“You must be Shivaria. My name is Awri and this is my brother Riesh.”
Outwardly Awri seems every bit as cheerful and sweet as her brother seems despondent and troubled. Here, among the feyn, I don’t have to remind myself that looks can be deceiving.
“Lovely to meet you both,” I say.
I don’t recognize the names and assume they must have fallen short of Felias’s exacting standards as to who he personally deemed worthy of an introduction.
“La’tarian?” Riesh’s brow dips further when he says it.
I can’t help the pit in my stomach and wonder what small slip in the cadence of my speech gave me away or why it should matter to him. I’m far from the first La’tarian to grace the northern shores in pursuit of alliances.
“Awri! Riesh! I’m so pleased that you could make it this evening,” Felias beams as he ambles up beside me.
The male offers his hand to my uncle who takes it eagerly with a growing smile. They exchange pleasantries and Felias makes his excuses to the young female he brought in tow, sending her away with a quick apology.
“Remind me,” Riesh says to my uncle, “who was your brother’s wife?”
“She was called Thaliana.”
Felias had indeed lost his sister-in-law during childbirth, and I know that there is no pretense in the sad smile that slips onto his face when her name passes his lips. It was the rarest of couplings when his very human brother took one of them for his bride. Though I can’t stop the twinge of pain in my heart over Felias’s loss, I will never understand why any mortal would willingly bind themselves to a feyn.
“That’s right,” the male says. And I’m not sure his brow can furrow any deeper, and then it does when he asks, “Ungifted?”
“She was, yes,” Felias says with a series of short nods.
I debate making my exit when the siblings exchange a troubled look, and it becomes clear that there is something outside of my understanding taking place. My mind rushes to piece together every facet of my brief interaction with them, struggling to make sense of it. I’ve never been strong in the delicate art of social grace, much less the tactical scheming and manipulation that comes with those who are proficient.
Awri leaves her brother to come along side me, hooking her elbow with mine. “Will you show me the grounds, Shivaria?”
Felias nods his approval before I answer, “Of course.”
I force a smile and let her lead me into the quiet seclusion of the outdoors. It’s a calm night with a full moon that blankets the earth in a pale, shimmering light. Star flowers litter the grounds, their pearlescent white petals unfurled. They reach toward the sky, refracting the moonlight, glowing like a multitude of stars fallen to settle upon the surface of Terr.
“Are you enjoying A’kori?” she asks absently as she turns us down a narrow path, rounding a bushy maple.
“I really haven’t had much time to explore, but what I have seen is exceptionally grand.”
She glances at me with a sly smile and sweet chuckle.
“You certainly haven’t seen enough of the capital ifgrandis the only word you use to describe it. I insist you let me enhance your view of the city. I’ll have a carriage sent in the morning if you like?”
I nearly lose my footing on the perfectly flat, well-groomed path beneath my feet when she asks, and she suppresses a small laugh. I only hesitate for a moment. Despite my uncomfortable introduction to the siblings, Felias seemed pleased enough by their presence. And I don’t want to risk giving up an opportunity that might prove beneficial.
I plaster a grateful smile onto my face as I regain my stride. “Thank you. That would be—”
“Awri!” The general’s voice booms into the night and I suppress a cringe when I glance up and find him on the path before us. “Thank the stars. What did I say about running off when I… What are you doing withher?” he barks, pointing a long finger at me. Leveling me with a menacing glare, he tromps toward us.
I am at least happy to see his demeanor hasn’t changed around someone he’s obviously familiar with. I’m beginning to think there is a good chance the male is simply grumpy all the time.
“You’ve met?” Awri’s brows creep up her forehead before drawing down in confusion as she notes his determined stride and the crease in his brow.
Or maybe it is just me.
“Oh, yes. Xeyvian and I are old friends,” I say sweetly, with an obnoxiously innocent smile.
“Xeyvian?” Her eyebrows rise once more, thrown by my lack of formality when I exclude the general’s title.
He inserts himself between us, parting Awri’s arm from my own as he does. Crossing his arms dramatically, he glares down at the top of my head.
