GOLDEN STRINGS

CHAPTER FIVE

ILLYRIA

Kore arrived in Windhaven with her son around midday. She felt the insistent staring of the warlords, the trainers and the soldiers. She could almost hear them think; Is the High Lord coming?

But Aidoneus would not come. When she told him of her plan to relocate to Windhaven, with their son, she'd almost witnessed the rage bubbling inside of him.

But then she'd said; He needs to be trained as a warrior too, he has immense power, but what if that fails him? He needs to know how to defend himself, how to survive.

Aidoneus gave her a sharp nod, and nothing more. His end of the bond had been sealed off. And here, miles away from the glittering city of Velaris, she wondered if she'd even know it if he were to die.

Kore gently shoved Rhys towards the training ring, and then made her way to the cabin.

#

The cabin had been enchanted by Aidoneus to attend to her every need, but she still swept the floors, lit the fireplace and started making dough for bread all on her own. It felt good to do these simple tasks, to remember the girl she'd once been, to lose herself in manual labor.

It was night by the time her eight year old stumbled through the door, a black eye and a bleeding back to boot.

She cleaned his wounds as they gazed at the stars out of the window, watching as the bastard children tickled one by one towards their tents.

Later that night she'd only drifted off for a few hours, but the sound of scuffling feet in the living room awoke her. With fear in her heart she rushed to Rhysand's room, only to find the bed vacant.

By the time she came into the living room, she was wild-eyed and panting.

Rhysand and a scrawny little bastard boy stood dripping off wet snow in the middle of the cabin.

Kore took a deep breath, and then she grabbed Rhys by the ear.

"What in the Cauldron's name were you thinking?!" Kore shrieked. "Have you lost your mind completely?!"

"You said he'd be sleeping in the freezing cold, mama!" Rhys rushed his words, stoically despite his red ear. "We have plenty of room."

Kore let him go, and looked away from his apologetic violet eyes.

"Go to your room, Rhysand."

"But-"

"Now."

She watched him retreat. And then Kore turned towards the little Illyrian boy. He looked much younger than Rhys, but then he was malnourished and dirty, and his wings were tucked in uncomfortably tight.

His hazel eyes flashed, and a blush marred his cheekbones.

"I am sorry, High Lady."

Kore could not help chuckle a little bit. She walked over to the boy and gently knelt before him.

"I am not a High Lady." She said softly. "My name is Kore."

The boy looked at her, confused. "Is you not the High Lord's mate then?"

"Yes." Kore said patiently. "But there is no such thing as a High Lady."

He nodded. For a moment they only gazed at each other. Kore's heart gave a yearning lurch. In that moment she'd recognized something in that little boy's eyes that she hadn't seen in a long while. Something that reminded her of herself, just before she'd become the High Lord's mate.

He was a survivor. And so was she.

"Do you have a name?"

"Cassian."