“Hey,” Zahra chides. “Don’t even joke about that. Especially if you’ve got the power to award true names.”
If only I were joking. Why is it this hard to pick a name for myself thatfeelsright? If only I’d been born completely fae like Frelsi. Then my name would have whispered into my heart the moment I opened my eyes, and that would be that. I’d beme. Born whole. Unburdened. Unafraid. Unashamed. Without a single care in the world as I bury my face in a sandwich twice my size, no goals in my head beyond finishing it.
Imagine being born with the knowledge of who and what I am.
Imagine never having been raised and told to be anything for anyone else.
Justimagine.
Willow says, “I’d offer Hilaeira as a great option, considering she’s the wife of Castor in mythology, but the story of Castor and Pollux ishorrible, and after a family feud, Castor dies.” Raising her voice, Willow calls toward the guys, “Aren’t you glad you aren’t feuding anymore?” She throws a piece of popcorn at Castor’s face.
“If you hit my baby with your projectiles…” Zahra warns.
“It’ll be good for him,” Willow notes. “Send them to the war young. Trauma makes children funny.” And then she throws popcorn at Andromeda, who blocks it with her coloring book.
Angling himself to better protect Ash from any stray kernels, Castor chuckles. “Mind yourself, child. I don’t wish for competition where it concerns being the funniest one here.”
“Because it’s not much of a competition?” Alexios murmurs, too cuddly to be evil.
“Don’t fight,” Willow snaps, as though she didn’t start it. “Castor, what wouldyouname Danielle? You know her best. What do you think suits her?”
“I’ve already given her my name, but it’s not about what any one of us would call her. She is searching for her true name, theone that makes sense to her, the one unburdened by the shadows she’s grown in. It’s not up to us to tell her what it is.”
So, basically, it’s very hard and complicated and serious work.
“One’s true name is linked to the very essence of their soul,” Cael offers, princely, a hand positioned at his regal chin. “You may find it whispered in your heart during the silence of meditation.”
I blink at the moth man.
Then I meet Zahra’s eyes.
Then we assume meditating positions, legs crossed, fingers pinched into circles.
Om.
Terra begins to cry.
Her whimpers infect Ash, and Castor protests. “No, no, no. Welikeme now, remember? Pila!” he chastises. “Quiet your urchin. She’s teaching Ash bad things.”
Pila frees an airy laugh, rising with all the grace of a breeze. “She’s just hungry.”
Frelsi lifts what she can of the remainder of her sandwich. “Here! For baby. So she will be quiet and not bother King Castor, the most royal one here and the highest rank, in case anyone didn’t know that.”
Tenderly, Pila smiles. “I appreciate your offering, but she needs her formula.”
Frelsi lets the sandwich fall back into her lap. “I forgot. Your child’s mouth is weak and yet to grow bones.” She sniffs and resumes her efforts of destroying the sandwich alone. “So sad.”
When Ash doesn’t stop fussing, Zahra rises from her meditating position and retrieves him, much to Castor’s distress. When he begins to sulk, both Cael and Pollux chuckle.
“Don’t laugh at me,” Castor mutters.
Alexios smiles, sly. “If you want a babysoobadly…”
Castor kicks him.
“Castor, don’t kick your friends,” Cael bosses.
“Don’t tell me what to do,PrinceCael. Didn’t you just hear? I outrank you.” He kicks again.
