Chapter • 58

♱ •⋅ 1750 B.C. ⋅• ♱ •⋅ Calisto ⋅• ♱

Asra had simply gone to her palace taking the child they called a saint with her.

"Still worried?" Azrael asked me about the plaster pile.

"No."

I lied.

"Of course..." he snorted and crossed his arms over his chest as Loren ran ahead of us, in his little hands were freshly picked flowers.

"Look Daddy! I brought flowers!"

The happiness in the childish and sweet face of my son made me question how someone was able to harm that little being.

"Thank you, dear," I said crouching in front of him and receiving the flowers he had picked for me.

"Do you think Asra would like that? I remembered her when I saw the red flowers back there, but..." he stopped and his eyes stared at the ground "she’s far away... and I can’t give the flowers to her anymore."

As he had left very early as soon as we quarreled about the saint - Asra did not bother to take care of anything else and thanks to this did not say goodbye to Loren.

It was hard to explain to him that she had