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A tiny being and yet part of him. Almost
fearfully, he extended a forefinger, touching the
fragile cheek, terrified at how small it was in
comparison to his huge hand. The child stirred, and
his hand jerked back. Renea laughed quietly at his
fears, but his rapt attention was totally upon this
fascinating being.
The baby yawned, and one fist waved uncertainly
in the air. A small wing fluttered in response before
lying limply on the blankets once more.
Rylis looked at Renea, and she stretched out a
hand to lie upon his cheek.
His wings will be the shade of yours, I think.
Golden with copper tints. It is hard to tell this young.
They might change.
He nodded helplessly, then reached out a hand to
Renea, taking her slender fingers in his. Thank you,
he whispered, and then and only then did the tears
fall.
A tiny part of him, deep within, wished that
Tamrin could have seen this marvelous little being.
He thrust the thought away, for it betrayed his wife
and Tamrin both.
* * *
Papa!
Rylis swore as his quill smeared ink across the
papers he was working on. He sighed at his ruined
work, then frowned at the small intruder. Warin,
how many times have I told you to knock before you
come in?
The boy shrank under his annoyed gaze. Sorry,
Papa, he whispered, wings drooping now.
Rylis laid down the quill and rose, trying to chase
away the stress that made him short in temper. This
was his son and worthy of his time, his effort, and his
love.
He swept him up in his arms, surprising a squeak
out of Warin as small wings fluttered madly in
response. Now, what was so important, my boy?
Warin snuggled closer, obviously realizing his
father had forgiven him, but then, he always did.
Grannian showed me the War Room, Papa, and I
saw our kingdom and Teeathun. Is that where Tamrin
is from?
Rylis drew in a sharp breath. From the time of
Warin s birth, he had told the young one tales of the
Eths, their world as he had seen it, the beauty of those
he had met and the kind and gentle nature of
Tamrin. It was all he could do to keep the image of his
love alive. Sometimes it seemed that Tamrin was
fading away, his image no longer clear, the love he
had offered nothing but a faint impression of a long
ago blessing. Therefore, Rylis strove to preserve it in
whatever fashion he could.
Renea understood. She had understood from the
beginning when Rylis had offered for her hand in
marriage. He had had no idea how to deal with a
woman and so had been forthright in his words,
letting her know he had nothing to offer in the way of
love. She had been appreciative of his honesty, rather
than insulted as so many others would have been. His
choice could not have been better.
They were friends. So much better than love, with
its attending pain. There was nothing Rylis could not
tell her or vice versa. It was a relationship precious to
him, perhaps the only thing that had kept him sane.
She made the ache in his heart bearable because she
forced him to speak of it, not hide it deep within.
She was the one who had asked of Tamrin,
wanted to know all the details, and had accepted
what he meant to Rylis. Rylis could not imagine
another woman who could have dealt with this with
such aplomb.
So he spoke of his love, in time confessing each
sin he had committed against the Eth. He expected
her to hate him then, as he hated himself, but she
seemed to believe he had changed, that he had
learned from the experience. He himself was not so
certain. What if that monster within him rose again, to
harm Renea or his precious son?
She was quietly insistent that it would not.
He wished he had her faith in himself.
Now he cleared his throat, feeling Warin s small
hand upon his cheek, drawing him back from
reflection.
Can you show me, Papa? Can you show me
where Tamrin is?
Rylis nodded, unable to speak, forcing a smile for
his son s comfort. They passed along the ornate
corridors, people bowing and smiling as they passed.
His country seemed happy enough with him, seemed
to accept his kingship as something positive. If only
they truly knew what their king was.
He shook off the morbid thoughts with
determination. He had to stop living in the past. This
was his world now, and his people, his family,
deserved his complete attention. It was time to move
on, disperse the ghosts of his past in order to be what
others wanted of him.
The past was nothing but shadows now.
They reached the War Room and opened its great
doors, leaving them open to invite in a breeze. It was
hot in the room, unused as it was now. Occasionally
there were meetings in here to use the great, three-
dimensional map of the kingdom to illustrate a point
or get a proper perspective of scale but other than
that, it now had no use. Not in a time of peace.
Warin wiggled to get down, then skipped across
the marble floor, his wings wide and high with
excitement. He pulled up a stool that Grannian had
obviously brought for his use and knelt upon it, his
blue eyes bright with interest as he pointed at the
realistic expanse of forest representing Teeathun.
Is that truly what it looks like, Papa?
Rylis approached slowly, eyes fixed on the scale
model. He let his fingers brush over the wooden tips
of the trees before looking down at his son. The
forest has grown a little since then, but for the most
part, yes, this is how it looks. There was no way to
describe the beauty and terror of that forest to anyone
who had not seen it, experienced it. Let his son see it
as beautiful fantasy. The truth was far too difficult to
ever reveal.
Warin slipped from the stool and walked slowly
around the vast map, barely able to see over the edge.
His little face was lit with inner thought, and Rylis
could not help but smile softly. His son was subject to
flights of fancy more grand than Rylis himself had
ever conjured as a child, his mind swift and able to
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