“Because I had a dagger.”
“A knight wouldn’t have been afraid of you with a dagger.” His lips curled upward. “I’m sure you were absolutely terrifying though.”
I laughed, but soon that smile faded too.
“I left my sister, Ashlyn. She didn’t deserve me abandoning her. I didn’t even say good-bye the day I left.”
“Does she know you’re half-fae?”
“I’m sure she does now.”
“If she loved you then, she loves you still,” he spoke with such certainty.
“How could you possibly know that?” I asked.
“Anyone who truly knows you…understands you. They have to see what I do.”
“And what’s that?” I squinted as a glimmer of sunlight caught in my eyes.
“There is a strength inside you that can’t be stifled—that couldn’t be contained in Bailoc—or in the Vale,” he whispered as he drew closer. “It’s in your very name—Ay-leer-uh.”
“I like the way you say it—like it means something.”
“It means everything,” he whispered. “It means resilience.”
I had never known my name meant anything at all. Never knew how beautiful it could sound until I stumbled into Lythira—until Lioran spoke it for the first time. He’d heard it before, but I hadn’t thought about what that meant.
“King Ardyn wouldn’t know it though…Because he didn’t name you.”
“What makes you say that?” I asked.
“A king who hates the fae wouldn’t knowingly name his daughter a fae name.” He chuckled.
“My mother…” I clutched the gemstone with my free hand. “Myfather…they chose my name,” I exhaled, releasing the stone.
My name was fae. I was fae. It was a piece of my story that had been silent. Now that I knew it—I felt a little more whole.
The quiver strap slipped off easily. My boots held it in place as it landed in the dirt. A lean arrow twisted effortlessly between my fingertips. Both the bow and arrow were longer than I was used to.
“Do you practice?” I asked as I gripped the bow firmly in my hand. My fingers settled on the string as I steadied the shaft of the arrow in place.
“No, I have no love for archery, but I am curious to see how you handle it.”
“Well, do not judge me too harshly. It’s been a while since I’ve practiced.”
He chuckled as I focused on the target.
My fingers released the bowstring. The arrow lodged itself into the outer rim of the target. I wasn’t sure if I would make it at all. His eyes narrowed as the sunlight washed over his face, embracing every angle of his face that I loved. His silver eyes dazzled even when he was squinting.
“I should have given you a bow much sooner,” he whispered.
I set the bow down beside me. “And why is that?”
“You’re glowing. You’re doing something you love, and it brings you to life.”
“I thought all fae glowed.” I giggled.
“Not like you do.”
