The Princess of Terrasen

Ch. 28

It took her a while to recover from the pain, but when she did, she was walking up the stairs to find her mother when she ran into Ilona.

"What happened? Is the babe here?"

Ilona nodded, eyes shining 

"Her name's Lyria, and she's so pretty, she has golden hair and Mother was so happy to see it. She said far too many of her children had silver hair."

"True enough," Aiyra grinned, tugging lightly on Ilona's golden curls. "now there's two of you."

"Three, Gav has golden hair too."

"It's a different shade entirely, 'Lona."

"'Lona?"

"What, do our brothers not have a nickname for you?"

Ilona shook her head, 

"They're too busy doing their own things to come up with nicknames for me."

"Well, you've got two sisters now, so be ready for plenty of nicknames."

Ilona beamed, but said quietly 

"There's not many nicknames for Ilona."

Aiyra pondered this, then conceded a nod.

"True enough. But knowing Mother, she gave you an overdramatic middle name that we might be able to use."

"I doubt it. It's Nehemia. Ilona Nehemia Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius."

"I'll come up with something." she ruffled Ilona's hair before they came back to the room she had left her mother in.

Ilona knocked and they waited for confirmation before entering. Mother was pale and tired looking, but she was glowing with pride as she gazed at the female in Father's arms. Aiyra said nothing, just held her arms out wordlessly and Father gently placed the child into her arms. Even in her youngest sister's small pink face, she could see the uncanny resemblance to Aelin herself. 

"Lyria," she whispered, the word sweet on her tongue as she smiled at the newborn. "she's beautiful."

"Well, she does take after me. You lot got bad luck with Rowan's looks."

"You've never complained about that before." Father said smoothly, quietly and Mother straightened slightly, challenge in her eyes. Ilona caught her gaze and rolled her eyes, prompting Aiyra to hand Lyria back and leave the room. 

She wanted to try shifting again. She hadn't been able to do it since that fateful day, but maybe now...

She decided the battlements were too crowded with lookout sentries, instead heading up to one of the turrets. She was alone, and for the first time in a month, felt the fierce, howling wind against her skin. It welcomed her like an old friend, caressing her face, lifting tendrils of her hair to fly across her eyes, cutting her vision into strips. Her clothes did nothing to protect her from it's bite, but she did not want them to. She wanted the wind to bite at her. There was always something refreshing about it. 

"Not planning to splatter yourself on the stones, are you?" she heard a rough voice behind her, but she didn't move-sniffing the air instead. Aedion Ashryver, the wind whispered, biting gently at her ear before disappearing.

She looked down, eyes widening slightly as she realised that she was balancing on the edge of the turrets, only the tips of her toes keeping her falling as her body arched forward, more and more, aching to taste the wind again.

She took a step back.

"I missed the skies," is all she says 

"I suppose it's true, then, that once you taste the wind you always walk with your head up towards the sky."