Rhene had dubbed the gull perching at her window each morning Oka. Oka was perhaps one bird, perhaps several. Rhene assumed it the same until two flocked to greet her one morning, and the mystery of the identity of her feathered visitor began from there. A few grapes carefully sliced into pieces were set in a small bowl and placed outside the balcony door. Oka, merely one of them today, hopped from the window to squawk approvingly at the offering. While cautiously wiggling free several pins binding the silk, a sudden wooden clatter meant the bird had attempted to make off with the bowl itself. Rhene peeked outside. The dish teetered near the edge of the southern railing. 

“I thought to disparage your mishap, but any attempt of mine to lift a bowl so proportionally large to my size would not fare any better,” Rhene spoke to the long-soaring bird. 

Numerous gulls rode the dewy morning breeze fresh with salty spray. She licked her lips. Her throat was dry. If her throat was dry, her skin would soon shrivel. Such was what her mother warned. A nostalgic bark of laughter made it past her lips recalling the morning she woke, bawling, in fear that her refusal to drink before bed ushered in certain wilted doom. Rhene resumed freeing her hair. She eyed her comb, but it wouldn’t be long before her mother’s footsteps— 

Someone approached the door. 

“Rhene.” The voice, higher than anticipated, whispered. Rhene whipped around to find Cilissa smirking while secreting herself into the room. “Mater is delayed. I want to do your hair instead.” 

“You know Mater will redo it regardless.” 

“She might not if I do it well enough. Pero has been helping me practice.” 

“Please go ahead.” 

Rhene took her seat before the vanity and bronze mirror. Bouncing on her heels, Cilissa snatched the comb, wet it with floral-scented spray, and separated the loosened curls only to work them back into the section bound to be, well, bound. 

“I wonder what going about the day with hair utterly free would feel like,” Rhene mused. 

“Nice for a time, I imagine. Then the sea wind and mist would tangle it something awful.” 

“That is true. I should like to try it once though.” 

“When you get married.” 

“When I get married...” Rhene repeated. 

Cilissa continued the work. The difference in skill and confidence stung tangibly, for several twinges on Rhene’s scalp signaled one of her mother’s worst fears—torn hair strands. Rhene, however, didn’t care to halt her sister and breathed deeper the surf-scented wind from the release of repetition. Surely, if Cilissa finished fast enough, their mother wouldn’t waste time to craft her hair all over again. Right? 

“I hope you don’t marry,” Cilissa abruptly mumbled. Rhene’s mouth opened, but the dryness in her throat intensified to trap her sounds. Cilissa’s shaking fingers dropped numerous strands. “No, I—I want you to marry. You should be married already. That Mater agreed to an arrangement for Maia first...” 

“Why do you hope I don’t marry?” Rhene nudged. 

“I don’t want you to go,” Cilissa pouted. “I miss Maia. With how busy Pater and Perdix have become, we’ve barely been able to leave the house recently. I’d be terribly lonely if you left too.” 

“Mater won’t permit me a husband who won’t let me see her often. I fear she might even dare leave the house unescorted to visit me if we were separated more than a few days.” 

“That...” Cilissa’s eyes widened, and she laughed. “Mater might truly do that. I’m sure with Pater’s influence she could get away with it too.” Cilissa hushed her words. “Imagine being a poorer woman and leaving the house every day.” 

“Imagine being a poorer woman,” Rhene commanded, brow raised. 

“I don’t want to.” 

“Then don’t speak so haughtily.” 

“Yes...” Cilissa’s cheeks puffed. 

The door opened. Rhene wished for Pero or one of the other slave girls, but none would dare enter without permission. Rhene and Cilissa cringed from their mother’s tightening stare and folded arms. The two of them received chastisement, Cilissa’s efforts went to waste, and the natural state of Rhene’s hair she rarely saw went up in those tight, perfect coils once more. Breakfast eased the sourness of the rebuke, and the three spent the better part of the morning weaving and surveying the recent batch of food the slaves purchased from the market. While their mother was distracted, Rhene and Cilissa distributed a fist-sized wrap of sweet bread to each. 

Afternoon provided free time. The sisters crossed the atrium seeking their desired destinations, but they didn't walk half the painstakingly decorated area centered around a grand fountain before Rhene's throat locked and heart ceased to be. Hooves upon stone. The faint sound, near imperceptible, grew and grew until its crescendo completed before the gated entrance of the estate. Rhene clasped her hands. Cilissa took several steps forward.

The gate swung open, and two familiar figures entered. With a quick glance past them, Rhene spotted horses being led away by subordinates. 

“Pater!” Cilissa earned the honor of first embrace, brushing Rhene’s arm in her rejoicing bolt for affection. Their father scooped his youngest into a fierce embrace with a build admirably large to lift her with all the strain one might lift an empty sack. His naturally tight curls of deepest fire—sometimes cooling brown, sometimes shining with purple—glowed now with blazing orange in the high noon sun. Cilissa kissed his forehead, bronzed to perfection, before her sandals touched down. “We have missed you! Did everything go well?” 

“We shall all talk, Lissa. There is someone behind you too though,” his chuckle rumbled deep and power yet with clear, lilting enunciation. Though their father searched Rhene out, the striding forward of the second figure blocked her from him as Perdix captured her in an embrace. 

“Little lamb, you are still here,” Perdix teased. His hair of same fiery hue though with looser curls tickled her cheek. Rhene inhaled deeply the comforting scent of musk, market, and spice. Although only two years older than her, Perdix’s blue eyes gleamed with experience and confidence far from anything that might show in hers. 

“Where else would I be?” 

“Didn’t I teach you how to climb the tree by the wall once?” 

“Perdix!” On cue, their mother’s exasperated shout stepped the siblings away from each other. Rhene’s father moved to claim her in a side embrace as they watched Perdix cheerfully place himself before his mother as she descended from the upper walkway. “You taught your sister how to do what?” 

“I taught my sisters to climb a tree.” Perdix cheekily smiled wider. 

“I knew that wouldn’t take long,” her father joked in her ear. Cilissa leaned close to catch it and giggle. “Let’s leave them to it and find some shade.” 

The three of them retreated to the dining area. Rhene's smile proved unending as her father, Cilissa, and she relished the lively breeze curling through the room and popped plump grapes in their mouths. Even so, the rushing euphoria of reunion eased only to leave a quiet simmer of disappointment. Of course Rhene was glad to see her father and brother home. Why then, did her glances fall time and time again towards the direction of the street? Perdix’s unflinching defense against their mother ended in a ceasefire seeing the two joining the lunch. Rhene watched her father and mother embrace and cast off the longing twist in her chest. 

“The escort went well?” Cilissa tried again. 

“Well enough to be called perfect,” their father quipped before taking a large draft of wine poured for him. “The lords are safe in Eurysippus, and the goods are safely here. King Tanthus should call us for report tomorrow.” 

“If you’re busy tomorrow, can we go see Maia today?” 

“Cilissa, do not burden your father and brother so when they have only returned. Give them a few days to rest,” their mother tutted. 

“I have energy aplenty to spare,” Perdix, muscled arm raised high, volunteered. “I also wish to see the little one dear Maiandria worked so hard to see safely with us.” 

“Take your sisters then,” their father nodded. “Phaia, I apologize, but I have some matters I wish to discuss with you.” 

“It is no worry. Maia will be invigorated enough to see these three.” 

“I hope your matters are not of the dreary kind,” Rhene said. 

“They are important, but not dreary. Speaking on them, I suppose...” he eyed each of them, but a flicker of understanding was shared with Perdix. “Rhene, do you remember the man you once painted? The one who you claimed came to you in a dream vivid enough to make you believe we were the illusion?” 

“Ah, yes? It has been some years, but I do remember.” 

“He had hair dark as night with eyes bright as emeralds. You said you would accept no husband except one such as he.” 

“Pelagon!” Her mother’s hands fell with a smack upon the table. 

“We met a man with those traits on our return. Leocedes is his name,” Rhene’s father ignored her. “He is well-bred, well-mannered, and well-inherited with skills vouched for by Lord Agrus. Leocedes lived in Dianesa until his recent relocation here. A widow, he lost his wife to disease. They had not been married long and had no children.” 

“We talked of you highly, and he was most charmed. I promised to show him one of your paintings,” Perdix winked. 

“Pelagon!” Her mother’s hands slammed harder. “I will not hear more of this!” 

“Phaia,” her father’s tone stiffened. “Rhene will see her twentieth year in the spring. I have respected your wish to not see her married yet, but for years now others have talked of what must be wrong with her to see her held back. No one will take her if we delay much longer. She needs to take her own house.” 

Her mother leapt to her feet. “This is her house! It does not matter what others think! You will not take her from me! Rhene does not need a husband, for we will keep providing for her! When we are old and pass, Perdix and his future sons will provide for her! Won’t you?!” 

“I...will always see that Rhene is kept safe, no matter the situation,” Perdix relented under her fury. 

“See!? Besides, you’d give her away to a man who couldn’t keep his previous wife alive?! How am I to trust him?!” 

“Phaia...” Her father’s determination rapidly crumbled into a pleading sigh. 

“I won’t accept this, Pelagon!” 

“Peace,” he held his hands up. “I hear you, my love. We...will discuss in more detail your concerns, and I will see that your wishes are honored best as I can—as I’ve always done.” 

Her mother fumed. Appetite lost, Rhene was glad for the next words out of her lips. 

“The three of you should go ahead and visit Maia. I’m sure she’ll provide what more food you need for your meal.” 

“Yes, Mater,” Perdix dipped his head. “Come, Rhene, Lissa.” 

Cilissa snatched Rhene’s hand as the siblings fled into the atrium. Perdix doubled the weight of their father’s sigh, but he quickly found his typical reassuring smile. 

“Ignore that for now. We’ll go see Maia and feel glad.” 

“Yes,” Rhene replied. 

Perdix brought them to the gate, opened it, and guided them through the walls for the first time in two weeks.