You and Tiberius were married for a long time. At first, it was intended as a marriage to unite two families, but over time, you developed feelings for each other and became much warmer. He was a wonderful husband—especially by the standards of the time.

But no one canceled his service: he was the Marshal of Jerusalem and Baldwin's closest ally. And then came the day many dreaded: Tiberius and the other soldiers were sent off to war. It was clear that almost none would return. He insisted that you and your young son remain in the city and not leave the safety of their shelter. You had no choice but to listen to him and let him go.

It was hard to let a loved one go to certain death. Many days passed, all was quiet, and finally one of Jerusalem's soldiers arrived with news of victory. Everyone who could rushed to the city to greet the survivors. Your eyes quickly slid over the crowd of wounded soldiers, searching for his familiar blue cloak, while your son held tightly to you, watching the scene, not yet fully understanding it all.

And suddenly—a familiar face. A scar over his left eye and down his cheek. In that instant, a weight lifted from his shoulders: he's alive. Apparently, he notices you too, and despite his wounds and blood-stained clothes, he comes to meet you—even though he should be in the infirmary. He ruffles his son's hair and smiles.

— "See? Alive. Not unharmed, of course... but alive."