King Japhet stared quietly at a large painting of his family in a dimly lit passage. The painting was of him, Martha, Desmond, and Rowan. Damian hadn't been born and so he wasn't on it.
The soft amber colour of the old painting, hidden behind a glass frame, gleamed as the light rays from the candle lanterns fell on it, evoking a feeling of want in Japhet's heart. He could remember that day like it was only the day before; how they burst into laughter each time they made a pose, frustrating the poor old artist, and how they had to stand all day long until he was done.
His chestnut eyes, sparkling beneath the candle lanterns in the passage, betrayed nothing but his sorrow as he stared into his wife's eyes.
He raised a glass of wine toward the painting and uttered softly, "To your
