty hanging over him. That news alone had brought relief and joy to our household. Our lives, once so uncertain, felt steady again.

    Steel Corp had been revived, the doors of opportunity reopening with renewed strength. A trade agreement with Mistwood had finally been sealed, a contract that promised not only prosperity for us but hope for the poorer territories that depended on our leadership. For the first time in a long while, everything seemed to align. We were at the peak of our happiness, and every morning I gave thanks to the goddess for this rare,

    unbroken bliss.

    By the time Lucian and I stepped into the lounge, the household had already begun to gather. Alpha Vander

    and Martha were there, as usual, always the earliest to arrive. Vander looked transformed. He had trimmed

    his hair and beard, his shoulders broader, his frame fuller, healthier. The heavy shadows that once clung to

    him seemed to have lifted. Even the small detail of him trading his worn pajamas for crisp morning wear was

    proof enough that life had settled back into him. Beside him, Martha glowed with quiet contentment, her eyes

    brighter than I had ever seen them.

    Grand–aunt Katya was seated with her caregiver, her frailty softened by the dignity she carried. Aunty Lydia

    was absent, and i dared not dwell on what that might mean. Darian and Tiffanypleted the gathering, their presence filling the room with a familiar warmth.

    As I looked around at them, at my family and all we had endured together, a deep peace settled in me. For so

    long, survival had been our only goal. But now, here we were, living, thriving, loving: For the first time, it truly

    felt like home.

    The breakfasts we once used to dodge had be the most treasured part of our days. The long table, once

    marked by silence or tension, was now filled with warmth, the air alive with chatter andughter. Over tters of fresh bread, fruit, and carefully prepared meals, we caught up on one another’s lives.

    Martha, as always, was the spark of the room. She filled every silence with her spirited chatter, often arguing about things she only half–understood, and we all adored her for it. Vander looked at her with a devotion that softened him, his rough edges dulled by love. Together, they were transformed, partners in every sense of the

    word.

    “You two arete,” Vander teased as Lucian and I slipped into our seats.

    “Forgive us,” Lucian replied, smiling. ulli/li/ul

    301 Breakfast of Blessings

    Martha leaned forward, her eyes dancing. “Oh, let them be, darling. Taking care of three children isn’t easy,” she said with mock sternness, her hand brushing mine under the table in solidarity. I sent her a grateful nce through the mind link, and she winked, making me grin.

    I had just reached for a croissant when Darian cleared his throat, a subtle sound that cut through the noise. Tiffany’s hand rose almost shyly, her smile trembling at the edges. On her finger glimmered a ring, simple,

    elegant, perfect.

    The entire table erupted.

    “Oh goodness!” I squealed, pping my hands. “Finally!”

    Martha leaned across the table with wide eyes. “You’re engaged?!”

    “Yes,” Tiffany said, her cheeks flushing. She nced at Darian, who was grinning like a man who had just

    won the greatest prize.

    “Congrattions, you two,” Lucian said warmly. “I wish you the best marriage has to offer. Tiff, I’m d you

    finally said yes.”

    “She didn’t make it easy,” Darian said with augh, slipping an arm around Tiffany’s shoulders. “I had to propose three times before she agreed.”

    Tiffany smacked his chest yfully. “That’s not true!”

    “Oh, it’s true,” Darian teased. “The first time, she said, ‘Ask me again when I’m not angry with you.‘ The second

    time, she said, ‘Ask me when you’ve proven you deserve me.”

    “And the third?” Vander asked, smirking over his cup of tea.

    “The third,” Darian said, looking at Tiffany as if she were the only person in the room, “she kissed me before I

    could even finish the question.”

    The table melted intoughter and coos. Tiffany buried her face against his shoulder, blushing furiously. ”

    You’re making it sound like I’m impossible.”

    “You are impossible,” he said softly, kissing the top of her head, “but you’re mine.”

    Martha pped her hands together. “So when’s the big day? Don’t you dare make us wait another year.”

    “Next Saturday,” Darian said proudly. “Tiff’s mother wants to host a small party for us. Something simple.”

    “Simple?” Martha gasped in mock horror. “No, no, no. You’re not getting away with that. This family doesn’t do simple.”

    “Oh yes, we do,” Lucian interjected with a smirk. “And we will, if Darian says so. Let them have what they

    want.”

    Before anyone could reply, Grandaunt Katya, who had been unusually quiet until now, shifted in her chair. Her thin frame straightened with surprisingmand, and her gnarled fingers tapped once against the table to draw everyone’s attention. The mischievous spark in her eyes did the rest.

    Her hands rose, moving in quick, sharp gestures. Her crooked knuckles, stiff with age, still spoke as clearly as any voice. The corners of her mouth twitched upward in a half–smile.

    Lydia, seated beside her, chuckled and leaned forward. “She says, ‘A word of advice.”

    The entire table stilled. All eyes turned towards Katya. She lifted her cane with dramatic ir, jabbing it in

    301 Breakfast of Blessings

    +0 Points

    Darian’s direction. Then her fingers flew again, the motions clipped but emphatic, her brows arched high for

    effect.

    “Marriage is not about who wins the argument,” Lydia tranted, her tone matching the bite of her mother’s expression. “It’s about who apologises first, usually the man. Learn that quickly, boy, or you’ll spend your nights on the couch.“”

    The room exploded withughter. Vander nearly choked on his tea, and Tiffany’s face lit with delight as Darian groaned and dragged a hand down his face. “Not you too, Grand–aunt.”

    Katya smirked and wagged her cane, snapping her fingers once before her hands moved again, slow this time, deliberate, as if to underline every word.

    Lydia could barely keep the grin off her face as she spoke for her mother. “She says, ‘Oh yes, me. I’ve outlived

    four husbands. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”

    “Four?” Tiffany gasped, her eyes widening.

    Katya nodded proudly, her shoulders squaring as she signed with exaggerated flourish. Her fingers tapped her chest, then spread outward, a queen boasting of her victories. Her grin was wicked.

    Lydia tranted, her voice full of warmth. “Yes, four. And if you y your cards right, you might keep this one longer than I did.“”

    Theughter grew louder, rolling around the table like a wave. Darian groaned again, burying his face in his hands, while Tiffany kissed his cheek and whispered with yful devotion, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you.”

    Katya leaned back, her work done, eyes glittering with triumph as she twirled her cane once and tapped it

    smartly on the floor.

    And just like that, joy wrapped around the room, tying us all together in a knot of love, humour, and hope.

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     302 The Cliffside Promise

    b302 /bbThe /bCliffside Promise