There remain the married lovebirds in the open kitchen.
Neva stirs the mixed vegetable chicken curry, cooking, simmering in the pot over the flaming stove.
And adhered to her frame behind is Rhett, his chin resting on her shoulder, his strong arms wrapped around her waist.
It is warm within, and warm in the air infused with the slightly sweet, savory and spiced smell of steaming food.
"I'm sorry about Rhean," Rhett murmurs. "He's not usually this barbaric."
Neva chuckles lightly. "Barbaric?"
She shakes the wooden ladle to rid of dripping gravy, then sets it aside on the spoon rest.
Rhett hums in response.
Neva covers the pot with it's transparent lid. She then places her hands over his—and tilts her head to glance at him.
He wears a sour look on his face, and Neva frowns.
"He's just troubled. It's me who should have been more careful. And don't apologise as if he isn't my own," she says, brushing the tip of their noses.
Rhett scrunches his nose and smiles.
He kisses her lips.
"I'm sorry about Isaiah too," she sighs.
"They're both barbaric," he confirms, making her chuckle.
It is two hours after the incident.
The doctor arrived and checked Inaya, as well as the two boys.
Fortunately, Inaya's injuries are minor.
The bruised ribs will heal in less than six weeks.
The bluish bump on her forehead should fade in about two weeks.
Isaiah and Rhean haven't caused much damage to each other, aside from some shallow scratches on their arms—and a few bruises on their jaws and lips.
"How am I supposed to explain us to them, Rhett? About their father? And what if they never accept each other?"
"Shh... You worry too much," he whispers. "It'll all work out."
Neva sighs and leans in to him, her taut muscles finally loosening. Purposelessly, she keeps staring at the wall opposite.
"I don't want to burden you with another bad news, but I should probably warn you," Rhett says, their bodies slowly swaying. Neva cranes her neck to meet his eyes.
"What?" Her voice falters.
"Raka escaped."
Neva's heart sinks into her stomach.
Rhett's concerned gaze lingers on her pale face.
"H–how?" Neva looks away, her breathing growing heavier.
Rhett kisses her neck—then he gingerly drifts up to kiss her jaw.
"Got lucky? Elk and his incompetent agents, always," he mutters, the muscle in his jaw ticking.
Four out of twelve soldiers have suffered lethal injuries. Most of Raka's men were either killed or captured.
The rest escaped. Knight could never, never manage to do a clean job.
Sensing her body tensing, he tightens his hold around her. "Don't worry. His freedom is only for a fraction," he assures in a tender voice.
Rhett buries his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in deeply, she sighs.
Neva checks on the bubbling, low spiced chicken curry, flavoured richer with finely chopped tomatoes. It cooks a low heat—needing about twelve to fifteen minutes more.
Inaya has already fallen asleep after Neva had fed her yogurt with fruits and gave her medicines.
There is still enough rice left from what May had cooked earlier, along with some side dishes. Neva is only preparing the dinner for the remaining four of them.
"Mumma?"
Neva freezes.
She and Rhett turn to see Isaiah bolting toward them.
Neva immediately pushes Rhett away from her. Isaiah's face is flushed red with anger.
"Don't touch my mumma!" he shouts, shoving Rhett harshly away by his legs—the highest he can reach.
Rhett lets him.
Isaiah then clutches onto Neva's legs, glaring fiercely at Rhett.
His cheeks are round and puffed up—quivering with anger.
Neva bites her lips and trails her eyes until they find a calm Rhett.
"Isaiah, he isn't a bad man," Neva utters softly, cupping his face and making him look at her.
The boy shakes his head roughly. "Papa said he's bad. He kidnapped you."
Isaiah glares at Rhett again. "Papa will find us and kill you!"
"Isaiah!"
"Who taught you such bad words?"
Isaiah's chin trembles, his watery eyes piercing at Rhett.
Neva sighs in frustration. What a mess!
She swoops him up by the underside of his arms. He puckers his lips at her. Neva pinches his nose.
It always breaks Isaiah whenever she raises her voice.
"I'll excuse myself," Rhett says.
Neva only looks at him sorrowfully. He offers her a half–smile and walks out the kitchen.
Neva turns to Isaiah. She wipes a single tear that floats down his cheek.
"Silly boy. Papa was mistaken. He won't hurt us."
Isaiah keeps his head lowered, tiny fingers pulling at the ribbons on the bodice of her white coquette gown.
"Trust me. Everything is alright.
And you can't use words like that again. Hmm?" Neva searches his eyes.
Isaiah nods slightly.
Neva senses someone watching them.
She turned to find a withdrawn Rhean standing in the doorway of the living room.
He immediately shifts on his heels to leave.
"Rhean," she calls out.
"Wait, come have dinner with us."
He doesn't respond, simply standing there with his back turned to her.
Neva places Isaiah down and moves to approach Rhean, but Isaiah stands stiff and gripped her dress.
Neva purses her lips and gently frees the fabric from his fingers, instead taking his hand.
"Trust me, okay?"
She leads them toward Rhean.
"Come here, baby."
Isaiah's pupils tremble as he looks up at his mother. She had used the name she only reserved for him and his sister.
Now, he detests Rhean even more.
Rhean finally turns, but he doesn't find the courage to meet her eyes.
.
.
.
Neva now has both of them seated on the three–seater sofas, while she kneels before them.
They sit side by side, and show no signs of aggression.
"Are you still angry with me, Rhean?"
Rhean glances at her, then shakes his head weakly.
"I'm sorry for making you sad," she says gently. Then with a stern expression, she says, "But what you did to Inaya was wrong. You've caused her pain."
Rhean's eyes flicker with guilt. He lookes down at his hands placed on his lap.
He had been rebuked by his father too.
He knows he is at fault. His attitude was imprudent—he had wounded Inaya.
But he hadn't mean it.
"I'm sorry," Rhean mumbles.
"Not me," Neva says In a softened voice. "You should apologize to Naya. Will you make it up to your sister?"
"Naya is not his sister!" Isaiah snaps harshly.
"Isaiah," Neva warns.
"I want him gone. I hate him!"
"Quiet!"
Isaiah stares at her begrudgingly.
"Behave," she says firmly.
Neva gathers their hands into her own. "You're both mine. Inaya and you—both of you are my own children."
"He's not!" Isaiah's lips quivers, tears pricking his eyes again.
"Listen," Neva sighs, her shoulders slouching.
She's tired.
Tired and out of words.
"Isaiah, you know I don't have many memories, right?" she begins, closely paying attention to his changing expressions.
"You see, I was already married to Rhean's father. I only found out three days ago. Rhean—he's yours and Naya's big brother."
"What about papa?" Isaiah asks.She is married to his father too.
"It's not right to have two husbands."
Neva chuckles at that.
Then, smiling ruefully at him, she assures, "I know very well." Caressing his soft cheek, she gives it a gentle squish.
Neva knows Rhean is staring at them, and she regrettably reads through the emotions flickering across his face—of ponders and envy.
"I'm just a little angry at your papa because he kept Rhean and his father a secret from me. Will you give me time until I'm able to talk to your father?" Neva asks softly.
Although, she has no clue if she'll ever speak to Ishmael again.
She squeezes his hand and asks, "Please?"
Isaiah nods. "Then you lied to me and Naya."
"Huh?" Neva raises her brows.
"We aren't playing a game," he accuses.
"Right," Neva clicks her tongue. Gosh, she doesn't like him being so keen.
"Well, it's still a game. An adult game.
And adult games are serious and scary. So you have to stick with mumma and obey no matter what. Understand?"
Isaiah tightens his lips. "Yes."
"Good boy," Neva smiles. Then she trails her gaze to a meek Rhean, then back at Isaiah. They are small—but they are growing so fast. They are her sons, and she finds them heartwrenchingly beautiful.
A sudden shift stirs her mind. She soaks in the revealation—the reality that their features mirror their fathers'.
Such absurdity was this; this game of life.
"So, now you both know you're brothers."
Their expressions falter.
Rhean is the first to respond with a nod.
She finds Isaiah still reluctant.
He still can't forgive Rhean concerning Inaya. But her assuring eyes have Isaiah nodding too.
"Good. Be kind and gentle to each other. Now, let's have dinner..."
Neva's words wither, her eyes widening in a dramatically slow pace.
At once, she rises to her feet and rushes to the kitchen.
"Mumma?" Isaiah calls after her.
But Neva doesn't hear his worry—for she is panicking at the faint, burned smell of her chicken curry.
How long had it been?!