Chapter 2 #2
“Dinner sounds lovely,” Ashtine said suddenly, interrupting whatever Renly was saying.
He blinked a few times before saying, “Okay … Ermir will be pleased.”
“Shall we go eat?”
“Right now?”
“It is the latter part of the evening, is it not?”
Renly nodded slowly. “Princess, is everything all right?”
But Ashtine only nodded, turning and leading the way back down the same path they’d just taken.
Renly spoke to some staff as they passed, asking them to prepare dinner sooner than planned, and she felt a little guilty about the sudden change of plans.
But if she wanted some peace from her Court for the next few days, she needed to have this meal with them.
It usually kept them placated for at least a week, and then she found it easier to slip away to the catacombs or move among the winds.
Minutes after she’d taken a seat at the dining table, Ermir and Sion, the general of her forces, came through the door, eyes immediately falling to her. She forced a smile, hands folded in her lap.
“I didn’t quite believe the note when Renly said you were joining us for dinner,” Sion said with a fond smile.
“Why would he lie about something so trivial?” Ashtine asked curiously.
“He only means you have been hard to track down as of late,” Ermir answered, taking his seat to her right before reaching over and squeezing her arm gently. “How do you fare, Princess?”
Forcing another small smile, she answered, “Well. And you?”
Ermir chuckled softly, reaching to fill her glass with wine. “I suppose I should have worded that in a different manner. While I am glad you are physically well, despite forgetting to eat several meals, how are you faring otherwise? I know the winds have been troubling you lately, Princess.”
Princess.
She knew they called her that out of respect.
It was her title, and Ermir had insisted everyone use it because she was so young when she took her throne.
He didn’t want anyone using her given name as a way to subtly undermine her.
She understood that, but hearing Prince Briar use her name earlier in the day had been …
She didn’t know what it had been, but she suddenly found herself wishing more people used it.
Talwyn used it frequently, but that was different.
Ermir had stopped using it the day of her coronation.
Now that she was really giving it thought, she couldn’t recall the last time someone other than Talwyn had used her given name outside of introducing her.
Waves and winds will call to forces you do not want here, came the whisper, stirring her hair as the winds curled around her ear.
Ashtine reached for her wine, eyeing the open window.
It took several seconds before she realized how still and silent the room had become.
She found the eyes of her most-trusted on her, full of worry and unease, and not for the first time, she wished her mother were here.
Or, at the very least, someone else who could hear the constant chattering of the winds.
“How did she manage them?” Ashtine asked into the quiet of the room.
Sion and Renly exchanged a look, but Ermir’s features softened in understanding. “Ophelia had centuries of experience with the winds, and even then, there were times she felt overwhelmed by their veiled whispers and ominous chattering.”
He could say her mother’s name, but not hers.
It made her inexplicably want to throw something.
Power will be resurrected.
Darkness and fire of the stars will draw out the prince who hides in plain sight.
Gritting her teeth, Ashtine pushed to her feet, moving to shut the open window. It wouldn’t do any good, but it was an excuse to leave the table for a moment. But as she reached for the small handle, the cry of a hawk had her pausing.
Nasima.
She hadn’t seen the silver hawk in several weeks, and a part of her had felt out of sorts that entire time.
Something eased in her chest as she spotted the bird gliding on the winds of the Shira Cliffs.
The hawk was the spirit animal of Sefarina, the goddess of wind, and she was bonded to Ashtine.
She knew her bond with Nasima was unique.
She’d seen Talwyn and Prince Azrael with their bonded spirit animals.
The wolf and red stag came and went as they pleased, gone more than they were present, but Nasima rarely left Ashtine for more than a day or two at a time.
Weeks without her had only increased her agitation.
Instead of grasping the handle, Ashtine extended her hand out into the cool air. Moments later, taloned feet wrapped gently around her forearm, and she brought the bird inside, brushing her fingers down soft feathers.
“Where have you been, my friend?” she murmured. Nasima clicked her beak and tipped her head into Ashtine’s touch.
“Did you want the window shut, Princess?” Sion asked, and Ashtine turned to find her general standing a few paces away.
“Yes, please,” she answered, returning to her seat and letting Nasima hop to the back of her chair.
“Shall we discuss your concerns from earlier?” Renly asked as staff began setting plates of food before them.
“It seems rather pointless. They are the same concerns we’ve discussed prior,” she answered, studying her plate of food. She wasn’t hungry in the slightest.
“The winds still speak of a coming war?” Sion asked with a slight frown on his lips. “Do you feel we are unprepared if such a thing would happen?”
“I am not doubting your skills or your leadership, Sion.”
“But you still feel we are not adequately prepared,” he repeated, cutting into his meat. “We’ve increased our numbers, and we’ve been working on relations with the Witches.”
“I am aware of what precautionary steps we have taken,” she snapped, her hands flat on the table on either side of her plate.
A warning sound came from Nasima, and Ashtine knew if she looked, her feathers would be ruffled.
Blood will be shed.
A prince will fall.
The realm hangs in the balance.
A beginning or an ending? Time will tell.
The answers lie across the sea.
She didn’t want to think about the kingdom across the sea. The kingdom that had been a part of starting the Great War in the first place, then created wards to protect their land while leaving the rest of them to finish the war and suffer greatly for it.
Ashtine stood then, her chair scraping as it slid across the stone floor, and Nasima released an agitated sound. “I apologize,” she said, her voice sounding as defeated as she felt in the moment. “You all are correct. I am not feeling well, and I think I will retire early this night.”
“Princess—” Ermir started.
But he was cut off when she said, “Good night.”
She did not wait to hear their protests or their inquiries as to whether she needed a Healer.
Nasima flew to her shoulder as the dining room doors were pushed open for her, and she made her way back to her private rooms in the Citadel.
But she did not climb into her bed or curl up in a chair before the fireplace. Noelle was already waiting for her, a cloak in hand along with warmer shoes. Nasima trilled a small greeting, gliding to a bed post to wait for her return.
“Be safe, your Grace,” Noelle said with a bow of her head as Ashtine pulled the hood of the cloak up over her hair and stepped into the winds.
She would figure this out. It was her duty to her Court to protect them.
She was their princess after all.
Not Ashtine.
Princess Ashtine.
This was her burden to bear.