Beloved by The Moon

Chapter 7

The moon hung brightly in the night sky, casting a silvery glow over the remote town, where stars sparkled like scattered jewels. She had always been a city girl, but after her parents' tragic accident, her life took an unexpected turn. Her uncle adopted her, and together they travelled from place to place, sometimes to such remote locations that electricity hadn't yet arrived.

He was a devoted historian, deeply immersed in his field. Occasionally, she accompanied him on his work trips around the globe, attending lectures and seminars. She often found herself nestled in a corner of the room, absorbed in a book he had given her, stealing glances at him as he delved into his research. His focus was magnetic, and she admired the way he engaged with his colleagues, whose visits brought gifts of chocolates and little trinkets for her. The women, in particular, added a touch of joy to her life; they would take her out for evenings filled with laughter and stories whenever her uncle was busy with his studies.

But then came the cancer. Watching him succumb to the relentless grip of the disease was heartbreaking. She witnessed his vibrant spirit wither away, piece by piece, until the man who had once ignited her curiosity became a shadow of his former self.

In the wake of his passing five years ago, she chose a different path. Instead of following in his footsteps to uncover the secrets of the past, she found herself drawn to the complexities of the present. She immersed herself in the study of criminology and eventually became a private investigator, channelling her grief into a relentless pursuit of truth and justice, hoping to honour his memory in her own way.

Initially, the cases she handled were relatively straightforward: tracking down personal information for stalking victims, uncovering clues about cheating spouses, and helping an elderly couple reconnect with their runaway son. But then the tide turned, and she found herself confronting unsolved murders and kidnappings.

Contrary to Ian's belief, she was not the best in her field. She relied heavily on her intuition, often pushing the boundaries of her investigation. Some might consider her methods questionable—picking locks, hacking into databases, and sticking her nose where it didn't belong.

In the end it delivered results.That's all that matters.

"Naram-Sin, beloved by the moon." That's what she had read on Wikipedia about the ancient king who claimed divinity for himself. Her uncle might have had a stroke if he knew she found such information about a renowned figure through a simple online search.

He led her into his study, a sanctuary steeped in dark academia charm. The room was a tapestry of shadows and soft light, with walls lined from floor to ceiling with books—some dusty tomes, others gleaming with fresh spines, each holding whispers of forgotten knowledge. An antique globe rested in one corner, its surface illuminated by a flickering candle, casting an ethereal glow that danced across the room.

The study was a reflection of him—dark, alluring, and wrapped in mystery, yet infused with a hint of warmth. A quirky standing lamp shaped like a sunflower stood beside his reading nook, its bright petals offering a surprising touch of whimsy against the otherwise somber decor.

"It was a gift," he had confessed, a hint of fondness in his voice.

"If it was a gift, then the sender must have a great personality," she had teased, her smile breaking the serious air.

In addition to the books, two unusually large armchairs sat invitingly around a vintage table nestled between them, their deep upholstery a rich burgundy. The corners of the room were filled with artefacts from ages past—intricate sculptures and faded tapestries that spoke of stories long gone. Just then, Emma entered, carrying a tray laden with coffee and delicate pastries. The rich aroma filled the air, a comforting contrast to the ancient weight of history surrounding them.