Chapter 67-Lysandra and Elowen #3
"But," he continued, glancing toward me, "I think Lysandra suits her."
"Why?"
His expression became faintly amused. "A future Elysian empress carrying a Kyrian village woman's name."
I understood immediately.
The Kyrian court had refused my mother recognition. She had not been noble. Not royal. Not suitable. Her love made her useful, but never acceptable. She stood beside a king and remained someone history was expected to forget.
Her granddaughter might one day rule the most powerful empire in the known world carrying her name.
Achille's smile sharpened.
"It will irritate them."
Despite the emotion tightening my throat, I laughed.
"That is your reason?"
"It is one reason."
"And the other?"
His gaze softened.
"She raised you."
The answer stole mine.
"She gave me the woman I love," he said simply. "I have no objection to honoring her."
Tears burned behind my eyes.
Raven...or Lysandra, I supposed..looked toward me.
Then she smiled.
Achille noticed.
"Do you like it?"
He lifted her slightly towards his face.
"Lysandra."
The baby clapped.
Once.
Poorly.
Her palms barely met, but the movement happened clearly enough that everyone went quiet.
Then she smiled again.
Achille's entire face brightened.
"She likes it."
Elias slowly lowered the pastry he had been holding.
"No."
Veronica looked toward him. "What now?"
"She understood."
"She reacted to her father's voice."
"He asked whether she liked the name."
"She likes when he talks."
"She clapped at the correct moment."
"She is a baby."
"That explanation becomes less convincing each week."
Lysandra's smile disappeared.
Her head turned.
Slowly.
Directly toward Elias.
He visibly recoiled.
"There."
Achille sighed. "Do not start."
Lysandra stared.
Elias stared back.
The room became oddly quiet.
Her tiny face remained serious. Her brows pulled together faintly, creating the familiar expression that had begun their feud six months earlier.
Elias shifted in his chair.
"I apologize," he said carefully, "but you could at least attempt to behave more like an infant."
Veronica stared at him. "She is behaving like an infant."
"No, Songbird behaves like an infant."
"Her name is Elowen now."
"What ever but she rolls over and celebrates for ten minutes. This one watches tax discussions."
"She likes voices."
"She dislikes mine."
"That is understandable," Achille said.
Elias ignored him and leaned slightly toward Lysandra. "You are deeply unsettling."
Her lower lip trembled.
Achille's face changed instantly.
"Elias."
"I barely said anything."
The baby's face crumpled.
Then she cried.
One wounded little sound escaped, followed by another. Tears gathered in her eyes. Achille drew her immediately against his chest and began rubbing her back, his expression turning murderous over the top of her head.
"Stop harassing my daughter."
"I did not harass her."
"You called her unsettling."
"She is."
"I will throw you in prison."
"You cannot imprison the acting ruler."
"I can imprison anyone."
"You need me."
"Shut up."
Lysandra cried harder.
Achille glared at Elias as though each tear became another criminal charge.
"Apologize."
Elias's mouth fell open. "She is manipulating you."
"She is six months old."
"That has never stopped her."
"Apologize."
"This is ridiculous."
Achille began rising from the bed.
Elias lifted both hands. "Fine."
He looked toward the baby.
"I sorry ."
The crying stopped.
Immediately.
Not gradually.
One moment, Lysandra wailed against her father's chest.
The next, silence.
She lifted her head over Achille's arm.
Tears still clung to her lashes.
Her mouth curved.
A small, pleased smile aimed directly toward Elias.
Every person in the room saw it.
No one spoke.
Elias pointed with the pastry still in his hand.
"See?"
Achille looked down at his daughter. I stared in confusion as Lysandra slowly smiled at Elias.
It was a strange almost smug like smile. "She wanted to watch me suffer."
Veronica recovered first. "That proves nothing."
"It proves everything."
"She stopped because you apologized."
"Exactly."
"Babies respond to tone."
"She responded to victory."
Achille looked toward Elias. "You upset her."
"She framed me."
"She cannot frame anyone."
"She just did."
Lysandra cooed.
Elias pointed again.
"That is laughter."
"It is not."
"She is celebrating."
Achille kissed the top of her head, though I saw the beginning of a smile he tried to hide against her hair.
"You are imagining things."
"No," Elias said. "All of you are refusing to accept that this child understands far too much."
Veronica rolled her eyes.
I looked at Lysandra.
She had already lost interest in the argument. Her head rested against Achille's chest again, one hand gripping his shirt. Her eyes grew heavy. Within moments, the strange awareness disappeared beneath the ordinary softness of a tired infant.
Perhaps Elias was wrong.
He usually was.
Perhaps Lysandra simply recognized patterns quickly. Perhaps she liked the sounds Elias made when frustrated. Perhaps the timing had been coincidence.
Achille settled Lysandra against his chest, completely unaware that the child had won another battle in a war only she and Elias seemed to understand.
"So," he said, "Lysandra and Elowen."
The names quieted the room again.
I looked toward the open nursery door where our younger daughter slept.
Elowen.
Gentle, cheerful, loud Elowen.
Then toward the child resting against her father.
Achille looked at me.
"Agreed?"
I nodded.
"Agreed."
Veronica smiled.
Elias reached for another pastry.
"I still believe Elias Junior had potential."
Without looking toward him, Lysandra began to cry.
Elias froze.
The room broke into laughter.
He stared at the child.
She went quiet again.
Then, without opening her eyes, smiled against her father's chest.
Elias lowered the pastry slowly.
"I am telling you," he whispered. "She knows."
Perhaps she did.
Perhaps she did not.
Either way, Lysandra had officially received her name.
And Elias had officially lost the argument.