Hybern's Heiress (Shadowsinger Love Story)

Four

The moment she came home and locked eyes with the little child that was the light of her life, Arwen ran to him and pulled him into her arms tightly. She wept for a long time, and in return the little boy cried too when he saw her nana wept so much.

“Don’t cry, nana,” Tham pleaded softly, big green eyes moist and rimmed with red as he sweetly tried to wipe tears from her cheek with his little fingers.

Arwen smiled—a first genuine smile that actually reached her wet eyes ever since her captivity.

“I will not anymore,” she promised through her trembling voice, her smile bright as she gazed at her son. “Gi melin, malthen lass nín (I love you, my golden leaf).”

Thamrin had looked at her warily through his own reddened eyes, silently wondering and was a little scared that his nana had cried so much. “Gi melin, nana (I love you, mummy),” he replied nonetheless and cutely wipe his small nose with his hand.

Arwen let out a small chuckle at the way Tham attempt to speak her language. She planted a loving kiss at his forehead. A thought suddenly occurred to her, a second instinct that always came to her whenever she met Thamrin after quite a long time in his absence. “Have you eaten? Are you hungry?”

The small Illyrian boy nodded innocently as he watched his nana carefully. He saw the bruise on her cheek, but did not understand how it got there. He was too scared to ask her, somehow afraid his nana would cry again if he does. Arwen was immediately on her feet again, suddenly having a lot of energy as she did her best to find anything that she could make to feed her son.

The High Lord and the member of his court kept their promise.

He let them both live in peace, treating her just like they would to the rest of the people in Velaris.

She had dreaded the thought of trying to get back to normal life again, but relief soon washed over her the moment she realized that for some reason the people around her didn’t remember the day she was taken captive by the High Lord like some sort of criminal, let alone her being King Hybern’s Heiress. Nothing changed for her and her son, except the fact that she needed to explain to people why she now looked different; that it was a glamour she put on herself for a while ago until she was sure that she was safe.

That explanation alone is acceptable, for some people in Velaris were indeed a refugee like her. Some knew how it felt like to be hunted and not feeling safe, especially those who had a brush with her father’s kingdom.

It took a while for the people that she knew to get used to her true form. The stares didn’t bother her. She thought, eventually, it will wear off.

Although grateful for the new life given to her, Arwen never talked to any of Rhysand’s inner circle again. And if they ever met on the street or the market, they looked, but never attempt to approach her. And at those rare occasions, Arwen would always make a point to hasten whatever business she had so she could leave as quickly as possible.

Especially if Thamrin was around.

Little Thamrin didn’t remember much about his past except for the memory of the pain that he had when his wings had been clipped by his fellow Illyrian. At times she would catch him peering up the sky, watching as either of Rhysand’s family members would fly across the sky to the House of Wind. Deep down she was worried how it would be for Thamrin, growing up without the wings that should have been a part of his life. She wondered if having no wings would be like losing a limb for him, where the missing part of him would always haunt him.

Like a phantom of a missing limb. There, but not there.

“What are you looking at, ion nin (my son)?” she crouched to get to the same eye level as him, smiling, “The stars aren’t out yet.”