A Court of Wings and Fate

13. Breaking The Ice

    "Then what happened?"

    "She mostly tried to avoid me and I kept trying to find her. We trained together one more time after I told her there was a move she'd done that I wanted to learn. She agreed to show me how to do it, mostly because she'd get to hit me in the process. We didn't argue though, so I'd consider that some progress."

    Thesan nodded approvingly. "Do you have a plan for befriending her?"

    Mikael shrugged. "I'm more or less just going to annoy her into liking me."

    Thesan threw his head back with a laugh. "Let me know how that works out. I'm curious to see if you'll be successful."

    They reached a familiar hallway and Mikael entered his room. He grabbed a sheathed dagger and buckled it at his hips. He paused beside his desk and picked up the portrait of his mother. Briefly, Mikael recalled his father's words.

    I want you to be proud of who you are, and where you came from.

    "Do the people know who my mother was?" Mikael asked.

    "Some might. Those who knew her. Many of the Peregryns did. Why?"

    "I was just thinking that the people might be more willing to accept me if they also knew where I came from. They should know who Mother was. It might help them see who I am."

    "What did you have in mind?" Thesan touched a hand to his shoulder, eyeing the portrait as well.

    "Can we have someone replicate this but on a larger canvas, like our portraits in the Great Hall?"

    A bright grin spread across Thesan's lips and he nodded. "Of course. I'll have someone get started on that while you're in Windhaven."

    "Thank you, Father." Mikael hugged him tightly. "I should get going. We'll be leaving for Windhaven soon."

    "Be sure to write while you're there," Thesan called. "Two paged letters at least!"

    Mikael laughed as he stepped onto a veranda and spread his wings. He leaped into the air, letting the warm currents carry him back to the Peregryn training grounds.

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    "I can't wait to see what Windhaven will be like," Celeste gushed, hurriedly stuffing clothes into a satchel. "Are the mountains cold or warm like ours? What are the huts like? How long will we be training? Are there any handsome males?"

    "You'll see soon enough," Estelle giggled.

    Celeste gasped, suddenly. "Do you think we could get Illyrian leathers like yours? I've been dying for a pair ever since you arrived."

    "That could be arranged. My Aunt Emerie owns a clothier shop in Windhaven. She's usually there a few hours a day, after training with Aunt Nesta and Gwyn at the House of Wind."

    "You have a lot of aunts," Sienna remarked. "How many have you mentioned now? Feyre, Nesta, Elain, Mor, and Emerie?"

    Estelle nodded. "They're not actually my aunts. Nesta and Feyre's mates, my uncles, Rhys and Cassian, are like my father's brothers. I've always called them my aunts and uncles." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "There's also Amren, but I've never called her my aunt. She lives in the Summer Court now, with Prince Varian. Oh, and my Aunt Jorah. You'll meet her in Windhaven. Her mate, Devlon, is the Warlord there. They'll oversee our training."

    "You mentioned you have a grandmother as well?" Celeste asked. "Where is she?"

    "She owns a bakery in Velaris."