Chapter 8 – A Gift That Sighs Back

On her bed, between the spider-silk sheets, lay a breathtakingly beautiful male Shaeravyn. He was naked, with shimmering purple skin, well-proportioned muscles and long silver hair. Next to him was an equally naked woman and the messages braided in her lavender hair made Shaelith blush.

Both of them looked up expectantly.

“Luminous Shaelith,” the man purred, rose up on one elbow and let his muscles flex in the soft glow of the mushrooms. “Happy Birthday! We are your present.”

Despite the moss wine, Shaelith’s mind wasn’t so impaired that she couldn’t put the pieces of the puzzle together. The sudden delivery receipt task that kept Vyriz busy all night, Belyssere’s strange behavior and all the preparations that had made everyone so nervous. They had been preparing for tonight, not for tomorrow.

Mother, you cunning, manipulative genius.

“The matriarch said you might hesitate,” the woman added softly. “We are to tell you that we will go if you wish. Both of us, or even just one of us, however you prefer. She doesn’t want to pressure you, we’re just a present.”

Shaelith leaned against the doorframe and just laughed. And it wasn’t the polite melodic laughter she had trained herself to do in public, but genuine, slightly drunken giggles that burst out of her uncontrollably.

“Do you know what the crazy thing is?” She shook her head. “Any other night, I mean, literally any other night, I would have politely asked you to leave.”

The two exchanged a brief, expectant glance at those words. The sweet, subtle scent of Umilari wing dust hung in the air.

“But tonight?” Shaelith stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. “Tonight I kind of had an emotional breakthrough of some sorts. And I drank almost a whole carafe of moss wine.”

“Sooo…” She pulled at one of the laces of her caterpillar-gauze nightgown, undoing it. “Why not?”

The woman slid elegantly off the bed and came towards her. She was a little smaller than Shaelith, curvier, invitingly curvy really and up close she smelled simply beguiling.

I have to ask her where she got that perfume.

“May I?” The woman’s fingers hovered over Shaelith’s lacing, waiting for her answer.

Am I really ready for this?

The surpsiring answer was yes. Yes, at last.

“Go ahead,” Shaelith heard herself say, and her voice sounded just a little bit shaky. The curvy woman untied all of the strings, the fabric slid to the floor and Shaelith stood naked before her.

“Beautiful,” murmured the man from the bed, and it sounded sincere. He seemed completely blown away.

Okay. So that’s it. My big deflowering. With two strangers my mother hired. Nobody can claim that this is human-hearted.

But as the woman gently led her to the bed, as warm hands stroked her skin, as lips found her neck, her ironic bravado disappeared. All that remained was sensation, curiosity, and an excitement that had nothing to do with the wing dust and the moss wine.

Oh. The man kissed her gently, questioningly, waiting for her to respond to it. That’s… that’s pretty nice, actually.

Her nervousness quickly melted away under their skillful touches. They knew exactly what they were doing and gently guided her into something that seemed completely strange and strangely right at the same time to Shaelith.

Then, in the middle of a particularly intense kiss, Shaelith suddenly tore herself away. Oh damn.

“Wait!” She sat up, eliciting a disappointed groan from both sides. “I don’t have a contraception glyph!”

The woman smiled reassuringly. “No problem, luminous Shaelith.” She slid elegantly off the bed and walked over to Shaelith’s obsidian dressing table, where Shaelith kept hrt mycelial ink and the brushes neatly lined up. “Do you mind if I do it for you?”

Shaelith shook her head, still slightly panicked that she had almost forgotten. At least I realized it before… well.

The woman knelt down next to her and dipped the finest brush into the shimmering ink. “Lie back and relax.”

The first stroke of the brush on her skin tickled her a little, just below her navel. But the way the woman did it, with her free hand gently stroking Shaelith’s breast, while she leaned forward and accompanied each stroke with a kiss.

Okay, this is definitely not how Mistress Velathynre taught us to do it.

The man watched them fascinated, while gently stroking Shaelith’s thighs and kissing her softly behind the ear. The combination of the tingling ink, warm lips and wandering hands made her shiver.

“Almost done,” the woman murmured against her skin. The glyph took shape and then she sensed that it was finished as it connected to the mana flow. Shaelith activated it with a thought.

“By the way,” the man purred and pulled her to him again. “Even though you don’t really seem interested in this right now, but I’m Thyliz.” He grinned. “And she’s Mirvenith.”

Shaelith blushed.

I’m about to sleep with two people I haven’t even asked their names yet. Mother would be so proud.

“I… uh… sorry.” She laughed sheepishly. “I’m Shaelith.”

All three of them burst out laughing and then the tension dissolved into something warmer. Thyliz’s lips found her neck again, Mirvenith slowly kissed her way up her freshly painted skin, and Shaelith let herself fall.

All right, let’s do this properly.

Shaelith’s heart was beating so hard she feared it might leap through her chest as Mirvenith’s tongue drew circles around her navel.

“You tremble so beautifully,” Thyliz murmured against the tip of her ear, tickling it, while his hand already slipping under her knee to gently spread her legs.

Mirvenith’s warm, moist breath found its way further down and then she opened Shaelith’s thighs wider with gentle, confident authority.

“Smells tastier than sweet dew,” Mirvenith whispered against the inside of her thigh before the first wet touch made Shaelith gasp.

Her tongue didn’t go straight to the target, but instead slowly traced the entire course of her flower. Shaelith’s hips jerked up, but two hands, one of each of them, pressed her gently back into the mattress.

Oh God, they know exactly what they’re doing.

Meanwhile Thyliz leisurely stroked her nipple, which was already hardening under his thumb. He rolled it tenderly between his velvet-soft fingertips and Shaelith let out a throaty sound she had never heard herself make before.

Mirvenith deepened her attentions and made her tongue flat and wide as she greedily tasted Shaelith’s bud. Her gleeful slurping mingled with Shaelith’s muffled moans as Thyliz watched with satisfaction the rapture on Shaelith’s face.

Suddenly, something slipped between her folds and then Mirvenith pushed in two of her fingers, gently, but relentlessly and Shaelith’s mouth opened in a silent “O”.

Mirvenith moved her fingers in circular motions over a wonderful spot inside Shaelith while Thyliz kissed Shaelith’s nipple while his free hand caressed her bud now in a way that made her muscles tighten involuntarily around Mirvenith’s fingers.

Shaelith clawed her hands into Thyliz’s hair, while his tongue tickled her nipple and his thumb massaged her bud and it was all too much and not enough, so overwhelming and yet-

“Now,” Thyliz whispered, and Shaelith only realized what he meant when Mirvenith pulled her fingers back and there was a sudden emptiness inside her, a disappointing lack of… but then Thyliz kneed between her thighs.

His hand gripped his manhood, slender but handsome, dark purple, with a slight upward curve and her eyes widened. Thyliz rubbed the tip slowly against her opening, while Mirvenith leaned over Shaelith and moved in for a passionate kiss.

The first feeling of pressure was a flash of white. His… thing was so warm! Shaelith’s nails dug into Thyliz’s shoulders, and her nervousness spiked.

Why the hell did I think this was a good idea?

But then, as the first inch slid in and a feeling of fullness banished the disappointing emptiness that the retreat of Mirvenith’s fingers had left between her legs, all thoughts went silent.

Thyliz continued to push his manhood slowly inside and when he was finally fully inside her, he remained motionless with his pubic bone pressed against her bud. His testicles tickled her perineum and Shaelith was gripped by an archaic feeling of fulfillment.

He is ALL the way in. Inside ME.

“Don’t forget to breathe,” Mirvenith reminded her with a smile. Shaelith obeyed with a gasp and something inside her relaxed. Thyliz seized the moment and moved, just a tiny retreat followed by a gentle thrust and the friction lit a fire inside her that soon spread into every corner of her body.

Mirvenith’s fingers found her bud again and she caressed Shaelith in sync with Thyliz’s thrusts.

Her thoughts disintegrated into mosaic impressions of the musky smell of their sweaty bodies, the slapping sound of their colliding hips and the peppery taste of Thyliz’s mouth as he kissed her.

His rhythm quickened and each time he withdrew, the cool air brushed against her moist opening and then each time he penetrated her again, there was the gentle pressure of the stretch. Until suddenly, with a particularly deep thrust, he hit a spot inside her that made her cry out. Thyliz grinned. “Ah, there it is.”

More, more, more.

She raised her pelvis instinctively towards him, begging him with her body to go deeper and Thyliz complied all too willingly, until his moans became rougher, his movements more uncontrolled and jerkier. Something was building inside her and it was not one of those somehow much shallower orgasms she was used to when she pleasured herself, but something broader, more powerful, expanding from the inside out.

He came suddenly, buried deep inside her in a surprisingly hot pulsing surge that brought herself over the edge and for a few heartbeats she completely lost herself in this ensemble of intense sensations that almost seemed to tear her apart.

Mirvenith kissed her through the orgasm as Thyliz slowly withdrew, leaving her with shaking legs and a delightfully throbbing lap.

“This is just the beginning,” Mirvenith smiled as Shaelith was heavily breathing and struggling to find words. And Thyliz’s mischievous grin confirmed that the night had only just begun.

~

The next morning, she woke up late and alone. She stretched with relish and her muscles pleasantly ached, among them some she didn’t even know she had.

Two flowers were on the pillow next to her, a white and a purple orchid.

At least they haven’t just run off completely without leaving a trace.

She searched her feelings. She felt relieved and satisfied in a way she hadn’t expected. A tiny bit of embarrassment still clung somewhere in her chest, but even that was already dissipating like mist in the morning.

Why did I make such a drama out of it?

But she knew the answer. Even leaving out the whole gender thing, before arriving in this world she’d spent a lot of time in a world where sex was complicated, laden with meaning and had lots of consequences. It had taken time to let go of that.

And it was right to take this time. She rolled onto her back and the spider-silk sheets nestled comfortably against her bare skin. Even if Mother has almost lost it.

A knock at the door.

“Come in!” Shaelith called out, without even thinking about covering herself. She just lay there, naked and shameless on the rumpled bed, just like a real Shaeravyn.

Belyssere cautiously stuck her head in. Her eyes widened briefly at the sight of the battlefield of sheets and pillows, then a broad smile flitted across her round face.

“Good morning, my dear.” She balanced a tray in. “I’ve brought you breakfast.”

“Mmmh.” Shaelith sat up and took the tray, vreathing in the smell of the delicious mushroom pies.

Belyssere could hardly contain her curiosity. “And…? How was it?” Her voice vibrated with hopeful excitement.

Shaelith took a bite, chewed with relish and just grinned from ear to ear.

Belyssere’s sigh of relief sounded like a large, lodged rock finally giving way. She slumped heavily onto the edge of the bed. “A load off my mind! I was afraid-” She broke off, blushing. “Please forgive me for all that secretiveness yesterday, Shaelith. I was just following orders, but-“

“It’s okay.” Shaelith waved it off. “I know Mother. When she sets her mind to something, we all dance to her tune.”

“She’s just worried about you.” Belyssere smoothed the rumpled sheets, but that was a hopeless endeavor. “In her own way.”

“I know.” Shaelith bit into the next pie. “And it worked, didn’t it?”

Belyssere patted her hand. “I’ll let you eat in peace. Just call us if you need anything.”

As the door closed behind her, Shaelith stretched out again and the slight soreness between her legs pleasantly reminded her of last night.

Too bad they’re already gone. A round two, or rather, one more round after the three rounds last night, would have been nice.

Then the realization slowly dawned on her. She could have as much sex as she wanted now. No one would judge her, on the contrary, everyone would breathe a sigh of relief. It was no longer a big deal.

The possibilities!

A mischievous smile spread across her face and she rang for a servant.

“Luminous Shaelith?” The girl bowed deeply.

“Get Vyriz. Tell him I immediately need his support. No delay possible.”

The servant blinked at the unusual urgency but bowed again. “As you wish.”

When she disappeared, Shaelith chuckled away.

His eyes will pop out.

Less than five minutes later, Vyriz stormed into her room with his hair wildly disheveled and all the ink still on his fingers. His eyes looked tired, since he’d obviously been cataloging deliveries receipts for the whole night, but the worry in them was unmistakable.

“Shaelith? What’s the matter? The servant said it was urgent-” He broke off as his gaze caught her lounging naked on the rumpled bed, with a pasty in her hand. A bemused but definitely not displeased smile flitted across his face. “Uh…”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Shaelith set the tray aside. “Except I haven’t been a virgin since last night.”

Vyriz’s eyebrows shot up. “What, really?”

“Really.” She stretched again and casually let her legs fall apart. “And now come here. I want more, but preferably with someone I don’t have to ask their name first.”

The pure joy that flitted across his face was almost comical. He took a step forward but then paused. “Are you… are you sure?”

It’s so sweet of him to ask.

“Vyriz.” Her voice took on a mock annoyed tone, but her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Get your butt in my bed. Now.”

He didn’t need to be told a third time. He was with her a beat of the heart later, and then his lips were on hers and everything was warm and familiar, and yet excitingly new. As she sat astride him, Shaelith marveled at how natural it felt after all these years of close friendship. There was no awkwardness, just a new level of something that had always existed between them.

On earth, something like this could ruin a friendship, but here, among the Shaeravyn, she was absolutely certain that it wouldn’t change anything. Except perhaps for the better.

All his exhaustion seemed to fall away from him as Shaelith leaned over him and put her hands on his chest. His heartbeat quickened under her fingers, and his skin was warm, hot even, under the thin fabric of his crumpled chemise.

She slowly opened the cords.

I was still nervous last night. But now I know what I want.

“You look tired,” she murmured against his neck, brushing the sensitive spot just below his ear where he was so ticklish. He shuddered and gripped her hips tighter.

“It’s been a long night,” he replied hoarsely. “But for some reason I feel very awake suddenly.”

Shaelith smiled against his skin, as his desire was quite noticeably pressing against her.

She let her fingers slide over his chest and explored the firm muscles beneath the purple skin. Vyriz was built broader than most of their kind, with strong shoulders, but lean from his years of fencing training. The matriarchs might consider him “too rough” for their aesthetic standards, but Shaelith found his strength and robustness quite reassuring.

Mother will be so unbearably self-satisfied that I take the next one into my bed straight away.

But she didn’t care. It had been wonderful with Thyliz and Mirvenith and they were certainly skillful, almost artful even in their seduction and yes, it had been satisfying. But with Vyriz there was a completely different emotional grounding. She wanted that intimacy.

She pressed her lips to his for a passionate kiss, he moaned into her mouth and their tongues found each other. He must have drunken spicy mushroom tea to stay awake last night.

“Shaelith,” he gasped as she broke away from him to catch her breath. “Are you really sure? I’d rather do without than-“

She silenced him by rolling her hips against him, rubbing against the hardness poking through the fabric of his pants. “I’m very sure of it. Unless you’re too tired?”

The way he suddenly grabbed her and whirled her around so that she lay beneath him answered this question without even the trace of a doubt. She laughed breathlessly as her long lavender hair fanned pit across the pillows.

“You underestimate my stamina,” he growled playfully before he lowered his head took one of her nipples into his mouth.

Shaelith bent towards him and a dazed moan escaped her lips. Oh, fuck.

The way he had handled her, first sucked gently then teased with his teeth, the sudden bold tenderness of it all, almost overwhelmed her with giddiness.

Soon he plunged even deeper and Shaelith let out a short, laughing cry as his tongue dipped greedily between her folds.

Her fingers found his hair, tugging at the messy lavender strands. She loved how wild it looked, how it stuck out in all directions. So much more appealing than the perfectly braided hairstyles of the eligible breeding males.

“You taste-” he lifted his head from between her legs, “-interesting. Like Umilari wing dust and…” A slow, knowing smile spread across his face. “I guess you really did have a wild night.”

Shaelith blushed, but she wasn’t ashamed. Not anymore. “Jealousy is human-hearted, Vyriz.”

“Is no jealousy,” he assured her and kissed her bud with relish. “I’m just teasing. And it makes me want to show you that I can keep up.”

“Go on then.” She willingly spread her legs a little wider for him and his fingers joined his tongue. She still felt a little sore from the previous night and the thought that he could taste it, would have perhaps embarrassed her, not so long ago, but now it seemed to be strangely exciting to her.

“Vyriz,” she gasped as she moved her hips against his face. “I need…”

He understood and with one fluid motion he was over her, dropped his pants as quickly as if he knew a glyph to make them vanish and then she could feel his length against her entrance, hot and hard and ready.

“Look at me, please,” he asked almost a little abashed now, and as she looked up at him, it was impossible for her not to smile.

The way he looked at her was breathtaking. There was so much in his eyes. Desire, yes, but also gratitude.

Oh God, I hope he doesn’t fall in love with me.

But love was not something the Shaeravyn normally associated with sex and partnership, that was a residual human thought, a concept left over from her time as Jacob.

No, don’t think about that right now. Not now.

As he slid into her slowly and maybe even a bit overly careful considering her obvious readiness, whispering her name as if it was something sacred, she couldn’t help herself but moan in delight. It was so different from last night’s experience.

She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him deeper, overwhelmed by the feeling of having her best friend inside of her. Although the physical impressions were already enough to make her lose her mind, that wasn’t alone what made this experience so special, no, she marveled in the familiarity, the way their bodies knew each other so well and remembered each other, got to know each other in a completely new context.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wished for this,” he confessed between kisses against her neck, while he found a steady rhythm with his thrusts. “I thought about you the first time I jer-“

“Shh,” she interrupted him and had to pull herself together so that his confession didn’t make her laugh. “Don’t talk, please, make me feel it instead.”

And oh, he made her feel it. Vyriz changed the angle around until he hit exactly the right spot and Shaelith moaned loudly.

“There?” he asked with a smug grin, and she could only nod, too overwhelmed and breathless for words.

He held the angle and increased the pace. One of his hands found its way between their bodies and the double stimulation was almost too much.

I won’t last long, but… luckily I don’t have to. Oh god.

Her whole body tensed, ready for the fall.

“Let go,” Vyriz whispered in her ear. “I’ve got you.”

And she did let go. Her orgasm swept her away and she threw her head back and screamed it all out, body shaking, muscles tightly clenched around him.

Vyriz followed shortly after and muffled his own moans against her neck. For a moment, they just lay there in a tangle of sweaty limbs and uneven breaths. Shaelith felt weightless, as if she were floating and had no words.

Vyriz rolled off her but immediately pulled her back into his arms and held her tightly. She snuggled against his chest and listened to his calming heartbeat.

“You should sleep,” she finally said. “You really look exhausted.”

“Mmm,” he agreed, already half drifting off. “But you’re staying?”

“I’ll stay,” she promised, “I just have to get ready for my birthday banquet this afternoon.”

While his breathing deepened and he quickly fell asleep, Shaelith lay next to him, all happy and content.

The crumbs from the mushroom pie pressed into her back, and she smiled.

~

It was a lavish party. For all its shortcomings, the elite of Myzelemaerlazin knew how to combine politics and pleasure.

Shaelith allowed herself a few moments of peace from the hustle and bustle, leaned back in her armchair and watched the spectacle with pleasant satisfaction.

Vyriz had been as radiant as a particularly well-fed glow mushroom all day. He stood by the moss wine fountains, flanked by Phyralith and her friend Zyllisre and was obviously telling one of his exaggerated stories by the looks of it. Phyralith giggled and put a hand on his arm while Zyllisre played with the ends of his hair as he talked.

Looks like he has plans for tonight. Shaelith smiled, sipped her moss wine and savored the warmth of the spicy alcohol.

“Shaelith!” A familiar voice made her look up. Matriarch Yhezevere Delzyndra came over to her and Shaelith rose from the armchair. “My best wishes on your birthday.” Her gaze traveled meaningfully to Shaelith’s braids, where the Virgin message was missing now. “And congratulations on your deflowering. A pleasant night, I hope?”

Completely normal Shaeravyn water cooler talk.

“Thank you, Matriarch, I was very pleased.” Shaelith bowed appropriately deep.

“Your mother must be relieved.” Delzyndra’s tone was neutral, but her eyes twinkled with sympathic amusement. “Laenre has always hated it when something or someone was only almost perfect.”

And with that Delzyndra withdrew again.

She’s right, I guess. The only reason Mother is not completely obnoxious is the outrageous fact that she actually lives up to her own exaggerated standards. She just can’t understand why anyone else doesn’t.

Laenre was enthroned at the other end of the hall and her hair carried a particularly triumphant message today. House Vyrnara thrives in all matters. Whenever her eyes fell on Shaelith, there was genuine warmth in her eyes.

As if reading her mind, Laenre caught her gaze and raised her crystal goblet in a subtle toast. Shaelith returned the gesture.

“SHAELITH! SHAELITH!”

Glyssere ran through the crowd with a steadily glowing hand. “Look! It’s still working!”

“That’s wonderful!” Shaelith knelt down to her. “I see you’ve been practicing really hard.”

“I’ve already shown everyone!” Glyssere beamed. “Even the funny human!”

Funny human?

Before Shaelith could ask about him, Glyssere had already scurried off again. But the answer came of its own accord. A crowd had formed near the entrances, accompanied by suppressed giggles.

The daughter of the matriarch of House Yndrala, Syrinthere, stood there with her latest toy, a scrawny middle-aged human. Middle-aged for humans that is. He wore coarse robes, his feet were bare and his skin was as pale as cave mushrooms, the hair was thin and unkempt. He looked as if he hadn’t eaten properly for weeks.

He looks so weird. It’s hard to imagine I’ve had this same unhealthy skin tone in my previous life.  

“This is Penitent Gatthieu,” Syrinthere announced with barely concealed amusement. “He’s a follower of the Way of the Empty Cup. I’ve only had him for a short time now. He has agreed to teach us about… what was it again? Oh yes, ‘the purity of abstinence’.”

The giggling got louder. The human blushed but tried to remain dignified.

“Aye… uh… sankfull forr hosspittallity,” he stammered in broken Shaeravyn with a heavy accent. Humans had considerable trouble with the melodic singsong of Shaeravyn. “Aye… chair vizdomme off… uh… karnel eppstinance? To… to… peeple of Mazlomimarmalin.”

Oh, that’s priceless.

Shaelith approached the group. The poor man looked like a lamb among a pack of very amused wolves.

“Penitent Gatthieu,” she said in fluent Tulvian. “Welcome to Myzelemaerlazin.”

The man froze and his eyes widened in disbelief. “You… you speak Tulvian? Without an accent?”

“Indeed, with barely an accent, I hope.” Shaelith smiled. “I had an excellent teacher who lived in the Triarchy for eighty years.”

“That’s… I’m speechless.” He bowed delightedly. “Since I’ve been here, I haven’t met anyone who spoke Tulvian.”

“Many Shaeravyn see no reason to learn Tulvian, and the others have little desire to speak it,” Shaelith explained. “It is a joyless language without melody. But I find languages fascinating. Tell me, what do you think of our city?”

Gatthieu’s face went through several emotions. “It’s overwhelming. There is much beauty here and the magic and architecture is awe-inspiring, but …” He lowered his voice. “The customs here are very… peculiar.”

To put it diplomatically.

“You mean our intimate openness?” Shaelith kept her tone neutral.

“Depravity.” He shook his head. “It’s depravity. Forgive me, I don’t mean to offend, but this constant addiction to pleasure is against everything the Empty Cup teaches.”

“And yet you are here.”

“To teach! To show that there is another way.” His conviction shone in his eyes. “That true enlightenment comes through renunciation of worldly temptations, not their excessive indulgence.”

Good luck with that, buddy.

Syrinthere had overheard and grinned suggestively but spoke in Shaeravyn when she answered. “Penitent Gatthieu has promised to demonstrate to us how ‘fulfilling’ abstinence can be. I’ve offered him a place in my household. Right next to my bedroom.”

The human became even paler.

Shaelith felt almost sorry for him. Almost. Self-righteous prig.

“I wish you success on your mission,” she lied without batting an eyelid. “Perhaps it’s Syrinthere who will succeed in converting you instead, who knows?”

“My faith is strong,” Gatthieu insisted, although his voice trembled a bit.

We’ll see about that. Shaelith turned away from the bore. Behind her, she could hear Syrinthere introducing her pet human to the next round of onlookers: “This is Penitent Gatthieu, a follower of the Way of the Empty Cup…”

There were many more pleasantly trivial conversations that evening and lots of moss wine and the occasional political background talk. Shaelith felt delightfully languid and content. Her eyes found Vyriz, who obviously reached a stage with Phyralith and Zyllisre now, where it would soon be more polite to leave the party and find a playroom.

Maybe I should intercept him first, before he gets too busy… surely no one could blame me for being a bit selfish today? Hm… or maybe I could join them, I wouldn’t-

The doors flew open and heads turned towards the entrance.

A messenger stumbled in. Her traveling robes were torn and her boots very muddy with mud from outside the grotto. There was no mud in Myzelemaerlazin.

But it was her hair that caught Shaelith’s and everyone else’s attention. Large, hastily braided emergency braids. Messenger. Urgent. Death behind me.

The relaxed hum of the conversation fell silent. Laenre was already rising, gliding through the frozen crowd. The messenger dropped to one knee in front of her and it was more exhaustion than reverence.

Laenre helped her up and supported her. The two of them had a whispered conversation, too quiet for most people. But Shaelith had learned to read lips from her mother long ago.

She could only make out some fragments. “…three settlements burned down…” “…coordinated attacks…” “…Sylvyn refugees report of…” “…unspeakable cruelty…”

Laenre’s eyes found Shaelith across the crowd and just for a second, something like regret flickered in them.

The atmosphere in the room changed as Shaelith approached them.

“Mother?”

Laenre put a hand on her shoulder and her voice was gentle. “Enjoy the rest of the evening, Shaelith. Tomorrow we will discuss everything and what it means for your future duties to House Vyrnara.”

Now, up close, Shaelith could read the full message the woman had braided in her disheveled hair, just in case she didn’t make it to Myzelemaerlazin alive and her body was found by Shaeravyn. Border burns. Goblins feast on Shaeravyn flesh. Matriarchs must know.

“Let’s talk tomorrow, Shaelith.” Laenre’s grip tightened. “Tonight is still yours.”

But as her Mother turned away and searched for Matriach Delzyndra to summon the Council, Shaelith knew with crystal certainty, that all her childhoods were over.