"It is important to remember to breathe," Barr said.

"Yeah," I murmured, curling my hand into a fist.

"You can do this."

We were trying to make me use my powers without lifting my hands. Barr could make things float around without lifting a finger, and I was struggling a lot with that.

"Stop, your nose is bleeding," he said softly and handed me my silk tissue.

"Thanks," I muttered and wiped my nose. "I'm so tired of this."

"Do not be tired. You are working with a block. When the block is lifted, we will be focusing on gaining control. I believe it will be much harder to control yourself then."

I sighed deeply and looked over at Islo. He was sitting with our son and reading, Àlvar napping in his embrace. I wanted to join them.

"Let us try and work on reading minds again. Without touching," Barr said, glancing over at my family, probably trying to get me to focus on him again.

I looked back at him and met his gaze. He had dark eyes like the Bursaaq people. I knew how his real eyes looked so this was a good alternative for him. His real eyes didn't have any white in them as ours did. Just blue rings – blue like my blood and his skin.

Barr was beautiful, there was no denying it. His real form was beautiful. He looked like no one else on this earth and he wore his originality so proudly.

I frowned a bit and tried reaching out to his mind. He had said I should try and imagine his mind as something I could reach out and touch. Everyone had a string that led right into their minds and all I had to do was reach out and grab it. But I could only do this when I touched someone.

"I can't," I said and let out a breath. "Maybe it's part of the block. I have to touch someone to read their minds."

"If I am not blocked like that, then neither are you." He reached out and patted my hand sympathetically. "I have had all of my life to practice, Quinn. Do not think of yourself as weak."

He had been reading my mind there. Which was mildly annoying.

"Quinn, can you take Àlvar? He's waking up." Islo asked then, stopping me from going on a full lecture on how unfair it was that Barr could just wander into my head and listen in on my thoughts.

I rose to my feet and took my son from Islo and smiled down at the tired boy. "Did you have a good nap?" I asked softly.

He looked up at me with heavy eyes and squirmed a little. He didn't look satisfied.

"I know, my love, you're hungry," I murmured and went to the door to fetch someone to make him a bottle.

But it wasn't Àbram I found outside the door. Instead it was a new servant. I frowned.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I..." She looked at me with wide eyes before pushing me inside the apartment and closing the door behind me. "I don't have a lot of time, Your Highness. We know where the block is. This is a message for you to bring on to the spirit."

Barr rose to his feet and came up behind me. "I am the spirit," he said and glanced down at Àlvar fuzzing. The boy would explode in a minute.

"The block is in the catacombs. The ones that are sealed off. You will know how to destroy it, but you will have to wait for our signal. We will evacuate the city. You understand?"

Barr frowned a bit. He was reading her mind. "You are true. I will do as you say. But I cannot let you remember who I am for the time being, I am afraid." He took a step forward and touched her forehead. "You will remember when the time is right." His voice was soft.

She nodded and then she pivoted around and left.

"What did you do?" I asked.

"I only blocked her memory of me. It is harmless as long as the block is lifted again. Otherwise it might fester and destroy her mind." He said it all as if it was no big deal.

"Will I be able to do that?"

"Yes. But it is dangerous and should not be done unless it is necessary. You could do real damage." He shrugged a bit.

And that's when Àlvar burst out crying. I put him to my chest and sent Barr a look, telling him this conversation definitely wasn't over, but now I had to take care of my crying infant.

Àbram stood in the door with a bottle already. Sometimes I wondered if he were the one who could read minds or if he was timing the feedings. Àlvar ate about every four hours. Àbram was almost always ready with heated bottles.

I had to give the man a raise.

"So," I said as I had sat down and was feeding the now very content little boy. "The catacombs."

"Yes," Barr said. He had placed himself in the armchair across from me. "Where are they?"

"Below ground. You'll have to walk like thousands of steps to get down there. And parts of it is in ruins. It's a massive maze."

"Right. How will I not get lost?"

I shrugged, careful of not disturbing my son. "I don't know. I've only been down there once and that was with my father. All of my ancestors are buried down there."

"Maybe they are still there," Barr murmured.

I glanced at Islo, but he shrugged. He didn't know what Barr was talking about either.

"What do you mean?" I tried.

"Your ancestors were cut off from the spirit world because of the block. Where did their souls go?"

"Are you implying they're all hanging out down in the catacombs?" I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Where else would they go? If we went down there, maybe we could ask where the block is." He smiled as if he didn't just suggest we went and had a nice chat with my ancestors. The thought horrified me. Being caught down there for so long. My father might be down there.

"Do you think... My father's soul could be there?"

Barr softened a little. "I cannot see where else he should be."

"And do you think if we remove the block, they'd all go to the spirit world?"

"That is my theory, yes."

Àlvar could be reunited with our father. Our grandparents too. He could be surrounded by immediate family and we, Al and I, would be joining them after our deaths. I wanted this for us. For us to be able to finally rest in peace once that time came. We deserved it.

"Right, we should go. At least to pay tribute to my father."

"It's a good cover-up too, if someone asks what we're doing," Islo said.

"You wanna come?" I asked a little uneasy.

"The story will be better if we both go."

"But... The stairs, Islo. There's..." I cringed.

Islo pressed his lips together and looked down at his thigh. "I won't make it down there, will I," he said more as a statement than a question.

"I don't think so, no. And I don't want you to strain yourself too much. You're still healing." I put the empty bottle on the coffee table and took his hand in mine. "You could hurt yourself further and I... I can't live with myself if I knew I could've stopped any further pain and damage happening to you."

He nodded, his face still tight.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

He glanced at me. "Don't apologise. You're right." He rose to his feet, grabbing his cane and went to the bedroom, closing the door after him.

I looked down at Àlvar, trying hard to not cry in front of Barr.

"He is not angry with you," Barr said softly.

"No, but... I don't make it better."

"Someone has to be honest with him, Quinn. His body has limitations, and if we are going underground, his leg might not be good. You are saving your husband from pain. He deserves a husband who keeps him rooted in reality."

I nodded a bit and rose to my feet too. "Thanks, Barr. We'll figure out when it's time to go to catacombs later."

He rose too and smiled. "Give him time. He has to realise his body is not the same anymore."

I nodded again and smiled back.

I softly opened the door and peeked inside the bedroom. Islo sat on the bed, hunched over, the radio playing music. He looked up when I came in.

"I wanted to take my shoes off, but I can't bend my leg," he said.

"I'll help you." I put Àlvar down on the bed and he immediately rolled over and crawled over to his father, pulling on his shirt.

"Hello, my love," Islo said softly and picked up the attention-seeking boy. He placed a kiss on the boy's cheek and held him close to his chest, as I unbound the shoelaces on his leather shoes. I gently pulled them off and helped him put his legs up. I put a pillow under his knee, so he could keep his thigh elevated a little.

"How's that?" I asked.

"Thank you, it's good." He smiled and looked up from our son who was very occupied with one of the buttons on Islo's shirt. "Can you get me his cloth? Before he tries to eat my shirt."

"Of course," I snorted and went to the crib, grabbing the cloth and returned to the bed. Àlvar immediately reached out for it as it came into his line of sight and stuffed it in his mouth. "He loves that thing."

"He does. It's adorable," Islo murmured and got comfortable against the pillows in his back. He glanced up at me. "I'm sorry for how I reacted."

"No, please. I shouldn't-"

"You should," he interrupted. "I like to forget I can't do everything anymore. And you're right. I could hurt myself further. I need you to tell me to not do things that are stupid. And walking down thousands of steps is most definitely stupid. I just didn't want to be left behind while you went down there with Barr."

I leaned my cheek against his shoulder, looking at our child. He looked up at me and smiled with the cloth in his mouth. I ran my hand over his head and smiled back.

"I need you to not ruin your leg further," I whispered.

"I know," he said softly. "I just need... To get over this. Not let my pride be hurt by it. It's gonna take time."

"It's alright. Take as long as you need."

"And please continue to remind me I have to slow down."

"I will." I tipped my head up and kissed the side of his throat.

We went in the middle of the night. Barr was on high alert. The best thing about his powers was the fact that he could immediately hear if anyone were around. No one's head was ever silent, he said. It was especially good when he pulled me into the shadows of a pillar, as a guard was about to pass us. My heart was slamming hard in my chest as the sound of boots against the stone floor first became louder and then disappeared down the corridor.

It seemed like a lifetime ago, I had been able to walk these halls without anyone stopping me. But them stopping for me, bowing for me. I wasn't a prisoner back then. I wasn't confined to my apartment and the gardens. I realised I had missed this. I had missed strolling around the stronghold. I had played in these halls as a child with Al and Àlvar. I wanted my children to play here too.

This only fuelled me and made me even more determined to make it to the catacombs. We needed to get there, to find even just one soul who could tell us exactly where the block was. Telling us it was in the tunnels was maybe all the info they thought we needed, Al and her armies. But I wondered if she even realised how big these tunnels were and that they practically ran under the entire city and not just the castle. I mean, I had used some of them to smuggle lovers in and out in the past. Just to get past the walls around the stronghold without any prying eyes.

We kept going until we found the doors leading down to the catacombs. I tried pulling on them, but they were locked.

"Hold on," Barr said and put his hand on the door. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. A series of clicks sounded from the door and then it slowly opened.

"That's... Amazing," I said with wide eyes.

"You will be able to do this too one day," he said with half a smile and opened the door for me.

I hoped I would. Having that kind of control was awe-inspiring to me. I could barely fold a shirt and Barr could work out intricate locks without even seeing what was going on.

The staircase was dark, but we had brought copper torches. Everything looked old down here and it smelt of moisture. Everything about this reminded me of the cells. I knew these tunnels weren't connected to the dungeon, but it was built of the same stone, smelt the same.

I stopped and leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath.

"Quinn?" Barr stopped further down and shone his torch at me.

"I can't breathe," I panted and sat down on the steps.

Barr came back up and sat down next to me, taking my hand in his. Images of Al emerged. Of how she had looked the last time Barr had seen her. How strong she was but also how vulnerable she was. How she had hugged him when he supported her. And I felt the hug, down to the cool metal of her roprosthetic against my skin.

I opened my eyes and looked at him. I wasn't thinking of the dungeon anymore, I was only thinking of my sister. How close she was to getting here and how it just... Helped. Getting my thoughts diverted to something else. Something empowering rather than some of the worst happenings of my life.

Barr hauled me back up to my feet and offered me a nod. "Are you alright to continue?"

"Yeah, thank you," I said a little hoarsely and let go of his hand.

"Remember, your memories cannot touch you here. And I am here with you. Nothing will happen to you, I promise. Even if it means I will have to expose myself."

That did help. I knew even with the block Barr could protect me. He was so strong. Powerful. And fearless. I admired him immensely for that.

We pressed on. The stairs got more slippery the further down we went. And it seemed like the darkness only grew thicker too. I didn't like it, but every time I felt myself slipping, I grabbed onto Barr and he reminded me of the moments I had been strong, myself. When I had been fearless. He'd also fill my head with landscapes. Amazing landscapes I had never seen before. I knew they were from his travels and some were from his home in the spirit world. And it soothed me to think of the world outside of these walls.

We finally made it to the bottom, and I steered us to the left, to the catacombs. Being here again immediately reminded me of the day my father brought me. How he told me about all my ancestors. I had never felt more like an av Stál than that day. I was thinking now that that was his intention. He definitely wanted me to feel connected to his family, his whole bloodline, because I was. I was his son as much as Àlvar was and even if he wasn't the most explicit man, he had tried. He had his own ways of telling me, I belonged here.

We finally got to the catacombs. The light from the torches was almost swallowed by the darkness, but oddly enough I didn't feel afraid anymore. Something about the whole place felt compelling and I was drawn in. I gently slid my fingers over one of the stone coffins. This was the first av Stál. The first to be touched by the spirits and have their blood coloured blue.

"This is Bene. They were the first of our line."

"I know them. They're quite eccentric," Barr said and smiled. "I've always liked their androgyny. Did you know, they don't prescribe to any gender?"

"Yeah, it was quite famous. Now here in Andaheim it's quite common to not prescribe to one."

"Some of the spirits don't either." Barr touched the stone coffin too. "They won't be here since they're in the spirit world."

"We need to go further in. The oldest are closest to the entrance."

"Right," Barr said and continued further into the darkness.

When we came to my father's coffin, I stopped. I put my hand on it and sighed. Holy marks were carved into the stone, to bless him and his soul.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to come," I murmured and sat down on the cool stone floor. I put the torch next to me, lighting up the coffin. "If you're here, I need your help. Desperately. I don't know if you know what's happening... Or if your soul is even here. If you even want to talk to me."

I sighed deeply.

"I need you. I know I'm grown and shouldn't need my father anymore, but I do. Desperately so. I have a son too. And a husband. My husband has a daughter..." I trailed off and sighed. Barr had gone on further down the catacombs, leaving me with the coffin alone. "Please, Dad."

"Quinn," a soft voice said from right next to me.

I froze, my eyes widened, and I very slowly turned my head. My father sat next to me on the floor. Except he didn't look... Real. There was a shine to his skin that wasn't natural. He also looked younger than what I remembered. Like the pictures from before Àlvar was born.

"Dad," I said with a sob, tears streaming down my face.

"Sweet boy, you're so grown." He smiled softly. He had a beard just like I remembered. I didn't remember much but his beard.

I didn't know what to say and I wasn't sure I could even talk. I had something in my throat, and I was sure it was a sob. I didn't wanna sit here and cry like a child. I dried my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt.

"You have a son?" he tried, still smiling softly at me.

"I-I do," I stammered through the clog in my throat. "His name is Àlvar. He's six months old. And he smiles all the time, except when he's hungry. Then he's grumpy."

Dad snorted. "Just like you. You were such a happy baby."

I nodded and sniffled. "I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner. Or fixed this sooner. Àlvar is in the spirit world with the rest of our ancestors."

"You didn't know, Quinn. You always blame yourself for mistakes you didn't make. Like when Alvina broke the vase in the throne room and you said it was your fault for not stopping her." He chuckled a bit. "You have your spirit here, Quinn. You did what I never managed to do."

"You... Tried to find the block," I breathed.

He nodded. "I thought it was in Bursaaq. Your brother insisted on going. The war was raging and... I never found it. It wasn't until I came down here, I realised I had been looking in all the wrong places. I thought since the energy was the strongest in Bursaaq, they did something to contain it there. I had it all wrong. Your sister and you. You're doing it right. And I'm so proud of you both."

I bit down on my lip and nodded, drying my eyes before the tears fled them. "I'll make sure you get to the spirit world. But I need to break the block, and I'm not sure where it is. Just that it's here somewhere."

"It is. It's under the throne room. It broke a little when the rebels attacked the stronghold. It won't take much to destroy it completely."

"Under the throne room," I repeated and rose to my feet. "Right, that's... That's what I needed."

He smiled a sad smile then. "Stay a little longer?"

I was close to break down crying again. But I sat down, next to the trapped soul of my father and stayed with him a little longer. I told him I had met my mother. More about the kids. And about Islo. A bit about my life and how I was dealing with everything.

I had needed this conversation more than I realised.

"Under the throne room. Shouldn't be too hard to find," Islo said softly and kissed my chest.

"No, it shouldn't be. We've done ours now. Now we wait."

"Yes. You did so well, Quinn." He looked so proud from his position on my chest. I ran my fingers through his wavy hair, loving the soft feel of the locks.

"He said he was proud of me," I whispered.

Islo smiled and hugged me closer. "He should be. You've done admirably."

"I didn't know how much I've craved to hear those words from him."

"I think everyone craves those words from their parents. My father told me he was proud of me the day I graduated from the university. Very few moments have been happier than that."

I smiled. "You never speak of your parents."

"They're dead." He shrugged a little.

"Do you not wanna talk about them?" I asked hesitantly.

He sighed a bit and then looked up at me, meeting my gaze. "Ask me anything."

"When did they die?"
"Not long after mine and Cat's wedding."

"What happened?"

"Car accident," he breathed. "Right here in the city. They had just moved here to be closer to me and Cat."

"And not long after your wife died too..." I murmured.

"Yeah, a year later or so." He clenched his jaw.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because I didn't want to, to be completely honest. I didn't want you to view me differently. And when people realise what I've been through, they always view me differently."

I started massaging his scalp and he sighed contently. "And you're not afraid I'll view you differently now?"

"No. I trust you."

I kissed his forehead and he tipped his head up, kissing me on the mouth.

"I'm very pleased to hear that, Islo. More than I can properly... Explain." I couldn't help but chuckle a little. "Besides, it's not like I'm in any position to judge. Not that I'm comparing my pain to yours."

"I know what you mean, Sweetness. I don't know if that has anything to do with this though. I think it's more about the fact that we have a loving marriage, we have a child together. If I can trust you with my life and my children, I can trust you with my story too."

I moved so I was on my side, facing him. I moved in and kissed him as lovingly as I could. I was overwhelmed with the beauty of his words. No one had trusted me like this before. I had never been anyone's first pick but now I was. I was Islo's through and through, just like he was mine. We were almost like one entity while still being completely separate people with different wants and needs. And it was beautiful. Our marriage was beautiful as was our family.

Beauty really was the only cure to the ugliness that had happened to the both of us. Not a proper cure, but a tool to help us heal. Something to live for. Something to fight and grow for.

"I'm so happy," I murmured against his lips. "Despite it all, deep down, I'm happy."

I could feel him smiling. I didn't want to open my eyes just yet. I wanted to live in just the feeling of my husband's body close to mine. His lips on mine.

"I'm happy too," he whispered. "It feels so weird to say that, all things considered."

"I know. I feel selfish."

"Good thing only I heard it," he whispered and kissed me again.

"Keep my secret?" I asked, smiling again.

"If you keep mine."

I kissed him again. It felt like we were teenagers, sharing dirty secrets with each other under the covers so no one could hear us. And I loved that about Islo. He was a very smart aristocrat, but he could act like a right fool with me too. He didn't take himself too seriously with me. And it was freeing because I was a fool most of the time, but Islo never made me feel bad about it. There also was the age difference between us, and of course I was more immature than Islo. He was over thirty now and I wasn't even twenty-five. But he never made me feel guilty or bad for being immature. He couldn't really expect that of me, but it didn't feel like he did. He met me where I was at, and most of the time the age difference didn't even matter. I certainly didn't think much of it.

"Islo," I murmured.

"Yes," he breathed and ran his hand down my back.

"Do you ever think about the fact that I'm younger than you?"

He pulled back and raised a brow at me. "Uhm, no. Can't say that I do."

I flashed him a reassuring smile. "Good. Just wanted to be sure, you didn't find me... Immature. Or something."

He chuckled and shook his head. "I don't. You're not more immature than I am anyways. Maybe we're both immature."

"I don't mind if that's the case."

He moved so his chin was over my head and his arm around me. I loved when we cuddled like this. I felt so safe and protected like this. He'd trace the circle tattoos on my back, and I place kisses on his collarbones.

I woke up to Islo murmuring my name in my ear. I groaned tiredly and looked back at him. He moved in and softly kissed me, grabbing my hip, and pressing my ass back against him.

I chuckled and stretched my body, so I was pushing myself back at him. He exhaled loudly and kissed my throat and shoulder, running his hand over my body.

We laid there for a while, just enjoying each other. It was very soft, and I definitely needed it to go slow to properly wake up, if Islo wanted me to do anything. But it didn't seem like he was looking for participation. He was enjoying himself on his own and he seemed almost like... Before his leg was broken. Maybe we had finally found a position that allowed him to do whatever he wanted. I really hoped so.

It became clear I was too in my head right now and I needed to get out of it. Especially when my husband was doing pretty much everything in his power to make me feel comfortable. That was unfair of me.

I moved my head and received a kiss. I smiled. "I love you," I murmured.

"You know I love you too, Sweetness," he whispered and slid his hand down my undergarments.

It was hard to not be loud. So hard. I bit down on the pillow, but it didn't really work, as moans pushed through my clenched teeth.

Islo only seemed to get more excited by my struggle. He pulled my undergarments down and pushed inside of me. I whimpered and buried my face in the pillow, pushing it to my face with my hands.

But my treacherous husband didn't go easy on me. He went harder. Harder than he had been able to in quite a while. And it didn't seem like he was in any pain at all.

And I loved it. My head turned off completely and I was just fully letting myself enjoy what my husband was doing to me. I had missed being taken care of. I usually was very active but sometimes it was nice to just lay there and not do a single thing. I had missed this so much.

"I wanna see you," he murmured in my ear.

I turned on my back for him and smiled at him as he slowly positioned in between my legs. He winced and a pained expression travelled over his face. I took his face in my hands and brought him down so I could kiss him. He relaxed on top of me, letting me guide him back inside of me.

It all became softer. A lot more about love than desire and lust. And I couldn't bear it. I was overwhelmed with all the feelings from the night before, with how much I loved Islo.

I circled my arms around him and tried to muffle myself against his shoulder, but it was hard. And when he finished almost immediately after I did, he shoved his head in the pillow beside mine. His back was going up and down in rapid motions, him panting hard.

I gently got his face out of the pillow, kissed him, and then got him down on my chest.

"Gods, Quinn," he panted and smiled up at me.

I chuckled through my own panting. "That was amazing."

"Yeah?"

"Are you actually asking, or do you just want me to keep complimenting your skills in bed?"

"Compliment me," he murmured softly and kissed my chest.

"You're the best I've ever been with."

He stopped kissing me and lifted his head, looking at me with wide eyes. "Wait, really?"

"Is that hard to believe?" I arched a brow at him.

"I uh... Guess. Yeah, it's a little hard to believe. Especially now."

"I love you," I said and lifted up, kissing him. "That's what makes it so much more special. Don't you agree?"

He smiled and nodded, cuddling up to me and urging me to turn my back on him again.