She is not certain why she follows her father here except he has asked and she has never been one to turn down such things. She is a quiet girl, content to walk amongst her mother’s flowers and learn the beauty of her gifts, but she has never wanted for more. She has never desired any kind of power of attention outside of the gentle love of her family. Never wanted for more.

Still, she loves her father and she respects him.

So when he asks, she follows.

They walk side by side although more than once she cranes her elegant neck back to look toward her brother who follows at a distance. Something in her heart twists at the sight of him but she doesn’t elaborate or dwell on it. He will always sit in the primary seat there, and she will always be the first to give him the full width of her attention. The full breadth of it.

Even Midnight and Malone, who she care for in such different ways, do not compete.

She startles a little when her father’s voice breaks through her thoughts and her smile grows just a touch sheepish as she dips her head, the waves of inky black mane hiding her expression. When she glances up at him, she rolls her shoulders.

“I am not sure, to be honest.” She doesn’t raise her voice and although she hopes that her brother doesn’t hear them talking, she also doesn’t hide it from him. “I want him too but I haven’t had time to ask him. He is so busy these days.” With adventures, she is sure, although she doesn’t feel any twinge of jealousy. She could not begrudge him even if she tried.

Her childhood is a mixture of confusion and blurry memories. She remembers what it is like to watch her mother suddenly filled to the brim with the magma of her magic. She remembers the fear in her father’s eyes, the knowledge that her mother was leaving, and the reconciling in the months to come. She was not born in Tephra but it has become the home of her heart. It is where her family came together again. Where she met with Midnight. Where she grew into a young adult.

There is a sharp pang in her breast when she looks across the water and realizes this.

There is a sharp pain when she realizes youth is ending.

She still feels so painfully young. She feels it like a vice around her throat, feels it like a stone in her chest. Her naivety is a growing, blossoming thing and she cannot deny the pieces of her that would clutch to what is familiar. That would keep her tucked away in Tephra forever.

She smiles when she feels the hip of her brother brush up against her and she reaches over to gently press her mouth there to the bristle of his hair. It is comforting to know that no matter what, her twin is still there. He is steadfast, even when the wildness of his heart carries him far.

After a moment of silence, contemplative and tense, she finally glances up. Her face is open and vulnerable, framed by wisteria and curling locks, with none of her sisters’ suspicion or hardness. She has none of their bitterness or anger. None of their rage.

“If that’s what you think is best, of course.”

She is a serious girl and duty is important.

Family is important.

More important than a childish need to stay young.

And when she looks around at the beautiful beaches unfolding around her, she cannot help but feel that perhaps this, too, could come to feel like home.

Whatever she thought was happening or wherever she thought the conversation was going, she finds herself completely surprised by what her father says—asks—next. The surprise registers on her gentle features, her sage green eyes widening just slightly beneath the thicket of her forelock. Her? Lead? She had never once considered it something she was well-suited for. Never once considered that she would ever be fit for the type of leadership both of her parents at varying times have managed to find themselves in.

It feels ill-fitting. Uncomfortable.

For perhaps the first time in her life, she finds herself wishing to fidget.

Still, she remains still, calm even in the face of this. Her head tilts to the side and she bites her bottom lip, leaning against her brother and taking several steadying breaths.

But the truth is that there is never a question or a debate for the girl.

Her father has asked and she has never had anything within her capable of saying no. She has never had anything in her that would make her willing to turn him away.

So despite her misgivings and her fears (what would the people of Ischia do in the face of a leader thrust upon them?), she just nods. She reaches up and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Okay,” she breathes. Still unable to wrap her mind around it but knowing that this was the path that was now laid in front of her. She would have to walk it to the best of her abilities.

“If that’s what you think is best then, of course.”

She has no thirst for the western crown and her heart doesn’t thump at the prospect, but she knows these kingdoms are dear to her parents so they will be dear to her.

Tentatively, she steps forward, her shoulder still pressed to her brother’s side.

“Home, then.”