Tag: found family

Let it be known to everyone that I prefer females and I do not intend to be discreet about it. Also I am yet to meet the one.

— Princess Uliya Van Larsson of House Valhades, Personal Accounts of the Valhades Heirs, The Great Hall Of Learning

The morning light had not yet appeared, but the world already felt heavy for Uliya. It was only the second day back in Fyrgen and she felt so disconnected from everything and everyone. The enormous palace seemed more like a cage than her tiny cabin in the human lands ever had. She felt disoriented. Fyrgen seemed to be reminding her of everything she had either outgrown or left behind. Even her magic did not feel the same back here. She wanted to ask Luminara to train her but at the same time wanted to put it off for as long as possible.

She had not slept at all. Slowly she sat up in her large bed and looked to her right, finding Yer fast asleep in the small built-in bed attached to the wall — the Council had them installed in every room for the bird companions. It was a replica of a nest but made entirely of hardened glossy oakwood, with material magic that rendered the inside soft and cosy. Companions followed the same sleeping schedule as their royals, so Yer would not be up for another four hours.

She sighed. If only she could slip into her mother’s bed the way she used to as a child. Her father always complained about it. She never understood why back then — wondered how her small frame could possibly make any difference in their large bed. She knew better now. But Lena had always welcomed her with immense warmth in those memories, even when she mildly disrupted her sleeping schedule. Uliya had never forgotten that. Not for a single day. Her mother was the only one who understood her completely, who could look at her face once and know exactly what she was thinking. That had not changed, she had seen it yesterday. But her mother felt oddly distant all the same, and she could not place why. Lena would never pull away from Uliya intentionally. Which meant something was on her mind. She needed to find out what.

The thoughts were exhausting and the sleep-deprived princess could bear no more of them. So she decided to settle for the next most available mildly loving person in the palace.

She used the shared staircase connecting their balconies and was already standing in the middle of Zir’s room before she fully registered it. Of course the smug idiot left the latch undone, convinced he was the most dangerous thing in any given vicinity. She scoffed and crossed to his bedside to find him in deep sleep, drooling into the pillow. It was actually nice to see his face relaxed for once. Not for long though. She shook him lightly and Zir shot up immediately.

“What? Who died?” Confusion and displeasure lit his face.

“No one. I came to ask if I can sleep in your bed.”

He stared at the window once. Then squinted back at her, voice hoarse and annoyed.

“Over my dead body. Why are you even here?”

She shrugged. “I feel horrible alone in my room and I cannot sleep beside Mother. So scoot.”

He rolled his eyes and relented with a scoff. “I am not scooting. Go to that side. And stay there. If I find you moving even an inch toward me you will be the answer to the who died question.”

She grinned sarcastically, then went and lay on the far side. And immediately felt better. Because even if she would never admit it, her older brother’s presence alone soothes her in ways she cannot fully explain. Never mind the constant arrogance and the absence of visible affection.

Zir glanced back once to find her lightly snoring under the blanket, then turned back onto his side, his face settling into something relieved. Glad, quietly, that she would finally get some sleep.

And just like that, the newly reappointed heirs finally rested without worry. Because they knew that as long as they had each other, they would find a way through.

To the sweetest dame in all of Citrindally,

I have made the arrangements needed for your stay. I will be waiting near our usual spot by sunrise tomorrow. Refraining from writing the whole sequence of events I have planned for the two days. Do not bother with anything else, just pack your phoenix and come along.

With love, C

Zir could feel one of those terrible headaches rising again. Who writes like that anymore? He wondered how his sister could have such abysmal taste when it came to picking a lover. 

“Cecil.” He called out.

Zir had been sorting through his morning correspondence when he came across the letter — Cecil had clearly fetched it from Kushiana’s pile by accident. He would have left it unopened but the outer envelope had been slightly torn, causing him to mistake the K for a Z.

His companion flew in at once. “Yes?”

He held the letter out. “You accidentally brought me something from Kushiana’s pile. It is a K, not a Z.”

Cecil examined the outer envelope briefly. “My mistake. I will take it back to Agnes.”

“Wait. Were you aware of her seeing someone?” Zir said, rubbing his forehead.

“No. Does she even have the time? She is always occupied with something.”

“Well in the letter—”

“Demiurge help you, Zir. You lack so much romance in your own life that you have started invading your sister’s privacy and living vicariously through hers. These are the signs of a cynic retreating entirely from any prospect of happiness. Why don’t you go to the local tavern and buy someone a drink?” Cecil continued at length, until Zir turned slowly to face him with the most murderous expression ever directed at a living creature.

That is when the blue raven noticed the steaming cup of tea on the prince’s desk.

“I apologise, your highness. Let me not delay you any further with my unsolicited wisdom. I will see myself out.” The words came out in a near whisper of politeness before he vacated the chamber at considerable speed.

Zir sorted through the remaining letters in silence. Eventually he found one from Slyveline. He had already written back to inform her when the medicine would be ready. In this one she did not push further about why he had not asked Lena to permit the Havburths back into Citrindally for the treatment. She simply noted the meeting point. He knew his parents well enough to understand what this would cost him if they found out — not only the letter itself, but the fact that he had continued corresponding with Slyveline after the Council ordered the family’s exile years ago. Even the mention of their name was now forbidden in Fyrgen. Lena would be furious. Kiev would call him unfit to lead and spend the next week pitying him. And in his heart, Zir had his own flicker of doubt about Slyveline — had carried it quietly since she broke him. Sometimes he even despised himself for still giving her access to him after everything she had put him through. But matters of the heart are a wretched thing. They can seldom be buried against their will.

He sighed and sipped his herbal tea in an attempt to ease the tension still building at his temple. Only two days back in Citrindally and he already had more places to be than hours to fill them. Today alone: physical training with Ilias, a Council meeting around noon, a bookshop opening in the city square he had to inaugurate, self-practice for the still unpredictable supernova abilities, then visits to several households in the southern Quaser to check on their needs. He had taken these up instinctively from Kushiana, who had managed them single-handedly while he and Uliya were away. He would have asked Uliya to take a single lane from his share, but he did not want to burden her so soon after coming back. She was his younger sister.

The only part of the day he was genuinely looking forward to was dinner. It was with Luminara.

Once the correspondence was sorted, the prince realised the throbbing at his temple had gone. He felt considerably lighter. He got up from his desk and walked through to his bedchamber to find Uliya still deep in sleep, the weighted blanket half fallen off the bed.

He gently pushed her toward the centre and covered her fully before leaving for training.

By the time Uliya woke to Yer’s cooing the room was already empty. She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. “Where is Zir?” she asked, half aware of the time.

“He got up and left at his usual morning hour. It is almost noon now. And your mother had to cancel your supper plans with her — the Whiteglens are visiting this afternoon.” Yer added. The Whiteglens are one of the noble families.

“The Whiteglens? Why all of a sudden?” She asked, dragging herself out of bed and pulling on her fur slippers.

“Their youngest son appears to be missing. He has been gone for two nights. At first they assumed he was sleeping off a night out at some pal’s place, given his reputation. But all of them claim they never saw him.” Yer continued, now perched on Uliya’s shoulder as the princess made her way back down the shared staircase to her own room.

“Oh, that sounds horrible. Hopefully he will make an appearance soon.” Uliya added with dull sympathy, well aware of the masculine’s perversion stories that Kushiana had told her about. Her sister had heard them from two different females in the village during her bi-annual visits to the villagers’ homes, and the first thing she had done upon returning was warn Uliya to steer clear of him. Though Uliya was fairly certain a warning had also been directed at him afterwards, her older sister hardly took matters concerning the safety of females in Citrindally lightly.

Yer nodded as they entered the bedchamber, as though Uliya could see her, then burst out with a cheer that nearly threatened the princess’s hearing. “Oh, Uliya! I completely forgot! you have correspondence from your friends.”

Uliya tilted her head slightly, gently lifted the dove from her shoulder and placed her on the desk opposite the bed.

“Well, let us hear this ear-collapsing correspondence then.” She said, rubbing her forehead.

The dove continued with unceasing exhilaration. “Kira, Smith and Daphne have demanded you make an appearance at your usual spot under the tree. Otherwise they will consider you disengaged and boring after your time away from Fyrgen.”

Uliya narrowed her eyes slightly. “Are you certain those are the words they used, Yer?”

Yer glanced around out of habit to make sure nobody was listening, then whispered, “Cocky and inherently bitchy, actually,” leading Uliya to burst out laughing.

“Demiurge help me, I really missed those cocksuckers.”

“That is blasphemous, Ul.” Yer cried in her usual moral fashion.

The princess simply shrugged. “Not if I am merely being descriptive about their favourite activities.”

A collection of items lay spread across the oldest Valhades heir’s chamber — black stone figurines, wall hangings, pillar candles, jewellery trays, pottery bowls, lacquered boxes of every shape and size, and perfumes. It is sometime in the afternoon. Agnes sorts through correspondence at the large sleek whitewood desk.

As a child, Kushiana had always been cautious. Of those around her in the palace, of the council members, of those existing beyond the continent’s walls. She had known her parents shared a bond far too seamless to be entirely authentic. She had known she needed to protect her siblings. And she had known she never wanted to be queen. All of this at the mere age of five.

Unlike her brother and sister she had never taken to reading or writing. Both were too distracting, too likely to give the swirling thoughts in her head more room than they deserved. She had found her safe haven in movement instead. Walking, running, rearranging the decorations of her chamber in the oddly specific configurations she found comforting, hopping across cobblestones in the palace gardens with the wains she liked from the noble families. Anything to quiet the relentless running of her mind.

But most of all she found pleasure in dancing. She felt most herself when her body moved to a rhythm. Her favourite sequence was the Snowfall Sway — a series of gentle, folded movements that gradually unfurled until her arms opened wide at the end, perfectly imitating the first drifting snowflake, performed in a fitted white dress. She was present and entirely herself in those moments, and to her they felt endless. Elegance had always come to her naturally, even as a child. She wore it without thinking.

She had never been the smiling heir. Her gorgeously high cheekbones and thick brown hair had always been complemented by a slightly disinterested frown, and she had never seen any reason to hide it.

At five and a half, Kushiana met her royal companion Agnes and immediately wondered how she had ever managed the years before without her. In the middle of fulfilling a standard royal tradition she had accidentally found her closest friend. Whether in endless conversation or comfortable silence, the two always managed to meet each other halfway.

“You should let the maids handle that, Kush.” Agnes advises, knowing full well it will be ignored. She knows that when Kushiana’s thoughts begin to spiral she either throws herself into physical training or starts rearranging some corner of her large chamber — bed, bathing, ante, private dining or study. Today it is the items around the armoire and jewellery shelf that have been lucky enough to receive her attention.

Kushiana smirks. “Good idea, Aggy. Shall I attempt to redirect some of my fast-pacing thoughts their way as well.” She says casually, clearly in no mood to be advised.

Agnes rolls her small eyes and returns to writing responses per Kushiana’s instructions. “Oh, earlier while you were in the bathing chamber, Nysleon came by to mention that three new candidates are eager to be your prime lady in waiting. You should speak to them this evening and decide for yourself.”

Kushiana dismisses it with a wave of her hand. “Have them decide among themselves for now. Nobody will quickly replace the comfort I had with Katherine. I will be guarded for a long time before I accept whoever comes next.” Her lady in waiting Katherine had recently resigned, citing her grandmother’s deteriorating health, and returned to her village near Zephridge. Kushiana had been reluctant to let her go but understood the concern. She had sent her off with a box of gold coins to ensure her family’s comfort.

“What did you tell Hinjk and your parents?” Agnes asks, without looking up.

“About what?” Kushiana responds, mentally occupied with sorting her rings by size and stone into a large glass box.

“About the clandestine two day visit we are taking with the frost prince.” The red phoenix cooed with deliberate teasing, and for once Kushiana could not hold back a snort.

“That we are visiting my old friend Deadre in Monville.”

Agnes cocked her head. “Who is Deadre?”

“I have no idea. I made the name up. They were not particularly interested in the details anyway. It is not as though they ever suspect me of lying or doing anything wrong.”

The teasing continued. “And are you planning to do anything wrong, my precious princess? Or anyone?”

“Aggy! The correspondence, please!” Kushiana exclaimed, a warmth making its way up her cheeks.

And then she stopped noticing whether Agnes got back to it at all. Because all she could think of was Caelen’s strong jaw and his gleaming silver-lavender gaze, and for a moment her treacherous thoughts wandered toward his lips.

She only started arranging the rings faster.

At supper time, Uliya ate happily with Yer in her privy hall. Since Kushiana had refused to come out of her chamber stating she was busy with organization. Uliya knew better than to ask questions, she was well aware of how meticulous Kushiana is while rearranging her room. Zir too was away somewhere. He never tells Uliya about his business. Just sent a message through Cecil that he will be gone all afternoon. 

Once done eating sufficiently, the princess decided to finally pay a visit to Luminara before leaving to meet her friends. The weather outside was pleasantly warm today. And she thoroughly enjoyed the solo walk to the eastern wing after telling Yer to come get her after half an hour. 

She knocked on the large oakwood door once, looking around and realizing the wing was mostly empty except for Luminara’s room. 

“Who is it?” Luminara chimed, possibly from the other end of the chamber. Her voice deflecting ability makes it hard to understand exactly where she is talking from. 

“It’s me, Uliya. Open up please.” The princess replied casually. And the doors immediately flew open. 

The intertwined scents of lavender and petrichor hit Uliya as soon as she stepped inside, inviting nostalgia into the princess’ brain. She was fully in its grasp as soon she closed the doors on the way inside.

She loved how Luminara’s room had the perfect balance of serious alchemist and carefree feminine. Currently the moonborn appears to be seeking pleasure from the slice of half eaten strawberry cake on her plate. Lounging back comfortably, with one leg up on the dining room chair.

“Oh did I interrupt? I thought you’d be done with supper by now. I can come back later.” the princess asks awkwardly now wondering if she should have asked her first.

But Luminara barely waves a hand in the direction of the chair opposite her. Gesturing the princess to sit. 

“Wanna have cake?” She asks casually, her own mouth half full with it.

“I already ate, I don’t have an appetite for dessert.”

Luminara nods and puts the plate down, speaking after finishing the share. “Okay. Came to share something urgently I suppose? Not that I am complaining. I just figured you’d need at least a few days to settle back in. Wasn’t expecting you to pop in so soon. Again not that I didn’t want you to.”

Uliya leans back casually in her own chair. “Yeah I guess it’ll take me a while to settle back in. So I thought I might as well visit you properly first, we barely got to talk during the welcome dinner.”

She offers a full nod in response. Keeping the cleanly licked fork back on her plate. “What is it Ul?” 

“I was wondering if you’d be comfortable training me? I did train back there but not as much. And I really don’t wanna do it with Hinjk cause he’s really strict. Also he doesn’t gossip much.” 

A warm smile spreads across Luminara’s face at the words. “Of course, I’d love to. Also, might I add, I have a lot more hair than Hinjk so you might wanna put that into consideration too.” 

Uliya bursts out laughing. “You are ridiculous. I missed you so much Nara.”

Luminara grins right back. “I know, and I missed you like anything too. Much more than Zir might I add.” 

“Obviously, who would miss that dull idiot that much. You’re not gonna believe this, it has barely been a day since we’ve been back. And he’s somehow managed to effortlessly settle back into all his duties. He woke up at sunrise today.”

“Demiurge help him, he really needs to find someone to sleep with, he’s so uptight all the time.”

“Right? And when I told him that he accused me of debauchery.” Uliya adds with an exaggerated eye roll.

“Good to know he’s still the same older brother to you.” Luminara says half laughing.

“Yeah did he not come by? He definitely enjoys your company.” Uliya asks casually. 

“Oh he did, but that was a short visit for something else. We’re meeting for dinner tonight though. Why don’t you join us?” 

Uliya grins and twirls a golden curl with her finger. “I can’t, going to see my friends now. Who knows where I might end up with that lot. There are always so many possibilities.” 

“Mhm good to know atleast one Valhades heir is getting their fair share of action.” Luminara teases with a matching grin and wink and Uliya laughs hard.

The prince struggled to stay in a neutral mood the moment he found himself standing within the boundaries of Ivorvale. It was late afternoon and he had come back for a quick supper once done with the inauguration. He had grown used to seeing the few people he dealt with in the human lands. Back home he had the responsibilities of millions of citizens to look out for, starting with a visit to the Quaser in half an hour. Zir might appear a snob where crowds were concerned, but his distaste for them stemmed from a painful memory — one from back when he was fourteen.

He and Sylveline had been romantically involved for six months. It was the first anniversary of when they had first kissed and he had confessed his feelings for her. They had agreed to meet in Terracinder, the main market square, because he had intended to surprise her with an antique obsidian pocket watch specially commissioned from a skilled old watchmaker there.

It was probably the happiest he had ever been. The only person he had told was Kushiana, who had come to his chamber for an unrelated matter and spotted the flowers on his study desk. Zir never liked making a spectacle of his feelings and preferred to keep things private, even with those closest to him. But Kushiana had been encouraging and had even suggested he have a matching obsidian bracelet made for himself. So off he went on a busy sunny winter afternoon, a heavy black cloak pulled on to avoid being recognised. Lena had wanted to limit their public exposure while they were still growing up.

He arrived at the market square a little early, a bouquet of ombre pink peonies — her favourite — held in one hand. He collected the watch and the bracelet from the watchmaker. But as he stood there he realised his hands had more room and she might love it if he also picked up an onyx dress from her favourite boutique, one that would compliment the watch perfectly. He turned in the opposite direction and sauntered toward it, entirely unaware of what was waiting.

He halted ten steps from the boutique. Not because of anything in the glass display windows but because of what was just outside them. Sylveline. In someone’s arms. In fact arms would be putting it lightly, her mouth was entangled with the boutique owner’s eighteen year old son, who held her close by the waist as they continued with complete ease, as though they had done this many times before. She was giggling between it.

Zir does not remember much about how he got home. Only that the crowd suddenly felt too close, too aware of everything he was carrying. He remembers a few Fyrges turning to look at him as the tears came and the things he had been holding dropped from his hands, encased in blocks of ice that cracked against the ground. His tunic collar felt like a metal chain tightening around his throat. It was only when he looked down through the blurring that he saw the ice had cracked open to reveal the peonies inside — withered and pale now, drained of colour. A single crunch beneath his feet as he walked away from all of it.

When he was home he wept for hours. This was only the third time he had ever cried and it came out worse than a waterfall streaming down the Dewy Tors. The emotions were flooding him to the point that Cecil had entered through the opposite window the moment Zir walked in. His companion had sensed the unease from far away but had kept from meddling per Zir’s early morning instruction.

Later, when Sylveline finally sensed something was wrong from his absence, she had come directly to the palace. “What is wrong?” she had asked from behind the threshold when Cecil slammed the doors shut with whatever little magic he had been saving for exactly this kind of occasion. It was only when Zir’s wobbling lip and teary eyes begged him silently to open them that the raven obliged. And before they could even begin to speak Cecil had fixed her with the deadliest of his bloodshot glares and said “Hopefully you are able to make it through this conversation without shoving your tongue down someone else’s throat, Lady Havburth” before flying out.

She had been visibly unsettled by Cecil, and immediately resorted to apologising. The apologies were followed by several excuses that even then Zir could see for what they were. But he was hopelessly in love with the sixteen year old. Dusk had not even broken when he had already persuaded himself to forgive her. Their arrangement continued — sadly, at the cost of his relationship with his older sister.

Because by fortune or misfortune, a friend of Kushiana’s had witnessed everything in the market square and understood immediately. By the time night fell, Kushiana had already received word and was livid when she entered her brother’s chamber, lightning trickling from her fingertips.

“Please tell me I heard that completely wrong. She cheated on you?” Kushiana had demanded, and Zir had almost curled into something smaller. Almost. Because Kushiana kept going — about how she had always been suspicious of Sylveline and her intentions but had chosen not to say anything because Zir loved her and the prince had gotten angry himself and defended her. Knowing full well that what Sylveline had done was inexcusable. This was the first occasion Zir and Kushiana had ever truly argued. Before it they had always got along. He had essentially worshipped her. But all of a sudden he was not her baby brother anymore but a teenager defending his girlfriend. At least that was what Zir believed she was to him. “What business is it of yours? Do not meddle in my affairs,” he had told her in his seething fury as the argument escalated. The shock on his older sister’s face was unmistakable, palpable even. “I see that is how it is now. Fine,” was all she had said, her voice barely cracking on the last word before she stormed out.

And then it was never the same between them. He had tried to apologise but was scared she would never accept it. Kushiana had unwavering pride and rightfully so. She had looked out for her siblings more than their parents ever had. Regardless, they never brought the matter up again. Over time their conversations grew short and their arguments grew worse. Neither of them could take enough steps to meet each other halfway, and the distance only increased.

As the painful memory flooded him, the prince realised something. He did not hate the crowds. He hated the loud reminder they brought. His broken relationship with his older sister. He took a deep breath and decided to head for Kushiana’s chamber. An apology was long overdue. And time was only making it heavier to carry.

The sky had turned a bland shade of grey by the time Uliya reached the old tavern where her friends were usually found. She had always wondered why the owner named it Andedod — the word held no meaning in ancient Fyrge or the modern tongue. It was only tea time but two wobbly drunks passed her on the way in. She sighed, remembering the good days she had spent in the human world doing the same and more with her friends. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder and immediately froze. Every thought drained out of her head, her heart thudding wildly. The anxiety sprang up on her like a long-forgotten enemy catching her at the worst possible moment. But a familiar voice followed.

“What the hell are you doing standing outside like a frozen block of ice, dumbass?” Daphne demanded, full of teasing.

Uliya turned slowly to find the lean, tan, copper-haired female with the bright blue and currently narrowed almond eyes. Thick eyebrows raised in question. She did not look a day older than when they last met three years ago. She had on a corseted plain brown flowy dress with tall black boots, her jet-black dagger hanging low on the sheath attached to her thick black corset.

Uliya’s lips curved into a smirk. “What else? Thinking of your mama without her priestess robes on.”

The inappropriate response was immediately met with a wickedly thick grin, followed by “Well does she look good kissing yours?”

A beat of silence, then a burst of laughter from both ends and a very tight hug. “Your dirty sense of humour is so necessary to light up this drab place,” Daphne murmured.

“I know,” was all Uliya offered, basking in the warmth of her friend’s embrace.

Soon after, the two entered the tavern together, chatting all the way to the booth at the very end where the rest of their party was already seated.

Kushiana was placing the last of her jewellery boxes when there was a knock at the door. “Come in,” she said, assuming it was supper being sent by the maid. She had eaten a heavy breakfast after early morning training and had not felt particularly hungry during the organisation ritual.

Heavy familiar footsteps followed once the door opened. She turned to check — the palace maids hardly ever made noise in their special footwear.

She found Zir standing there instead, holding out a takeaway bag from her favourite sandwich place in the Citadel.

“Care to eat with me?” he asked. Even from the distance between the armoire and the antechamber she could see the raw emotion on his face.

“Yes, of course. Give me a second.” She closed the armoire door swiftly and made her way to the adjoining private dining hall.

Zir was already seated at the opposite end, the sandwiches and orange-mint juice she liked spread out on the table before him.

“Why are you not eating?” she asked, picking up her plate.

“I poisoned the food.” He offered with a smirk, sipping the juice.

She scoffed and began eating, realising only now how famished she actually was.

Zir looked around the dining hall and antechamber in the meantime. She could tell he had come to say something but was hesitating.

“What did you come to say?” she asked once done with the sandwiches.

His full attention landed on her. He cleared his throat once.

“I came to apologise.”

Kushiana almost choked on the juice but managed to swallow and pressed a napkin to her mouth. “Apologise to me? For what?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

He leaned in slightly and began fidgeting with the crystal angel figurine in the middle of the table.

“For what I said to you back then. That day.” He offered after an insufferably long pause.

Kushiana raised an eyebrow. “Which day? That horrible intervention about the orange hex at your manor in the human lands?”

“It was not—” Zir began, slightly irked, then immediately steadied himself. “No. Not that.”

Kushiana had an urge to snatch the figurine from his hands so he would stop circling the point. But she knew patience was the best thing she could offer her emotionally inexpressive brother.

“Then when?” she asked gently.

He finally set the figurine down and looked up. She thought for a moment she saw his eyes turn glassy as they met hers.

“For what I said to you that night. When you came to me after she cheated on me. I knew it was wrong. I knew I should not have defended her and that you were right about everything. But—” His lip wobbled slightly and a tear slipped out. “I was not ready to accept it back then. And I took it out on you. I know you were looking out for me, Kush. I am sorry. I am so sorry for what I said. I was hurting and you had every right to say what you said. I was completely out of line. And I think it is what drove us apart and I have never stopped feeling guilty about it. I just — please forgive me. I am so tired of us always fighting. You used to be the person I could talk to easily and then I ruined it and I have never not felt the weight of that. I am just so sorry.”

Zir was visibly sobbing by the end, his face in his hands. The Prince of Stars practically drenched in a sadness that had lived in him for eight years and eaten at him quietly all that time. It was only when he felt his sister move and pull him into an embrace that the sobbing stilled. Moments passed before she spoke.

“I cannot forgive you because I was never mad at you, you fool.” she said finally.

Zir broke the embrace. Kushiana looked lighter. Normal.

“What? Really?”

She nodded and caressed his head. “Yes, of course. I knew you were hurting. And I will not lie, the words stung back then. But the only reason I did not push further was because I knew you would take your own time to process and move on. And honestly, now that we are being truthful with each other — I would never have approved of her, and I felt that if I kept forcing that opinion onto you it would only push you further away. I was the older one. I had to be the one to set a boundary. I did not want to keep shoving my view of her into your head. I wanted you to have some breathing room to figure out what was right for you on your own.”

“That makes sense. But are you sure you were not angry with me?”

She laughed and pinched the tip of his nose. “No, you imbecile. And as for the fighting — it is normal. You grew up and suddenly had a working brain of your own. Of course you were not going to trail after me the way you used to. Your opinions grew, and so did our arguments. But why do I need to explain any of this to you? Did you not go through the exact same thing with Uliya?”

He nodded. “Yes. But Uliya is Uliya. And she had different and very reasonable grounds to resent me. We talked about it though.”

She moved his head back gently with her palm. “Good. We did today too. So get the idea that I am angry with you out of your head for good. I could never be angry with you. You are my baby brother.”

“I am twenty two.”

She rolled her eyes and flicked his forehead. “So what, moron? You could be five hundred and I would be five hundred and six and still call you that.”

He nodded, a hint of a smile appearing. “Fair.”