by D. E. Morris
“Really?”
“Really. But you have to listen to everything we say. Outside this castle there are no titles, at least not among us. Misuzu, Jaryn and I are equals until we need be otherwise, and you will be just a boy who has to listen to the adults he is with. Is that clear?”
“Very.” He was practically bouncing on his feet in excitement. “Does that mean I get to fly?”
“Yes, you get to-”
“I get to fly!” He looked as if he might explode for a moment, then remembered himself and tried to gather in his enthusiasm. “Thank you, Cailin...all of you. I swear I will follow every direction you give me without question.”
“We'll see about that,” Jaryn muttered. “Try to get some sleep. We leave first thing in the morning.”
Chapter Sixteen
The cool night air that blew in from the partially opened window did nothing to soothe the fever with which Ashlynn tried to sleep. This was the third night since she'd lost her child and she had grown all but numb to everything and everyone around her. Beside her slept Lilia, buried beneath the covers and nearly impossible to make out. She hadn't left Ashlynn's side since Jaryn commanded her to it. Most times she was grateful; Lilia knew when to speak and when to be silent, when to help Ashlynn, and when to leave her to her own devices. Even in the moments Ashlynn needed privacy, she was within earshot should she be needed. There had been quite a few times that Ashlynn felt the weight of sadness so strongly that she thought it would cripple her. Lilia would hold her up, comfort her, and do her best to soothe her. Mairead had joined them as well. She, too, slept in the bed on the other side of Lilia. Zarra should have been there with them - sweet Zarra who had so recently begun acting the young woman instead of the little girl.
Fresh sorrow washed over Ashlynn and she could bear her bed no longer. Pushing back the covers, she was careful as she slid her feet into boots and found her robe. Both girls had been so sensitive to every movement she made, anticipating anything she might need, that it was a wonder neither of them woke now. It was likely the exhaustion from always being on alert was finally catching up with them, and for that, Ashlynn was grateful. She appreciated their love for her and sense of duty, but sometimes all she wanted was a moment to herself.
The men stationed outside her door looked on her kindly, almost gently as though she were fragile glass when she stepped out of her room. She assured them that she didn't need either of them to follow her, she was just going to walk for a bit, and this time, neither of them argued. As she moved away from them she could practically feel their eyes at her back until she rounded a corner. She drifted like a ghost through the empty halls, feet making no noise as she took stairways up or down, walking with no clear direction but needing to keep moving. Her own rooms felt too confining at night and the rest of the castle seemed far too vast during the day. There were people everywhere and she wanted nothing to do with any of them, yet she didn't want to truly be alone, not for long at least. Her own feelings were so confusing to her, she could only imagine how everyone around her must feel.
It was inevitable that she should find herself in the nursery where the three boys slept, relieved to see two young and alert guards stationed outside their room. The two girls sleeping in there awoke as she entered, ready to assist in anything she might need, but Ashlynn bid them go back to sleep. It was a task they rose to easily, turning their back to the room to face the wall on their pallets. She checked on Tiyal first, the bassinet he was using being the closest to the door. Ashlynn reached in as though to pick him up, then froze, the dark thought of never being able to hold her own baby too harsh to let her hold the tiny elven child. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath in, concentrating on the way the air felt as it moved through her lungs. When she felt a bit more herself again, she ran a finger over the sleeping babe's cheek, then moved on.
Lochlainn and Lucien were together in a large crib, a sight which always made her smile. The boys were so enamored with each other when awake, she imagined it was easier to get them to sleep if they could be together. They lay facing one another, a small carved dragon between them. Ashlynn ran a hand over Lochlainn's head, feeling as if he was suddenly too old. The fine golden blonde hair on his head was darker than she remembered, his legs longer. Had he changed so swiftly that she hadn't even noticed? Looking at Lucien, she realized both boys were about the same length. They could be twins at this age, their looks so similar but for the wings on Lucien's back. She was gentle as she touched the white feathers and the silky fledgling down that still clung to the spines of his wings. How her heart ached knowing his father would never see his beautiful little boy.
With a sudden deep breath in, Lucien rolled onto his back and Ashlynn froze, hoping she hadn't woken him. Within seconds, however, his blue eyes fluttered open in a lazy, sleepy manner. As soon as he realized someone was standing there looking down on him, he focused on the face above him and gave a sleepy smile. “Hi.”
Ashlynn couldn't help but return the smile and cup his little round cheek. Her other hand lifted to press a finger to her lips. “Hi,” she whispered back. “It's good to see Cavalon is teaching you how to speak like a proper prince.”
He raised his arms and asked, “Up?”
If his smile was impossible to resist, his quiet request was even harder to decline. She reached in and tucked her hands under his arms, careful as she pulled him free not to knock the dragon her own son clung to so that he may stay asleep. As she lifted Lucien, Lochlainn gave a little whine but made no other motion. Ashlynn set Lucien on her hip and kissed his forehead. He put his head on her shoulder but before her heart could melt, he sat up straight in her arms again and pointed toward Tiyal's crib. “Baby.”
“You want to see the baby?” She took him over to where Tiyal slept and Lucien stared at him for a moment. Finally, he looked at her with question, his little blonde brows drawn together. “Seep?”
“Yes, the baby is sleeping.”
He pointed back to the crib. “Nock.”
“Lochlainn is sleeping, too.” She chuckled, kissing Lucien's head again. She loved that he called her son “Nock” and couldn't wait to hear what Lochlainn would call him. Lucien touched her face, making her smile down at him. “Who am I?”
This question, apparently, was the most amusing thing he had heard all night; he buried his face in her shoulder and giggled, making Ashlynn gasp and ask again, “Who am I?” His reaction was exactly the same, but when his laughter got a little too loud, she shushed him again and tried to keep her own humor in check. “You're such a little tease,” she chided with a smirk. “Giver help us if you turn out to have the looks of your father and the personality of Cavalon. The world won't know what's coming, that's for certain.” Rubbing his back, she took him to the window and pushed the glass open just enough so they could see the outside without letting too much of the cold in. Once more, Lucien put his head on Ashlynn's shoulder. This time he kept it there as they looked up at the stars together.
Every now and then she would catch a moment where the pain was gone and she could feel levity somewhere within her again. Having Lucien giggle in her ear, feeling his fingers play with her hair that reached down her back as he surely must have done with his mother, made her forget for the quickest second that her heart had been so deeply wounded by the loss of her child and of Zarra. When it happened, when she let herself smile or even heard her own laughter, guilt came chasing after like a grist of bees, stinging and unforgiving.
“Time to go back to bed.” He was easy to calm, unlike her own son who, when riled, could be a bit of a terror. Lucien lifted his head and touched her face again, but this time there was no question in his gaze, no giggle ready on his lips. He simply stared into her eyes. Emotion welled up within Ashlynn. She knew it was impossible for a child so young to know how much pain she was in or to see the empathy there in his chubby little face, yet part of her wanted to believe it could be true. Lucien could have inherited Nòe's ability to sense people's em
otions and to calm them. She rested her hand atop Lucien's, pressing it to her cheek with a sad smile. Then she kissed him and brought him back to the crib he shared with Lochlainn.
“Watch over my boy, little angel, the way your papa watched over me. We could all use someone like Nòe in our lives.” She was gentle as she laid him down and swept a hand over his head once more. “Good night, Lucien.” He stared up at her with no expression, then turned onto his side and hid his face from her. Whether he would go back to sleep right away or not would remain to be seen, but it was good that he was quiet. It made Ashlynn feel better about leaving.
Knowing the children were safe and well kept took some of the weight she'd been carrying away. It had been hard to see them at first, was still hard when it came down to it, yet being able to be in the room with them, to interact with one of them without anyone watching or joining, had been a salve to her wounded spirit. Still, there was one more place she knew she had to go to make sure all was well.
There were no guards outside of Rowan's room so she was able to slip in undetected. There was a door, she knew, that connected to Killian's quarters, but it would be closed this time of the night and there should be little to worry about as far as alerting anyone went. Still, she was careful as she entered the little girl's bedchamber and quiet as she closed the door behind her.
Rowan was little more than an island of red amid a sea of blue bed covers, and it made Ashlynn smile. She pushed some of Rowan's hair away in an effort to find the child's face, amused at seeing her mouth wide open as she slept. How she managed to breathe under all that hair was certainly a mystery. Ashlynn pushed more hair away from her face, thinking her a heavy sleeper, but the movement made Rowan's eyes snap open. She recoiled and fled to the far side of the bed in a panic, eyes wide and breath rapid as she clung to her bedpost.
“It's all right,” Ashlynn whispered quickly. “It's me, Rowan. It's Ashlynn.”
“Ashlynn?” Loosening her grip on the carved wood, the girl reached out and Ashlynn took her hand. “What are you doing?”
“I'm sorry to wake you, heartling.” She helped Rowan back across the bed, trying to tame her wild mane. “I peeked in to check on you. I truly didn't mean to frighten you.”
Rowan swept her hair from her face, a frown on her lips. “Are you okay?”
“I'm fine.” Ashlynn smiled sadly, wishing, not for the first time, that Rowan could see her.
“Is Jaryn back yet?”
The question rose a bitter lump in Ashlynn's throat, one she had to concentrate to swallow. “Not yet. Soon, I hope.”
“Oh.” Rowan crawled back under her covers and put her head on her pillow. “Are you feeling any better?”
“Not yet,” repeated Ashlynn, her voice full of emotion, “but also soon...I hope.”
Rowan laced the fingers of both her hands with one of Ashlynn's, pulling it to her chest like a treasured toy. “Do you want to sleep with me tonight?”
For a minute Ashlynn couldn't speak. She so cherished this little girl that it was often hard to remember she was not her own. Moments like this made her remember that her own mother, Siobhán, had known Rowan's mother, Nealie, when Nealie had been this age. She wondered often if the bond between them had been as strong as the bond between she and Rowan. Patting Rowan's head with affection, Ashlynn finally answered, “I'm all right, darling. Thank you for the offer, though. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I'm okay.”
“Good.” Rising, Ashlynn kissed her cheek. “Go back to sleep, then.”
“I'll come see you tomorrow. Maybe I can tell you a new story.”
“I would like that very much. Good night, sweet girl.”
“Good night.”
Leaving Rowan's room, Ashlynn closed the door behind herself and paused to try to decide what to do next. She knew she should return to her room, that surely any moment Lilia or Mairead would wake up and realize she was gone, then cause a panic until she was found. The idea of going back and cloistering herself away in that room again made her heart race and her palms clammy, however. Her throat felt like a fist was tightening around it and her breathing hitched. No, she couldn't go back yet. Instead, she turned for the more central part of the castle, thinking she could find a good enough distraction if she could get to her library and read for a while.
There was no sound for a time as she went, but up ahead she could see a light spilling into the hallways from a door not closed all the way. Someone was in one of the many sitting rooms. Stopping, she listened for voices but heard nothing. Careful to make as little noise as possible, she reached the door and peeked in to see two chairs in front of the fire occupied by familiar faces. Luella was working on a needlepoint and Nuala was watching her, seemingly transfixed.
“I have never had the patience for that,” the winged queen admitted after a moment. “I have little time for it as well, I suppose.”
“You have to make time,” Luella encouraged. “I find this is the only thing to soothe me after a long, stressful day.” They fell silent again and Ashlynn stood in the hall, watching them. It would make sense that the two of them, of anyone else, would be the ones awake at an hour like this. Luella admitted that she had become something of a night owl, and the Volar kept such odd schedules that day and night mattered little to them, only that they could sleep when they felt tired and stayed awake otherwise.
After a time it seemed their conversation was over, so Ashlynn started on her way again. Then she heard Nuala say, “I worry for Ashlynn.” Ashlynn stopped and returned to where she had been standing to listen. “She has been so different since the battle on the Isle of Contest. I admit that I have not known her well in times of rest so to know her true character...” A crease formed between Nuala's brows. “What an awful thing to realize. I first met her when there was a war being planned and a funeral service for her friend. After the war I was so grieved over the loss of Nóe and spent much of my time mourning or with Cavalon that I never came to visit. I suppose those two weeks in Mirasean for your wedding were as normal as it got since Nealie was killed soon after and she was struggling with so much after Lochlainn was born.”
“I think it is the same for me,” Luella lamented, “though you knew her better than I for those two weeks. I was secluded for much of it.” Setting her needlework aside, she tilted her head. “She seemed like the girl I knew briefly around her own wedding when she and Jaryn were just at Caedia – happy, carefree. That is the Ashlynn I think we have rarely seen.”
“And now the loss of her child...” Nuala shook her head, her gaze going to the fire.
Luella gave an awkward shrug. “At least now she can shift. I know it sounds callous, but the baby had not even begun to truly form yet if she was not growing herself.”
“It does not matter.” Nuala's reply was quiet, but Ashlynn heard the impatient undertone in her voice. “Whether a child is born once it is conceived or not, it is still part of the mother's heart. The pain will lessen over time, but she will never forget, neither will she be able to think on that child without a sense of loss.”
Looking keenly at Nuala, Luella's lips curved into a frown. “You speak from experience.”
Nuala nodded slowly. “Unless we mate with another of our kind, it is very difficult for a Phoenix to conceive, let alone carry a baby to full term. Our bodies are consistently at a much higher temperature than that of a normal person and a child that would be less than full Phoenix has a rare chance at life. Nóe and I desperately wanted a child and conceived twice during our short time together, though the first child was lost shortly after I began developing symptoms.”
“Nuala...I am so sorry.” Luella shook her head. “I never knew.”
“That is because it is not something I have shared with anyone other than Cavalon.”
“He is your husband now; he should know. So should Ashlynn.” Pausing, Luella's brow wrinkled. “Forgive me for asking, but if it is so hard for you to have children, how is it possib
le that you had Lucien? I remember what happened the night you lost Nóe. You let yourself turn to fire and ash, only to be reborn in the morning. How could a child survive that?”
“By all rights he should not have. It has happened rarely in the history of my kind, but it has happened.” The sadness in Nuala's eyes was mixed with love when she finally looked away from the fire. “He is my miracle child, my gift from the Giver.”
“That must mean He has great things in store for Lucien.”
Nuala smiled. “Cavalon says the same thing.”
Resuming her work, Luella picked up her embroidery once more. “I do love seeing those two together. You would think they were true father and son. Why, just this morning I saw...”
Ashlynn squeezed her eyes shut, no longer listening to the conversation as it took a turn toward lighter subjects. Nuala knew what she was going through and had to suffer through it herself. Emiline, her own adopted mother, had never been able to have a child herself, though she knew she had conceived more than once. Somehow knowing she was not alone in her pain did not make it better but only made it worse. How many other women had gone through this and borne the agony on their own? How could the Giver, someone who was supposed to be loving and kind and generous, be so cruel as to let life form, then take it away before it even had a chance?
Turning away from the room, Ashlynn walked aimlessly yet again. She replayed the entire interaction between her two friends over in her mind. It wasn't until she found herself in her beloved garden that she caught something Luella had said. “At least now she can shift.” She'd been too focused on the words and the actions around that simple sentence that they'd taken her attention from it. It was true that she should be able to do just that now, no child in her womb to worry about bringing harm to in the transformation, yet she had not even been able to summon fyre since her recovery. What made her think all of the sudden she would regain what had been lost to her since then?