Crystal Moon
faded.
    “I missed you so.” On the last word a series of hoarse
    coughs racked the child’s thin body. When they eased, she
    squeezed him tight and began to squirm in his embrace.
    Reluctantly, Kyne released her. Like a whirlwind, the five
    annum old Zoa rarely stayed in one place for more than a few
    moments. It was as if she knew her life would be short, and
    she wanted to experience everything before it ended.
    She wrapped her arms around Hakan’s leg. “I missed you
    too.”
    The big beast stood rock still as she pulled his head down
    and planted a kiss on his nose. She looked up and spotted the
    woman. “Who is she?” A hint of hostility crept into her voice.
    Kyne reached up and lifted the woman off Hakan. She
    stood silently at his side, her gaze on Zoa. “A friend.” The
     
    words stuck in his throat.
    Zoa put her fisted hands against her hips and glared at
    Kyne. “You don’t have lady friends. Etam said you’re a monk,
    and monks don’t have lady friends.” She stuck out her lower
    lip in an “I-told-you-so” way.
    Kyne smiled at the girl’s vehemence. Lately the ten annum
    old boy, Etam, had become Zoa’s hero. She followed the brash
    boy around, imitating his walk, his talk and spouting his words
    as gospel, much to Etam’s chagrin and often to Kyne’s
    embarrassment when she repeated something inappropriate.
    Her belligerent stance dissolved as another coughing spell
    took her. When it ended she turned her frown on the woman.
    “What’s your name?”
    The woman knelt in front of Zoa. “Sianna.”
    “Sianna?” Kyne asked. “Daughter of Light? Hardly an
    appropriate name for...” He caught himself. Laila. Sianna.
    Whatever her name, she was DiSanti’s daughter. “It matters
    not what you call yourself. It doesn’t change who you are.”
    Sianna refused to raise her gaze to him. “It’s what my
    friends call me. What do your friends call you?” she asked the
    little girl.
    Confusion replaced Zoa’s glare. Her eyes searched Sianna’s
    face for what seemed a long time, then she smiled. “Zoa.”
    “That’s a lovely name.” Sianna held out her hand. “May I
    call you Zoa?”
    Shyly Zoa put her small, grubby fingers inside Sianna’s
    slender ones. “I s’pose.” Her voice was a low wheeze.
    Kyne heard the congestion in Zoa’s small lungs, her difficulty
    in breathing, her constant struggle to pull in enough air.
    “Thank you, Zoa.”
    “Do you want to see my kitties?” Zoa asked.
    Amazement washed over Kyne. Only a select few were
    allowed to see Zoa’s menagerie. She never warmed to
    strangers. Too much pain and deceit in her young life had killed
    in her the easy trust most children had.
    Before Sianna could answer, Kyne said, “Not now, poppet.
    Where’s Grenna?” He searched the thinning crowd for sight
    of Zoa’s plump nanny. Not seeing the motherly Grenna
     
    anywhere, he swept Zoa into his arms and handed her to
    Graham. “Return this little minx to her jailer to be fed, bathed
    and put to bed.”
    “My pleasure, Rul Cathor,” Graham said. “Being a lady’s
    maid has always been my greatest ambition.”
    Zoa giggled and clung to Graham’s broad chest. She
    appeared heartbreakingly tiny and fragile in the man’s grip.
    Swinging the girl onto his shoulders, Graham strode away. His
    low, teasing tones and Zoa’s laughter left Kyne with a strange
    ache of jealousy. With him, Zoa seldom laughed.
    “She loves you with every fiber of her small being.”
    Startled, Kyne looked down at the woman still kneeling at
    his feet. “I know.”
    With an unconscious grace, she rose and stood before him,
    her head barely reaching his shoulder. “Where is Zoa’s mother,
    your wife? Why doesn’t she greet you?”
    Kyne’s step faltered, then he moved on. “I have no life-
    mate. Zoa’s mother is dead. As is her father and her family.”
    Sianna hurried after him. “But she called you father?”
    “Many children here call me father.” But only Zoa claimed
    a

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