“It's French. 'Elle' with double Ls and Es,” Daxon said. “Mirielle means 'miracle.'”
“Pretty straightforward then.”
“Will you both shut up and let him have this moment with his daughter?” Raza growled.
“Welcome to one of the worlds you will walk, Mirielle,” Sever said, then kissed her forehead. “My second miracle.”
“And yet you've lost faith,” Henry said sadly.
“Henry, I love you,” I said.
“I love you too,” he replied brightly.
Then I added, “But shut up.”
Sever laughed. He laughed and laughed, and the kids joined him until little Mirielle let out a sound that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. We all went quiet to listen to her gurgle and giggle while waving her arms around.
“Is she mimicking you?” I asked as I leaned over. “Or is she really laughing?”
“She's laughing,” Sever said, his tone back into the awestruck zone. “And it's so beautiful.”
And that was how my daughter came into the world—screaming, then laughing, making everyone take notice in both instances. I had a feeling it would always be that way.
Chapter Four
Raenasi did hold Mirielle again, though it wasn't until that night, at the baby's welcome feast. The entire court, much of the kingdom, and even some fairies from the other kingdoms and Earth came to see Miri—as we were calling her—and welcome her to life. The Princes and Princesses of the Undergrounds of Earth were there and even the Sea Dragons sent representatives. I sat on a throne between my father and Sever, my other husbands and children gathered behind us, while Queen Eibhleann sat on Dad's right. A procession of fairies streamed up the dais steps to bow to my father and Eibhleann before bowing to me, Sever, and Killian—and in some cases, their king—before finally, greeting Mirielle. Our guards stood along the wall, three deep, behind us. It was quite the sight. Technically, Tiernan, Raza, and Daxon should have been given thrones. Killian too since he was Prince of Twilight. But they'd waved off my father's offer saying there would be no room left for the guests.
“Aodh!” I exclaimed and nearly stood up to greet my friend.
The pronunciation of his name made it sound as if I were just making an excited sound, but everyone knew Aodh. He'd been playing a big role in fey life ever since I'd rescued his sister Nighean from the Unseelie Court.
“Your Majesty.” Aodh bowed to me and then Tiernan, his king. To his left, his mother and sister did the same. “Congratulations on the birth of your fifth child.”
“Thank you so much for making the trip.” I reached up and pulled him into a one-armed hug, then did the same with Nighean and Neala.
As I sat back, Mirielle giggled and reached for Neala's wings. I didn't blame her. Sylph wings are gorgeous. Like giant dragonfly wings, their membranes are webbed with black lines and shimmer with opalescence, each Sylph shimmering with unique colors. Sort of like Angels and their auras. Nighean's wings were my favorite, a stunning combination of peony pink and pale green.
“They're pretty, aren't they?” I cooed to Miri as I caught her grasping fingers and pulled them back.
“I will take that as the highest compliment, Your Grace,” Neala said to Miri as she stroked her tuft of hair. To me, she said, “Your daughter is lovely, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you.”
“Will she have wings?” Nighean asked hopefully.
“They will emerge later,” Sever, who had been to Seelie many times and knew the Sylph family well, slid into our conversation with ease.
“Well, you never know,” I said to him.
Sever blinked. Recovered. Pulled in his glittering dark wings. “I do know. She is my daughter. She will have wings.”
“Sweetheart,” I drew out the word, “Miri is also my daughter. So she may not have wings.” Yes, I'd gotten over my earlier concern over Mirielle being wingless. It didn't matter if she grew wings or not; she was ours.
“But her Angel side outweighs the mixture you've given her.”
“Mixture?”
Aodh cleared his throat.
