Evren stands cold and frozen as her sister embraces her, only coming to life as Indira pulls away again. She chokes out a single laugh at her sister’s concern for her wellbeing.
“Me? I’m fine,” she insists dismissively, her voice cracking, though she knows she will have to tell Indira everything at some point. “I just… I can’t believe you’re here.” She takes another moment to look her sister over, to see what time has done to her body. Indira is grown up and beautiful, the perfect mixture of their parents’ images: a living reminder of the things they had lost. Evren lets out a shaky breath, trying not to think just yet of the news she would have to break to Indira, and lets her eyes drop to the roan colt.
“Is he yours?” she asks in a soft voice, though the answer is obvious. Though the child has the coloration of a stranger, Orhan’s blood is undoubtedly in him. “He’s beautiful.”
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