She was only gone long enough to announce her success before heading back, but she had stopped to check on the girl when she first arrived, and so she is not the first to greet them. And she doesn’t bring Cleary with her when the now-familiar scent of Ischia reaches her, not when it is accompanied by the voice of her King. It would be stupid to think he does not already know of her daughter’s existence, but some part of Kellyn doesn’t want to draw attention to the girl. Perhaps it is the only part of her that might be maternal, the part that remembers how much her family had loved and cared for her and thinks occasionally about how she can’t be that for her children.
Or perhaps it’s just selfishness – she already can see that Cleary will be special, special like Kellyn, and she doesn’t want everyone else to know about it. Her power had been a secret for so long, and it was something that she was sure she would teach the girl. No reason to show your cards before the end.
So there are three when she arrives – the bay stallion who emanates anger like a volcano emits steam, the King, and the flamboyantly cheerful purple stallion who looks disconcertingly like her youngest daughter’s father. Of course she barely remembers his name (Kirin, it was Kirin) but even a one-time fling it’s hard to forget a dude who’s purple. Now she is doubly glad Cleary is safely tucked away somewhere else.
She ignores the purple one. He isn’t Sabrael or Wallace, and he isn’t Pollock. Instead her green eyes linger on Sabrael a moment, before she looks again at Pollock, watching him; “They’re here for a mandatory visit because I stole them from Ischia.” she drawls it, sounding only half interested. “At least he is. And the girl. The purple one I don’t know anything about.”
daughter of cagney and elite