With a swirl of his dark cape, Bjarke was astride his horse and off again. Lyssia’s father placed a hand on her shoulder and, pressing his arm against her shoulder blades, he led her out to stand in the empty no man’s land between his tent and the crossroads sign. His fingers clenched tighter around her shoulder as Bjarke met the group atop the hill. Lyssia's hand inched up until it made contact with his. He didn't release his hold, but his fingers relaxed at the soft touch.

They stayed that way - Lyssia's hand atop her father's, his arm leaning on her shoulders - as the Listorians' animals picked careful paths down the steep side of the hill. Lyssia felt everyone else present gather around them. She tried to speak once, turning her head to see if Carryn was standing near her, but her father made a disapproving noise in the back of his throat and she snapped back to attention.

Three men pulled forward to lead the Listorian party forward. Lyssia recognized two of them. Bjarke rode on the right and her uncle, Eindre, sitting ramrod straight and bearing a brooch with the mark of Ilvana on each shoulder, rode on the left.

The man in the middle could only be the Listorian Kongr. His coloring and the loose cut of his clothes set him apart from his Ilvanian entourage, but even alone, his confident bearing would have given him away as someone used to being looked up to and not down on.

Kongr Andev did not stop at the crossroads as Eindre and Bjarke did, but continued a few paces past them and dismounted on his own. He smiled at Lyssia and her father, but instead of stepping forward to greet them, he held up a hand beseeching them to wait and turned back to the carts.

One of Andev's men came forward to take control of his horse while he walked back to the first cart and the woman who was being handed down from a drop-step set into the cart's side.

Andev waved the man aside and helped his wife to the ground. Most of the Listorians present - including the rest of her family - had chosen to wear pale colors. But Igone stood out in her flowing white gown, white as the wool of a year old lamb before its first shearing.

Her hair was just as pale as the rest of her kinsmen, but her skin was a shade darker as if she spent more time out in the sun than any of the others. Her feet were clad in sandals that left her iridescent toenails and ankle adornments free. Lyssia was shocked to see that her left hand was dyed a light pea green.

Igone of the green thumb...hmmm.

But even that mystery could not compare to the allure of the necklace she bore around her strong neck.

At least it had to be strong, Lyssia thought, to hold the weight of the wide band of jewelry bedecked in golden feathers and shimmering silver and emerald disks. A portion wrapped around her neck, and two pieces shaped like curled paws were draped over her shoulders.

A final thick strand had been made to resemble a sleeping animal's head, its tiny cheek pressed up against the side of her neck. The way it lay coiled up against the three strands that encircled Igone's throat made her think it might be the necklace's clasp.

Lyssia shifted on her feet and narrowed her eyes, trying to identify the creature by its strange head. It had a delicate snout, gold-dipped feathery plumage sprouting from its crown and down its neck, and tiny silver gems like stars dusting its closed eyelids. Lyssia could not even begin to put a name to the beast; she had never seen anything like it.

The golden-haired Drottingr stepped gracefully down from the cart. As her foot met the ground, something green billowed out behind her. An attached cape? Lyssia hoped so, because she could not see how Igone was staying warm without sleeves or a cloak.

On the other side of the cart, another guard was helping two girls in matching peach-colored dresses to the ground. A boy jumped out after them, pulling on one of his sister's hair as he went. To her credit, the girl managed to not cry out, but Lyssia did see her stomp on her brother's boot with her dainty slipper and send him sprawling in the dirt.

Lyssia drank in her triumphant smirk and his surly pout. It had been too long since she had seen a face. How must she and her father in their masks of hardened leather that hid their faces from brow to chin look in comparison. Her nerves doubled in size, but she lowered her hand and clenched them together before her, and she did not give in to her urge to back away.

Her father would never forgive her if she messed up their first meeting with the Listorians. This was their chance for alliance, for peace, for security among the other kongdomren. If the history texts she had read were still to be believed, Listoria held no small amount of wealth and power. If they were able to create a friendly, mutually beneficial relationship with Listoria, then forming alliances with the others would not be far behind.

Drottingr Igone called her children over to her as Andev reached into the cart to pull out another, smaller boy. He had one arm clamped around the boy's middle and the other holding fast to his arms, but the boy managed to wriggle free of his father's hold and rush over to his mother.

He clung to her skirts and yelled, "I'm hungry, Mam! Hungry!"

"Shh! Hush now." Igone swung him up into her hip, whispering in his ear and shooting a glance at the group of Ilvanian's waiting for them. She gestured to one of their guards to bring them something from the other cart. The boy began to clap his hands together and whine, but Igone shushed him again.

While his wife was occupied with his younger son, Andev took control of the other children, lining them up in front of him. Igone accepted the requested item from the guard - a small orange fruit - and handed it to the boy who had declared himself hungry. He uttered one cry of glee, stuck the whole fruit in his mouth, then was silent.

A strange look passed between Andev and Igone. Then with a nod and a little nudge from the Kongr, the family walked forward together until they stood close enough for Lyssia's father to reach out his hand in a welcoming clasp.

Lyssia waited for her father to do just that. To break the silence and greet their guests. One minute passed, then two. She saw a brief look of worry pass over the Andev's features before he smoothed it away. Still, no one moved. No one spoke.

She peeked sideways at her father. He was smiling politely at Andev, but his eyes were glossed over with panic. Lyssia felt like time had stretched so thin that it stopped working. Was she the only one aware of it? What was she to do? She didn't know what welcoming words were correct to bestow upon royal guests.

And then, a miracle occurred. Time snapped back into place. Kongr Andev reached across his son's head and clasped her father's forearm. "Dizean, my friend. It is good to meet you at last."

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

He came to life with a little shake of his head and returned the gesture. "Andev! I can not tell you how happy I am to welcome you and your family here today. Igone…"

Releasing Andev's arm, he leaned forward to take the Drottingr's hand and pressed his lips against the back of her hand. "May I offer you, my friends, your first blessing today. May the sun light all your days and the moon your nights, and may the stars always guide you home."

Lyssia recognized the blessing. She had heard him practicing it on the way from the stead that morning.

"Thank you," Igone said, dazzling him with her smile so that he stood leaning over her hand for a beat too long. Andev had to stretch his arm over their interlocked hands to reach for Lyssia. She slowly placed her hand in his, hesitant to touch a stranger, but she barely felt his lips tap her knuckles before he released her.

"And to our young hostess, I say, 'vas heill.' And may you grow as tall and strong as a sunflower…"

"...nourished by the rain and reaching ever higher toward the blue sky." Igone finished the blessing, her disarming smile now turned on Lyssia.

"Th-thank you," Lyssia stammered, taking a step back and dipping into a curtsy.

Andev chuckled, the deep sound reaching her ears like rain slapping against rocks, and spread his arms wide to indicate the three children standing before him.

"I have brought along my heirs and children to meet you today. My daughters, Linea and Murel"---the twin girls curtsied together, two perfectly synchronized bobs, their gazes flashing up to meet Lyssia’s for one brief second before returning to the ground---"and my sons, Ansev and Sundric."

Ansev scowled at Lyssia as he bowed, but Sundric, sitting contentedly on Igone's hip, continued to stare vacantly at the distant trees and chew on his hard fruit.

Dizean asked how their journey had been, and Andev eagerly turned away from the others to reply. As soon as their father’s attention was diverted, both of the girls relaxed, leaning in toward one another until their shoulders touched. The girl standing on the right grabbed her sister's hand and whispered something in her ear. The other girl glanced up at Lyssia again and giggled.

Lyssia frowned. What had she done that was worth laughing at? Was it her appearance? She reached up to tug the end of her braid.

Igone laid her free hand on her giggling daughter's shoulders. "All right now. All right. That's enough. It's time to present our gifts. Murel, you first."

"Yes, Mam," Murel replied, turning to wave forward one of the Listorian guards.

"Gifts? I didn't…I didn't bring any gifts." Lyssia ducked her head to hide from the girls' curious gazes.

"You don't need gifts. You’re the hostess. We give gifts to you,” Murel blurted and immediately looked regretful.

Lyssia saw the way Murel wrung her hands together and how her cheeks grew warm though she held her ground and her gaze steady, and she smiled. "Of course. How silly of me."

Murel straightened with a grateful sigh. Her sister rocked forward on her toes, arms extending back like she was about to flap a pair of wings and leap into the conversation. Lyssia leaned forward as well, curious to hear if her voice matched her twin's.

"Murel…the gifts…" Igone said before Linea could speak.

"The gifts," Murel agreed, bobbing a curtsy to her mother before turning her back on them and taking a wrapped rectangular package from the man who had come forward.

"Thank you, Giall."

"Drottinge…." The man bent his head over his hands, which still held two items. Linea grabbed hold of another wrapped object. This one was oblong with a rounded corner on one end. The third item - a darkwood box - remained untouched as the sisters turned back to Lyssia.

Linea rocked back on her heels and gave a little bounce. "Can I go first, please? Please, sister dearest?"

Their brother rolled his eyes, but Murel just tucked her chin and stepped back without complaint.

"This is for you. Thank you for hosting us."

Lyssia was surprised by the weight of the oblong object wrapped in soft animal skin. Lyssia removed the skin, letting it drop to the floor, and gave a long appreciative, "Oooooh".

Linea had given her a beautiful silver hand mirror. Given its weight, she had no trouble believing that it was real silver. Tiny red and yellow gems circled the mirror’s rounded edge and the smooth handle.

There was no mirror in Lyssia's room. She assumed that her mother had owned a mirror, but she had never known need for one. Still, it was quite possibly the most beautiful gift she had ever received.

Murel unwrapped her gift before handing it to Lyssia. The book was also quite heavy, and the binding was stitched cloth instead of leather. The soft cover was a rich, deep blue that made her want to cry.

Lyssia ran a gentle finger down the book’s spine before opening the cover and reading the title scrawled on the first page. "The Laikari of Master Sorek, Laikisr of Listorian History. Laikari...that’s like...Lays?”

“Lays?” Murel asked, passing an anxious glance to her sister, who shrugged.

“Songs," Lyssia said, and then added when she saw their confused faces, "Sung history."

"Laikari aren't sung. You have a speaker and actors...silent performers...who act out the history being narrated. Sometimes there is music...sometimes not…"

Lyssia nodded thoughtfully as she flipped through the first few pages. She didn't know whose hand the book was written in. It could have been Murel herself or some long passed stranger. But whoever had filled these pages had written with a precise, dedicated hand.

Lyssia positioned the book over her heart, pressed the mirror on top of it, and met each of the girl's gazes in turn. "Thank you very much for your generous gifts. I love them."

"Ansev…" Igone had shifted to stand behind him. She gave him a tiny push forward, stepping back when her younger son kicked at his brother's shoulder. Ansev grabbed the box out of Giall's hands, shuffled forward, and tried to thrust it into Lyssia’s arms.

“Oh...I...Uh…” She juggled the book and mirror between her hands, trying to gain a hand free to grab the box, but it was clear that she couldn’t hold anything more. “Could you please put it…” She nodded to the ground.

Ansev sighed dramatically as he bent to place the box at her feet. He paused and tipped his head back to look at her, and Lyssia got the feeling that he was trying to peer straight through her mask. "Thank you," she murmured, turning her attention on the darkwood box, and he stood and went to stand behind his mother.

There was nothing for it. Lyssia would have to crouch down on her heels to open the box. She placed the book and mirror carefully on the ground and fumbled with the box’s latch. It was empty. Her eyes raked across the cloth lining, but there was nothing there. The box was empty. She ran a hand around the inside edge, hoping that she wouldn’t have to pronounce whatever gift it was meant to hold missing.

She glanced anxiously at the ground around the box, and her eyes snagged on the book. The blue cloth lining of the box matched the book’s binding. Someone had painted a bulbous yellow tree on the underside of the box’s lid. The tree’s leaves were filled with the same red jewels that adorned the mirror. The book, the mirror, and the box - they were a matching set.

Without pausing to wonder if they would fit, Lyssia placed the book and mirror inside the box, closed the metal latch, and picked the box up. She tripped on the edge of her dress as she tried to stand and almost landed back on the ground on her knees, but the twins jumped forward and grabbed her arms.

They held on as she found her balance. A chorus of “sorry, sorry, sorry,” passed between them until they were reduced to giggles. Murel took the box while Lyssia brushed her skirts off and then passed it back to her, but she kept her hand pressed on the underside of the box until she was sure Lyssia had it.

“Are you quite alright, dear?” Igone asked.

“Quite alright. Thank yooooh…” The breath whooshed out of Lyssia’s lungs all at once as the metallic creature’s head lifted off Igone’s shoulder and turned its emerald eyes on Lyssia. The Drottingr ran a hand over the top of its head, flattening its crown of golden feathers, and trailed a finger beneath its chin. It made a soft sound, nudging Igone's fingers with its delicate nose.

It began stretching one appendage out at a time like it was waking up from a dream - first one leg, then another, and another, and another, then its tail, which had been wrapped around Igone’s neck, and finally ---

"Wings…"