Ayre

That Amari and Astraea seem willing to leave without the need for some verbal or physical cue from me comes as a relief. Especially now, knowing what I do of Cerya’s past, I don’t want her to feel like she is without power to influence the ones I have brought into her home.

Amari informs me of her intentions to do a favor for Snapdragon. I assure her that sounds harmless enough.

For her part, Astraea expresses a wish to take the map with her. As the one who is most in danger, I encourage her to take all the time she needs.

When everyone else has left the room, Cerya allows herself to wilt in her chair.

It seems I alone get to see her vulnerable.

Knowing that we are well within Amari’s hearing until she exits the structure, I take my time striding to Cerya’s side.

I start by offering her my hand, silently willing her to understand that she will be supported in whatever she might need.

My Seed Seer stares at my hand with disinterest, blinks, and wills herself to meet my gaze with all the energy of someone who has not slept in days. “Sorry for dismissing everyone. I just…” Cerya does not finish her thought.

Instead she takes my hand and I extend the other to help her to her feet. “It gets easier.” I say, with intent to elaborate.

Cerya slowly begins to shake her head. “No. It’s not that. Resonance work suits me. You taking as little as you do is comparable.” She gestures wide to the space around the table. “It is all of this that I am struggling to handle. Had I known you were going to hold a strategy meeting, I wouldn’t have let you feed on me.”

It was more of a tactical planning session, but I know better than to correct someone who I have so recently fed upon.

Cerya isn’t at her best.

And if I were being honest with myself, neither am I. But thanks to her, I can better grasp what is most important.

Feeding on Cerya has brought me an awareness of the corpses Lunarians have piled high all around me. I just lacked the context to understand what I was seeing or why it might be important, to the Lunarians and Vylians both.

I only thought it worthy of noting the function of the blue topaz Theriya used to light a dark room, or the emerald the Second Thorn used to disintegrate javelins. That the watchers had prominent gemstones worked into their masks seemed self-evident. If it is they who watch the walls at night, surely they would need the enhanced ability to sense potential threats.

But now I know what those threats are.

Everything has always been at the expense of the Cinder Blights. Even Vylia’s own might is enhanced by the crafted gemstones filled with unnecessary emotions.

Each gemstone I have seen adorning the Lunarians, from the deep amber eyes of Mel’Viora to the two pieces of cloudy rose quartz hanging from Cerya’s ears, is a weapon or tool shaped from the corpse of a Cinder Blight.

A look of guilt accompanies the removal of Cerya’s rose quartz earrings. This time Cerya doesn’t muster up the energy to meet my eyes.

“Don’t apologize.” I say. “They sent a monster and my trained wyrm slayer to address your failures, remember?” For all I know, there might be an expectation that I feed on her and keep her compliantly subdued.

My framing teases out a smile from Cerya. Something about the look strikes me helpless. When she speaks, her voice is delicate. “You’re right, of course.”

“I probably shouldn’t have fed on you.” I say, attempting to express regret.

But Cerya grimaces. “No. You brought me closure and pulled away the moment you understood what I needed you to. That’s… Well, I’m not sure what it will mean in the long term. But for right now, you are continuing to prove worthy of my favor and trust.”

I accept what I am given, wondering how else I can be delicate with her. “There’s no going back. But now that I’m here and understand, has it really gone all that poorly for us so far?”

Cerya gives me a tired look. “Remind me again how many times you have been threatened or attacked since you’ve arrived.”

I open my mouth, but find no words.

Instead I am treated to a satisfied smile gracing Cerya’s lips. “I won’t begrudge the points you have made. You have your own history that I scarcely imagine.” Cerya pauses to squeeze my hand gently in hers. “But, we should probably be focusing on making time for rest and affirmations that are long overdue.”

I hold her hand tenderly in my own. In this moment, I wonder how willing I will be to lay claim to this body when I convince myself to face it in the mirror. “Of course.” I finally say, deciding that I do not wish to run from this.

“I have two requests.” Cerya says, the gentleness of her voice drawing my gaze.

“You need but name them.” I declare.

Cerya gestures to where the food is stored. “On the wall by the door should be a number of roots hanging from a shelf. My first request is that you fill one of the cups on that shelf with water, a root, and carry it up with you.”

“Is this for Theriya?” I ask, already on my way to carry out her bidding.

She nods in my direction before looking herself over with a hand mirror. “There’s been movement upstairs. Normally she would be awake by now, but I imagine she is currently prioritizing Selescia over her own wellbeing.” As Cerya turns towards the stairs, she begins to even out how much hair is bound up between bands until both lengths are divided at regular intervals. “Whenever you expose yourself to an abundance of resonance, you need to set aside time to touch base with yourself. It need not always be right away. You and Theriya can always put it off, but it is worth at least monitoring your changes.”

I try hard to not think about my chest beginning to show signs of no longer being mine but taking on features more from Lenore, Fia, or Selescia.

Belatedly she adds, “If desired, Theriya and I could help you be more intentional with your bodily changes. If you are going to be regularly resonating with something intensely enough to crack a gemstone, you’re going to change a lot whether you like it or not.”

Regret freezes me in place for a moment. So much has happened. It is easy to forget that my instructions for the day were to fill these stones to capacity.

But can I really turn these unpleasant thoughts and unasked for changes into something intentional?

Immediately I think of Astraea, and wonder what she would have to say on the subject.

I follow through with the instructions given to me before looking down at the arrangement of roots, cup, and tap so clearly set by the door. It is all so neatly arranged that I can’t help but see the intention in it that Cerya would. “This is part of Theriya’s routine, isn’t it?”

Cerya has lowered herself to sit on the stairs leading up while she waits. Her reply is delayed by a brief little yawn. “You have the right of it. Theriya always grounds herself for the day to come with some bitter tea in our library.”

I close the distance between us, tea in hand. “Before I get to your second request, would you mind if I asked about your morning routine as well?” How would her day have changed if she were not immediately called away to help me fill gemstones and assist with the wounded?

“Of course.” Cerya leans back into the stairs, staring up their winding ascension. “I am not what most would call an early riser. I like to linger in my flower for as long as I can get away with. But once I am up and about, I usually crave something sweet to motivate me to confront the unpleasantness of the approaching day.”

“Duly noted.” I say, once again offering her a hand to help her onto her feet. I will likely have further questions about what sweet foods and drinks are on offer, but that can wait until another morning. “I do believe you had a second request for me?”

There is a moment of hesitation. Cerya even goes so far to avert her gaze. “I would like to request some time out of your day to care for me like you do your dolls.”

I pause on the step ahead of her. “Why frame it like that?”

Cerya looks longingly at the bitter tea in my hands. “Is it so wrong for a girl to ask her betrothed to show me the same care that you would for the others you have loved?”

I give her an unimpressed look. “It wouldn’t be, if that is what you wanted. But let’s assume for the moment that it is.” I set aside fresh insights into how she thinks and acts in order to fulfill her request.

This starts by softening my voice. “I would start by being plain with you about the uncompromising truth of everything I share with them.” It is something I only feel comfortable doing because they are more a prisoner of their circumstances than I. This provokes a deep sigh over what I have yet to admit. “Fia and Selescia… They are privy to my every moment of doubt and hesitation. I would not insult you by attempting to lie about this. An important part of my connection with my dolls is that I make myself as vulnerable to them as I can.”

Cerya rises to the step alongside me, lingering long enough to lean against me. “I can see why this isn’t easy for you to talk about.”

I nod before continuing. “One of the earliest compromises I made, at Selescia’s request, was to include her in every detail of what is happening at court. This next part is important. They deserve the best possible chance at escaping the life Vylia would demand of them, with or without me.”

I get a sad smile in return. “Thank you, for sharing that. If it helps, what I wanted most was to know how to take care of them if something were to happen to you.” She reaches out to gently take my hand in hers.

“I appreciate that.” I say, stopping shy of adding anything further. Cerya knows all too well the kind of effect that feeding without care for another’s expense can have. “Very well. As soon as I deliver this tea to Theriya, you and Selescia will have my undivided attention.” I keep my voice warm and gentle as I guide my Seer up the winding staircase.

Can I really admit that anything about this arrangement is all that unexpected?

If anything, I am more caught off guard by how quickly the number of people I feel I must protect has grown.

Astraea and I are going to have words tonight. Hopefully we can find the time before the moon drives threats to the gates of the grove.

I might loathe how it feels like there is never enough time, but I can seize what time I have been given.

Now is the time to make the most of these moments of quiet.

Maybe someone can quiet my growing sense of dread that came from feeding upon Cerya.

***

This is wrong.

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I take it all back.

I don’t deserve this.

I don’t want to be treated like Lenore.

I can’t.

I would be willing to subject myself to anything but this.

“Ayre!” Cerya snaps. “Would you please sit still, for me?”

Her fingers pry free yet another clump of dried blood from my hair, leaving me contemplating the quickest way to escape the room.

Selescia frets at me from the side opposite of Cerya. “How did you get so much blood in your hair?”

It takes a deep breath to still my thoughts and remind myself that both of my companions have recently been fed upon.

I should be making this easy for them, not harder.

But to answer the question at hand, I need to think back. How do I frame this?

“I… hugged myself.” I say.

“With arms and hands covered in blood?” Selescia asks in disbelief.

Cerya’s hands come to a stop. “Oh. Should I… excuse myself for this conversation?”

Cerya was much easier to tell.

Selescia, on the other hand, is far more emotionally invested in the details of this particular question’s answer.

“It was my blood.” I hear myself say, before deciding to just let it all out. “I felt it tug at my hands, guiding them into place.”

Selescia looks between the two of us, not sure what to make of my words.

I continue. “Before I knew it, I felt the back of her hand on my cheek. It drifted lower, and, well, you know how Lenore was. I was… being comforted.”

I reach out to Selescia, offering her the specific touch of comfort that has long been denied to her.

Lenore’s doll looks down, leaning into our hand in the process.

It takes a few moments.

Cerya and I exchange uncertain glances.

But then Selescia begins to wash the last of the blood from my hair with vigor.

“You would not lie to me without good reason.” Selescia finally says aloud, her eyes narrow in thought.

The exact frame of words combined with feeding upon Cerya demands an upwards quirk of the corner of my lips.

Selescia only begins to scrutinize me more intensely.

And then, she mouths the name under her breath.

Lenore.

It is enough to cause her to visibly shudder. She grips tightly at the clots of blood and hair in her hands before letting them fall to the side.

“We’re here.” I say. “I don’t know if I can explain it. But you know her better than I did. Spill my blood if you think it will help you find proof that she is not just my wretch of a parasite, but something more than memory.”

Selesia’s voice tightens as she makes a visible effort to squeeze out a verbal reply. “Tell me everything. Spare me no detail.”

I oblige her demand. “We should get more comfortable then.”

Taking Selescia and Cerya by the hand, I arrange everyone in bed petals. Selescia claims the one sitting opposite from me, while Cerya seems content to share a petal.

It takes time.

I find myself having to interrogate my memories of the day’s events and how I feel about them. Having Cerya and Selescia nearby makes it easier. And I can’t help but come to see my actions as reckless. If something were to happen to me, it would be at the expense of far too many people for me to be comfortable with.

By the time I am done, Selescia has taken a more active role in interrogating me for details. She makes time to retrieve her knife and draw my blood.

What follows is an elaborate and emotional coaxing out of muscle memories and movements that are so very clearly more Lenore’s than mine.

We are struck by how clear it is to Selescia that there are moments when our hands are more Lenore’s than mine.

Our doll nearly chokes on her words as she moves from her bed petal to ours. She presses her head against our bandaged chest, laying claim to us by denying any opportunity to escape having two girls now clinging tightly to us.

When Selescia finally renders her conclusion, her calculated demeanor gives way to something frustrated and emotional. “I don’t know what would be more cruel. Either you are right and you have been attempting to recklessly figure yourself out in all the most ill-advised ways. Or, and I really must emphasize this, you have allowed yourself to become misguided by the very wretch that took Lenore from us.”

Curious, that she lays the blame on the parasite, and not our Twelfth sibling.

“What would be the difference?” We ask, willing ourselves to not recognize our hands.

Selescia’s expression sours.

We shake our head, centering Ayre’s doubts. “Maybe the two of us are just wretched enough to convince you all that we care.”

Selesica waves her knife at us with a grin. “Now that’s just Ayre talking. And you’re only hard on yourself because you care. What would be the point? You could have replaced us at any point. And yet you recklessly endangered yourself to claim a position of great enough standing to justify a second blood doll.” Her grin fades as she draws her ear to our chest, her expression steadily softening with each beat. “There is no reason in my mind that a monster wearing Ayre and Lenore’s memories would go through all the trouble.”

We sigh. “We adore how quickly you came to that conclusion. We weren’t sure if you would accept this, even if this is closer to the truth of things.”

This gets a pleased smile out of Selescia. “Lenore, stop sweet talking me. You know I”m not Fia. I can handle this without needing to dissect you.”

Any real arguing the point soon gives way to Selesia just squeezing us uncomfortably tight. “I’m going to need time to decide how I feel about all this. And you need to stop getting hurt long enough for me to not worry about losing Lenore a second time.”

It is at that moment that we look down at Cerya, whose head has been resting in our lap for the majority of this conversation.

Our Seed Seer lets out a breath that we didn’t know she had been holding. “So we’re all in agreement then?” Her voice is light, but the delivery is conspiratorial.

“About what?” We ask.

“To call you Princess.” Cerya lets the words fall from her mouth.

Observing that I do not immediately recoil from her embrace or being called Princess, Selescia follows Cerya’s words to their natural conclusion. “I don’t know if I can call you my Lenore anytime soon, but it would mean a lot to me if I could call you mistress until then.”

This provokes such a strange array of responses in us.

Guilt attempts to reign in the warmth threatening to overtake us.

Doubt tugs at recognition.

And when we stop to interrogate these feelings, we are struck by confusion as we follow them to the different sources tnat we expect.

Repeating the thoughts and words that have been said aloud in our mind so clearly gets different responses.

Ayre’s guilt is well established. But the recognition of being Selescia’s Mistress feels like a long overdue relief. Allowing ourselves to deepen our relationship with Selescia only feels right now that we’ve whisked her away from living in a Vylian castle.

After being separated for so long, it is little wonder that Lenore would feel warmth at being reunited with Selescia. But the doubts that cause us to hesitate over every opportunity to grow… Are very firmly hers.

When the connection between us snaps, I can’t help but see it as an intentional division.

The doubts and warmth fade from my mind, and I am left to question what I have done wrong.

How much of the doubt I have been drowning in all this time has been mine?

When I draw upon Lenore, and feed her my blood, what is the full extent of the relationship between who is affecting who? What does she experience when we are not linked?

Is she always here? Or is she confined to somewhere dark and isolated from the sensations that we experience, seated alone atop my heart?

“I don’t know.” I finally say. And I worry about making decisions at Lenore’s expense.

That I mean what I say appears to be well understood by the expressions of my partners. They both hesitate, willing to break off our physical contact in order to give me space.

And then Cerya’s ears twitch.

It’s not long before I hear the approaching footsteps, as soft as they are.

“This can’t matter.” I say with decisive firmness. “No matter what either of us want, I’m going to have to be the Prince that my siblings expect of me. At least for now.”

All of this is of course undermined by Amari entering the room with what appears to be an unusually long piece of red fabric bundled in her arms.

Of all the things she could be interrupting us with…

It had to be a dress, didn’t it?

Amari even has the good grace to freeze in place. “Oh. And here I thought I timed this perfectly.” She says, ending her words with a pout.

I…

I want to harden my expression.

To be upset.

But she’s doing something for me, isn’t she?

A favor for Snapdragon, even.

I force myself to wave Amari into the room. “Don’t apologize. Not for overhearing or attempting to present me with a thoughtfully timed gesture. It’s appreciated, really.” But no amount of willing myself to be appreciative can stop my mouth from tightening into a firm line that just can’t hold a smile.

The vulpine advisor of mine doesn’t buy it. And why should she? My immediate response to her arrival was to squirm from Selescia’s embrace and utter words that caused Cerya to create distance from resting her head on my lap.

Amari’s vulpine snout falls ever so slightly. “No. It’s fine. I’m clearly intruding and I know when I am unwelcome.” Something about her words read as more true and genuine than I expect from Amari.

I can’t help but feel like I need to interrogate our relationship.

Between the acting on behalf of one of my siblings, the delight she has taken in being an annoying taste of the adjustment period I am still going through in adapting to interacting with Lunarians, I’m not sure where exactly I earned her investment.

How genuinely did she interpret our shared deceit in front of the Watchers?

What motivated her to run away from the fighting that followed?

It occurs to me then that Selescia and Cerya only saw the aftermath of my being stabbed in the heart.

Amari had to witness it.

Feeling like I have made some grave misjudgement, I calm my own doubts over how well I will be able to handle this conversation.

I point to the mirror. “Go ahead and hang it over there.”

Amari does so in silence.

But before she can leave, I muster up what apology I can. “I didn’t mean to make you feel unwelcome. I might be struggling with making sense of the revelations you’ve led me to. But none of that is an excuse to lash out at you.”

Amari says nothing, but something causes her to linger in the doorway. She’s faced away from us all now, but will likely still hear anything I say long after she leaves the room.

And yet she lingers.

So I take a deep breath.

It takes effort to resist attempting to add Lenore’s senses to my own. But she’s already pulled away from me today.

This is something I should handle on my own.

I rise to my feet, and begin striding not towards Amari but the dress now dangling from the mirror.

“I won’t ask for your forgiveness. But before I leave to deal with the Full Moon with Astraea in tow, I planned to revisit your offer to sell me something more fitting to wear for meeting my future bound.” My words ring in my ear like a good start. I am proving that I have been listening and considering her words.

Out of the corner of my eye, I swear Amari’s tail begins to twitch before being held in place. An involuntary reaction?

I press on. “What I think I wanted most from you is help making an impression upon my siblings.” I narrow my eyes and lower my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. My hands reach out to take the dress in hand.

I connect all of that to what she has presented to me.

The fabric is so soft that it strikes me as frivolity. Its design would be considered bold for anyone but a doll to wear at court with so much of my neck, shoulders, and back exposed.

And yet, it is the kind of gown that I would imagine turning heads at court if I were to wear it.

To present myself as an openly pretty and vulnerable thing despite the number of siblings I have killed in such a short time, I think I would be hard pressed to make a more bold impression than that.

And while I could thank Snapdragon for the idea of asking Amari for a favor, there’s this amusing notion I’ve been entertaining in the back of my mind since feeding on Cerya.

When one entrusts a task to another, the desired ends and means can only do so much to shape the intentions of the one carrying it out. Try as one might to smother out any dissent, there is always the risk of enabling the kind of change in perspectives that can imagine entirely different outcomes arising from the same means and ends.

Forget the words of what is expected of me. There is a beating heart within me and everyone I have surrounded myself with that finds a willingness to make ourselves vulnerable to each other.

How had the Second Thorn framed it? We are all courting ruin together?

“I’m going to deal with the Cinder Blights.” I say, holding the dress out between me and the mirror. “I’ll even welcome my siblings with open arms. But I’m going to achieve all of that and more on my own terms, as the Fourteenth Princess Ayre.”

From the right angle?

With a dress positioned between me and my reflection like a suit of armor against the parts of my body that I cannot stand…

I can almost see a version of myself worthy of admiration.

I pull the dress away from the mirror and clutch it tight. What I see no longer matters, not when everyone around me so clearly sees what I struggle to.

My voice trembles as I turn to find Selescia, Cerya, and Amari all giving me their undivided attention. “If you’re all willing,” I say, briefly considering how best to back away from admitting what I feel to be true.

No.

We’ll see this through to the end.

“I would like to present myself as a Princess who represents everyone who found worth in me when I thought myself wanting. I don’t want to do any of this alone, not when what comes next could be so much better if I gave you all a say in how we handle things.”

Selescia covers her mouth.

Cerya’s lips tighten.

My gaze turns to settle on Amari, who has retrieved something from her pouch.

It is a bone tooth charm, dangling from a well worn thread.

As she approaches me, she makes her intent clear. “I’m entrusting the lives of my sisters to you. If things do not go to plan, I want you to show them this so that they will act as if you can be trusted.”

I turn the tooth over in my hands. “What’s so special that you and they would so easily place your trust in me?”

Amari’s tail flicks to the side. And I am treated to one of her predatory smiles. “This is a fang of the great wolf Amari. Of which, my sisters and I all share an equal claim to, in body and name.”

And just like that, I feel the weight of my doubts ease.

I find it curious that everything that once burdened me can, in this moment, can suddenly be looked back upon as small and insignificant. Somehow, I have convinced myself that my most isolating and vulnerable thoughts that make me difficult or unpleasant to engage with could never be points of connection to others who make it their reason to extend me the benefit of the doubt.

Snapdragon and I feel suffocated by the roles assigned to us, but even without needing to be told, she managed to grasp that I needed an opportunity to change my presentation in more than words.

Cerya likely felt comfortable sleeping next to me the moment I showed her how little I drain the blood dolls who are entrusted to me for this purpose. Every little delicate maneuver we have taken to accommodate and comfort each other has led to her entrusting me with her very sense of self.

And now I find myself faced with the perspective and potential trust of someone who is far more than she appears. What newfound understanding of myself and Lenore will I find upon uniting Amari with others who share her likeness and namesake?

To be accommodated, comforted, and entrusted with everything that my siblings would squander means more to me now than holding any specific number or privilege that comes with my place in my family hierarchy ever could.

It is with a newfound depth of understanding myself and where I stand, that I attempt to treasure what time I have left to spend with each and every one of them.

I have more now to risk and lose than anything I could claim before.

Under the light of the Full Moon, I will have the opportunity to prove that I can do more than merely protect all that I hold dear.

One last risk.

A little recklessness on Cerya’s behalf.

I would like to extend to the Moon a promise of greater bloodshed in the future.

All I ask in exchange is an opportunity to show mercy to those who have been denied it for longer than I have been alive.