Epilogue

 

One Year Later

 

The Ferris wheel spun against the sky, brilliant blue and yellow lights flickering at the spokes. The Titan tore over its tracks, the yelps and squeals of passengers echoing across the bustling faire. Tourists and village families wandered the many beautiful shops boasting the best and most creative our Romany families proudly offered. Music, light and festive, floated along the street. The scents and sights of the Crescent Point Boardwalk lit up the night with frivolity and fun. A true success; Noble Island’s Romany families productive and proud, exactly as Siyah had dreamed.

I watched it all from a distance as I stood under the white marquee on the shores of Echo Cliffs. My mother fluttered with my sister as they affixed a crown of fuchsia atop my hair. I smiled while clutching the bouquet of wildflowers. Soft pink blooms trailed down in delicate tendrils stopping just above my bare feet. Soft footfalls sounded, and I turned to watch my father as he lit a torch staked into the sand, the flare of light glistening off the swirl of crystal beads woven along the bodice of my gown. I took in a breath, sure and steady as the first lilting notes of the violin began.

“It is time, little bird,” my father said, his voice hoarse. He stood in formal dress offering me his arm, the rich fabric and colors of our Romany ancestry setting off his dark eyes. A dagger hung at his waist, the handle encircled with rubies. It was a gift from Siyah on our engagement night.

“I love you, Papa,” I whispered as we walked.

He squeezed my hand, both of us taking in a breath when we turned the corner and took in the scene before us.

Luminaries sparkled like a river of light pouring out across the warm sand to the shore. The path led between white chairs draped with blue and white silk to a trail of rose petals winding towards a wedding arch. Dangling blooms of bright fuchsia and wisteria framed the glorious sunset. Pooling at the horizon, swaths of pink and purple clouds hovered in the golden light. Their sweet scent stirred in the gentle summer breeze and floated the delicate organza of my dress like wispy tendrils of smoke. My father led me towards him and my heart leapt with every step.

At the front of the aisle, Siyah turned, his beautiful eyes alight with the flames of the candles. He took in a breath, and his smile made my heart vault. He wore the deep black pants and shirt of our tradition. His dark leather boots and scabbard at his waist made him look every bit the Romany prince he truly had become.

“Comoara mea,” he whispered and held out his hand, enveloping me with warmth and strength.

I trembled in his grasp, so deeply moved because I knew the depth of his love for me. I whispered a prayer to my Lord in heaven who brought me through what I thought I could not face and led me to a future I dared not dream. Joy and hope. Faith and forgiveness.

Thank you, Father.