Page 98 of Dalla's Royal Guards

Inside, Sven stood, tall and quiet. His arms enfolded her, strong and safe.

“They loved me,Far. They still do. But I couldn’t stay. I didn’t want to leave them.”

“Everything will be alright,” he said softly. “Come, tell us about them.”

And she did. She told her mother and father about the two men who had captured her heart. Filled her soul. She shared about their father, Hari, who made cookies with Cianna. She told them about the beauty of Narva and the fight for freedom in Kashir. Olaf was captivated by all the changes, sighing as he listened. Yet none of her memories could fill the hole in her heart.

Over the next few weeks, she worked beside her mother in the gardens, helped her father brush the horses, and rode along the cliffs with Olaf. She slept in her old bed, listened to the howling of the wind at night, and watched the sun rise every morning over the same stretch of ocean she had known as a child.

But the ache remained.

Four months later, she sat on the cliff again, waiting.

Olaf came to her, barefoot and quiet. He dropped beside her, staring at the horizon.

“Is the world below as scary as it seems?” he asked.

Dalla smiled. “No. Not if you find someone to walk it with you.”

“Look, the sun is waking up,” Olaf exclaimed, rising to his feet.

Dalla reluctantly rose to her feet and watched as the first rays of sunlight touched the water, turning the sea into molten gold.

“You know, I’ll see you again,” Olaf said. “You, Runa, Aesa. One day. Down there. Until then… I’ll watch over you.”

Dalla turned to him, surprised. “Olaf, what do you?—”

Her breath caught in her throat as he stepped forward and pushed her.

“Olaf!” she cried as she fell over the edge of the cliff.

“I love you, Dalla. Protect them,” he called as she fell.

The wind whipped past her. Light flared around her. And then she was gone.

Asta and Sven joined Olaf.

They stood together, watching the sunrise.

“She’s going back,” Asta whispered.

Sven wrapped an arm around her. “Yes.”

Olaf wiped at his cheeks. “I’ll miss her.”

“She’ll carry our love with her,” Sven said.

Together, they watched the shimmer of light illuminate the sky.

Dalla was going home.

Back to where love waited. Back to where she belonged.

Twenty-Six

CIA Headquarters: Langley, Virginia

Debra Carr-Myers exhaled slowly as she stared at the neatly organized box on her empty desk. Her office, always immaculate, now looked sterile. Decommissioned.