-Their first child would always be Evangeline. Always.

-That did not mean Lys was done with children yet.

-Multiple attempts at pregnancy, though passionate and satisfying, failed to put her with child. Eventually, a healer was consulted.

-Lysandra was infertile. The healer had no explaination for how or when or why, only that some women were and some weren’t and she was just not a part of the group of them she had wanted to be.

-Eventually, Lys made peace with the news, but not after much comfort from her friends and family. 

-They think all is back to normal until Lys spots a beggar boy in the streets and makes a mad dash at him.

-The boy is not just a boy, though. Lys knows this. They are a shape-shifter, like herself. She asks for their true form, if they remember. They shift into a the figure of an even younger looking boy, no older than four. She knew, of course, when she first spotted him what he was. Could smell him. “Come home with me,” she said. And that was that.

-Nika adjusted to life off the streets quite terribly, at first. Evageline was ecstatic about having a sibling. Aedion needed convincing that Lys wasn’t just plucking orphans off the streets. Lys was confident she made the right choice from the start, but was reassured when she caught Nika curled up in Eva’s lap, both sound asleep.

-Nika is not a full shifter and only changes into other human forms. When they turned nine, they explained to their new family that slipping from one skin to the next was as seamless and natural as slipping into a different coat every time. And thus, they felt as though they were neither boy nor girl, but both and neither at the same time. And though the family still refers to Nika as their son and brother, the male and gender neutral pronouns have been mixed together in equal frequency ever since.

-Clever as a fox and practically fearless, Nika is nothing like his elder sister, diving head first into whatever adventure is around the next corner with no concern for consequences or personal safety. 

-To those who don’t know Nika well, they can seem almost emotionless, even perhaps cruel. Nika’s face is always a “ten-layer mask,” Eva says. But there are just enough cracks for his family to see what’s truly on his mind. Lys can even take one look at them and know just how much trouble their into now.

-Although they love learning about shifting from their mother, Nika mostly wants to be a strong warrior and protector like their father. To be a soldier or a spy for their father is Nika’s dream.

-Nika also likes trailing Eva around and “protecting” her, too. Though, with how much trouble he gets into, the roles are often times reversed.

-The eldest of three. Aster Havilliard-Blackbeak

-The soft pale skins of his parents, his mother’s piercing golden gaze, and his father’s midnight black hair

-Tall and slender, and more a fan of books than sword fighting

-There were complications with his birth, leaving him with fragile health his first five years of life. He’s gotten stronger since, but has lingering weakness in his lungs and therefore, his parents worry about him over-exerting himself.

-The crown prince is quite and reserved, and sometimes unnervingly still. Some liken him to a ghost or a corpse, never letting on that he’s alive until he deems you worthy of interaction.

-Aster is incredibly smart, but not naturally so. He studies harder than anyone else. 

-He is also decidedly not a people person. Most of the company he finds himself in he deems too idiotic to waste much time or effort on.

-He is a hands-off older brother to the twins, but still would kill for them. Not die. Kill.

-Aster is heir to the Ardalan throne. Not the Wastes. Suits him fine.

-His mother still wanted him to have a wyvern. He rides a calm mare, small and fast and completely unremarkable looking save for the glint in her eye that says there’s more going on beneath her surface than you may know. Her name is 

-The twins should not have survived.

-Manon had thought her pregnancy strange, unlike Aster’s. Her pregnancy with her son had been difficult, but nothing like this.

-Dorian became panicked and called for Yrene. Chaol, too, but mostly Yrene.

-”It’s twins.”

-Manon did ask if one could be sacrificed for the other. She was told no, and not judged for her question. The Witch Queen was at the end of her rope and without the famed healer’s intervention and assessment, may not have survived her second pregnancy. Yrene made the choice to stay by her side until the birth. With her assistance, both babies were born healthy. And, after several months of strict recovery (Yrene could be more terrifying than any witch), the Queen recovered, as well.

-Twins Tessian and Soren Blackbeak-Havilliard were born minutes apart, in that order.

-Tessian, the female twin, would inherit her mother’s throne. Soren would serve as her second.

-The two were (and still are) inseparable. Where one is, so is the other, even if you don’t know it yet.

-Tes takes after her father in that she is every bit the charming diplomat Dorian always pretended to be. Neither parent knows where she gets it from. Black hair and golden eyes like her brother before her, coupled with a genuinely charming smile disarm her enemies before she ever even needs to reach for the steel always by her side.

-Soren is the spitting image of his mother, save for the blue eyes of his father. But his features are all Manon and to say he was (is) a mama’s boy would be accurate. Deadly, and foolish, but accurate. He is all her rough edges smoothed over only for his family. He feels no jealousy for the thrones his siblings will sit on, and much prefers the freedom he has, instead, using it to go on adventures and expeditions. But he still takes his duty to his people and his sister seriously, and won’t hesitate to use iron and steel to defend them all.

-The twins chose wyvern that were also siblings. For Tes, a beautiful beast, midnight black and a slender shape, meant for dexterity and speed, though carrying a temper that isn’t afraid of a fight despite being a mare. For Soren, the brother wyvern, black as well but bigger and beefier. Not as fast, but twice as strong and large, meant to be a shield and warrior, just like his rider.

Part One: The Invitation

The thing about being a prince is that everyone always seems to know where you are.

It is probably the most inconvenient part of Aster’s life, being watched and monitored like child pretending at almost-adulthood. And though his skills at sneaking about had, of course, grown exponentially through the years, it seemed as if for every step he took forward his personal guard took two.

Blythe was waiting for him around the corner. If he hadn’t come to expect this of her, he might’ve been spooked. Her deep brown skin and pitch black hair blended into the shadows of the castle hall beautifully. But the shine of her armor and the glint of her sword hilt had given her away to Aster in a heartbeat. As did her ancestral family crest, carved into the hairpiece she used to keep her braided hair tied up tight in a knot about her head. It was the only bit of Ellywe she insisted on carrying with her every day. Aster’s own crest- the royal crest- shone proudly from her breastplate. After the war, King Dorian had refashioned the Havilliard crest, from a wyvern poised to strike in battle to one in flight, carrying Damaris, the family sword, in one clawed foot, and a scarred shield in the other. “So the rest of the world knows that while we are willing to fight, and have in the past,” his father once explained, “we are always willing to defend those in need. We have a debt to pay to this continent, and it is up to us to see it paid in full.”

That was when Aster knew his father was a good king. It was also when Aster decided that he would be a great one.

“Your highness,” Blythe said, bowing at the waist, “how fortunate that I have caught you.”

Aster rolled his eyes and kept walking, Blythe falling seamlessly into step behind him. “My dearest Blythe, you have been on my tail since I left the library.” Indeed, the idea that Blythe of all people had simply “caught up to him,” as if she hadn’t been in his shadow the entire duration of his foray into this wing of the castle, was laughable. “What am I late for now?”

A twinkle in the guard’s eyes was the only hint of amusement on her stony visage. “A letter, Your Highness.” Pulling the scroll from her pocket, she handed it to Aster. The seal had not been broken yet, meaning it was a personal missive. And the seal...

“When did this arrive?” He questioned, breaking into the scroll immediately.

Blythe let a sly smirk through at that. “Not two hours ago. If you’d been in your room, as you were supposed to be...” She let the sentence trail off, raising a surprisingly delicate eyebrow instead to make her point. Aster sighed but said nothing in return. He quickened his pace, letting muscle memory take over as he raced for rooms.

The note was sealed shut with the royal crest of Terrason’s ruling family. And since he was quite confident the Queen would not be the one sending him letters, the likeliest choice would be-

“You got one, too?” 

Aster started, just pivoting his steps in time to avoid mowing down his younger sister. Tess stood directly in his path, a confident hand on her hip as she held a very similar looking bit of parchment in the other. Behind her, Soren stood, as well, his scroll wrapped up neatly once more and held lazily at his side. Aster’s jaw twitched in annoyance before he could school his face. Tess caught it and chuckled. “Aw, big brother. I’m sorry you aren’t special. But the invite was for all of us and it wouldn’t be Elle if she didn’t hand write all the invites herself.” She paused. “Well, at least, the important ones.”

“Invites?” Aster asked, curious. He hasn’t gotten that far yet. Typical Eliana, droning on for half a page about her latest goings-on before getting tot he damned point. He skimmed down to the bottom- but not before vowing to go back and read over every word carefully once he was back in the safety of his room. There, in elegant script, it read;

With this, I am hereby officially inviting you to my Not Actually an Engagement Ball. If you cannot be there, do let me know, as I will have to call the whole thing off because I refuse to suffer through it without your company. I fear it will be the only thing to keep me sane. Write me back as soon as you get this, and I look forward to seeing you soon!

Your dearest, most irreplaceable friend, Elle

Aster couldn’t breath for a moment. “An... An engagement ball?”

“Actually, I think it specifically stated that it was Not Actually an Engagement Ball.” Soren noted softly