Perdix lifted his right arm, and Rhene instinctively wrapped her left around it. Cilissa stuck close to his other side but blatantly ignored the offering of his hand. Perdix let her be. 

“The air is wonderful today!” Cilissa swelled her lungs. 

“We have moved all of ten paces from the gate,” Perdix tilted his head, bemusedly grinning. “The air is the same.” 

“It is not.” 

“I’m...certain it is.” 

“You don’t understand.” 

“I suppose I do not. It is just as well. Please, enjoy your air.” 

Rhene giggled. She understood her sister. The persistent, numbing fuzz that clung to her like a wet woolen cloak vanished in an instant upon earning a spot on the tree-lined street. Each arborous decoration twisted and stretched its branches as if clay molded by wayward winds while sun-stuffed leaves brushed with near-woodwind chime. Patches of dancing shade guided their feet west, further ushered by tall walls of white for the luxurious oikoi within. 

They passed Nerine’s father’s house as well. Rhene once dared to sneak through the gate, bolt down the road, and slip within their property. She and her friend played for hours—until Rhene’s mother noticed her absence. The excuse of no one seeing her on the briefest of brief jaunts hadn’t provided the shielding Rhene expected. After a period of isolation as punishment, Rhene saw her friend only when escorted as normal. Sadly, she and Nerine hadn’t seen each other at all in five years. Nerine married, and her marriage took her from Irideska. There’d been two sons born, last Rhene heard. 

“Perdix, may we go to the sea?” Cilissa implored, lashes blinking fast. 

“Have you not gone?” 

“Pappous became busy the past two months. He took us to see Maia right before she had the baby, but it has merely been Mater’s friends coming to visit us. Mater’s brothers have otherwise come to check on us. They have not thought it necessary to take us to the sea.” 

“I do not mind escorting you, but they are men dedicated to their causes in other matters. A leisurely venture to the sea cannot come first. I will see to it though that we find an agreeable date.” 

“Thank you, Perdix,” Rhene squeezed his arm. “You are generous.” 

“I am happy to see you happy,” he beamed. 

They turned their first corner where several slaves going about their errands dodged to the side. The southern quarter of the hilltop did not technically disallow the public to wander its roads. However, private mercenaries hired as guards impressed a presence of privacy that few commonfolk braved testing. The lack of commonfolk clustering the way permitted a smooth walk. Rhene, however, didn’t mind the flow of people, bursts of colors, tumbling medley of scents, and unique sights of the lower quarters, no matter how much her mother called it all boorish. 

Two streets to go with a mere three streets behind them, the rounding of another corner thrust before them the well-tamed bushy face of only Irideska’s most renowned, and since retired, epihipparch—commander of 1,000 cavalry. 

“Commander Loxius.” 

Rhene shifted a step behind her brother—Cilissa copying—when Perdix snapped to authoritative greeting. As Commander Loxius smiled in return, Rhene’s lowered gaze quietly caught the notches of skin peeking out from his salted facial hair. Scars won from spears narrowly avoided, the commander claimed. Rhene had always wanted to point out that the scars meant the spears weren’t avoided, but she kept her tongue still as normal. 

“Young Perdix,” Commander Loxius clapped his shoulder. Though retired, his light brown skin still darkened further by the summer meant he’d become no idle pappous. “Back already?” 

“I have been gone several months.” 

“Ah, time flows differently since my days in the military ended. Irideska is glad to see you returned regardless. I see you are escorting your sisters. The oldest and youngest, if I recall?” 

“Your knowledge is correct. We go to visit my middle sister and her husband’s new child.” 

“The middle one did get married, didn’t she?” Commander Loxius rubbed his beard, and Rhene’s stare fully dropped to her toes when his brown eyes, now calculating, fell upon her. “Has she married yet?” 

“Pater and I met a man on our return we think will make an excellent pair with her. Expect to hear good news soon,” Perdix squared his shoulders. 

“I shall. Nineteen summers is a worrying age for a woman to be unmarried. Should your man prove lacking, I do have a grandson who will need a wife soon. His inheritance isn’t the most robust, but he is proving himself within the navy ranks. I suspect he will provide quite well for himself.” 

“Thank you. I will take your words to Pater. We always welcome you to our home as well.” 

“I will find time to drop by soon. For now, I must take my leave. Farewell, Perdix.” 

“Of course. World-Binder guide you, Commander.” 

With a brisk hand wave, Commander Loxius resumed his path. Rhene returned her arm to her brother’s so they could resume theirs. Cilissa puckered her lips. 

“Is it truly so terrible to be unmarried at nineteen? There’s nothing wrong with Rhene.” 

“Rhene is fine, naturally,” Perdix comforted. “One cannot blame others for feeling concerned when they do not know how greatly Pater delaying her marriage comes from Mater’s desire to keep her safe.” 

“I am not worried,” Rhene mustered a smile. “I am merely more excited with each step to see Maia.” 

Thankfully, they soon arrived at the gate of the house where her sister now lived. Its position nestled further down the western slope allowed one to see the poorer portions of Irideska through hard squinting, yet, as expected, her father had given Maia a marriage that remained high above that in both status and elevation. Perdix conversed with the workers of the house, and their collection was permitted inside. The house of two floors sat like so many beside it with a welcoming atrium serving as the roots for several splitting paths and stairways. Rhene brushed her fingers upon velvety petals of the lush flower bushes sweetening the air and painting the garden a gradient of pastel hues. 

They followed one of the workers to the second-floor women’s quarters where a quick conversation through the door saw them through the threshold of the lounge room where Maia sat. Rhene’s eyes misted at her one brief glance of a swaddled bundle with a hearty helping of hair before Perdix and his large frame blocked her view. 

“Dear Maiandria,” he gushed, embracing her grandly though carefully. Soft coos lessened his clear worry of accidentally awakening the babe. “What joy your bright eyes and rosy cheeks bring me.” 

Rhene and Cilissa crept aside their brother. Maia laughed her melodic laugh that never failed to warm Rhene’s chest and stole a glance their way. Indeed—Maia's gray eyes sparkled like sun through silver clouds while her complexion of pink tint tickled Rhene’s own cheeks with delight. Perdix hurriedly moved away to permit Rhene to throw her arms around her sister. 

“We received word from Aberkios that you’d recovered well, but it is heartening to see it for myself. That you’d....you’d,” Rhene’s tongue dried, not wanting to say it directly, “come so close while bringing this little one into the world was a right terror keeping the nights long.” 

“I don’t remember much of that day myself,” Maia nuzzled her cheek upon Rhene’s, “though the pain afterwards is something I will never forget. I am sorry for worrying you.” 

“Don’t,” Rhene insisted. 

Squeezing Maia closer, the giddiest of grins to grace her lips split her face from merely glancing down. Waves of oak brown put Maia’s hair, inherited from her father’s mother, as the oddity in their household. Although, that wasn’t true in her sister’s new household. Floppy curls of same soothing earthen hue filled the head of the month-and-a-half babe staring up at her with eyes pressed into crescent moons by the chub of his cheeks. Maia shifted him into her arms. Rhene’s tears were instant. 

“Little...Amiantos?” 

“That is correct,” Maia confirmed proudly. 

“Little Amiantos, how sweet you are. It is good you are that way after all the trouble you made at the start.” 

“He looks more like me, although Aberkios’s mater insists differently,” Maia rolled her eyes. “His personality is Aberkios’s though—affectionate, curious, and quiet.” 

Cilissa, who’d stood over them to view her nephew, strode about the room. “Speaking of affectionate, Aberkios continues his daily doting of you, doesn’t he? You’ll run out of space before long.” 

Shelves and the tops of every flat surface held trinkets of glistening shine, cloth of endless shades, or carvings lifelike enough to make Rhene think a mouse hid on the corner of a low table. It was a wooden figure of a red squirrel tucked a little further in the shadows. 

“His mater complains about that too, saying he is spoiling me. Aberkios does continue buying such things regardless, for he says he can’t help it,” Maia beamed. 

Perdix and Cilissa explored the room, remarking at the presents. Rhene brought Amiantos closer to her heart and blinked faster to clear her eyes. Him clutching her finger made it more difficult. However, several falling tears became those of bittersweetness. Here she sat by her sister, but it was not the way they sat together as they had for so many years. Maia, halfway through her fifteenth year, was the lady of her own home. The mother to a strong son. Her kindness stayed the same, yet Rhene couldn’t dismiss Maia’s wider hips, more pronounced breasts, straighter back, confidently held chin, and wiser stare. The last locked on to those changed tears. 

“Has Pater and Perdix returning brought you any hope?” Maia whispered, touching her back. 

“They say they have found a good match for me in this man named Leocedes, but Mater...” 

“Mater loves you, but it is time for that love to cease in holding you back. I should not have been the one to marry first, and it is clear your heart is bleeding for a child of your own.” Maia smirked kindly when reaching for Amiantos instinctively curled Rhene’s hold on him tighter. Maia withdrew. “If you want to marry this Leocedes, or any other man, tell her so. Don’t back down anymore. Pater is the one who determines your wish’s fulfillment, not her.” 

“I...will try,” Rhene contemplated. “It is difficult to say no to her.” 

“You are the spoiled one, not me,” Maia laughed. 

How wonderful that laughter continued to be. Two hours they spent with Maia and Amiantos, and Aberkios welcoming them with open arms upon his return from work filled the last third with heightened cheer. Standard training with the sword swelled enough muscle on the bone, but Maia’s husband was an artist highly skilled in numerous trades—hence his endless requests for teaching—that leaned his frame and softened his aura. Rhene thought that she would very much enjoy a husband like him. 

“Oh!” she whispered one more remark to Maia before their departure. “I saw a falling star last night. It danced upon my fingertip I held to the sky. Perhaps it is a sign that there is change to come.” 

“Rhene...” Maia’s brow crinkled with chastising concern. “Falling stars are bad luck. That one touched you means any change that does come cannot be good. Please be careful.” 

“It was so beautiful though. It didn’t feel ominous at all.” 

“Be careful.” 

“Yes, yes,” Rhene pouted. 

Aberkios sending her off with a box of new paints put the immediate decision in her head to ignore her sister. Rhene carried it tightly in her right, put her left around Perdix’s once more, and sprung her heels with merry step as their walk home began. Cilissa couldn’t convince Perdix to extend the walk, but he did relent to having pig for dinner. More bodies filled the streets with men off their duties seeking home and pilgrims having come to Irideska for the temple to the north curiously exploring the surrounding scenery. Rhene hoped Leocedes might be one of the people passing by. How romantic if their first meeting turned out to— 

Women shrieked. Men shouted in surprise before shouting in fury. Before Rhene could glance back, Perdix snatched Cilissa’s upper arm to wrench them both with him in the half-circle he made to face the source of the disruption. They stumbled behind while his muscles veined with adrenaline to prepare for whatever might come their way. 

Something did come their way. Men drew swords and called for bows to fight it. There'd been a distant sound Rhene ignored. Clattering hooves, and it was no mere mount. Shock loosened her form, smashing the box of paints upon the stone, from the bizarre steed barreling onwards with all the might it possessed. It was a goat. A kri-kri, to be exact, native to the large island to the south. It had the distinctive tan hair with black markings and long, curved horns, but, strangely, no beard. 

Stranger still was its shape, more stag-like than standard, and its massive size with a back taller than any beastly horse that flooded the narrow road with shadows. A male rider, hulking in his own right, looked little more than a child upon it. Rhene didn’t have time to discern any further features. The kri-kri and the man ignored all the shouts, all the commotion, and all of the other people. The pair, however, with focused dedication, charged right towards them.