For a few eternal seconds they said nothing. Taeryn watched her mirrored turquoise eyes closer than ever as they scanned their own reflection. For the first time, Taeryn was close enough to see the gold ring of fire wrapped around her blood's eyes. The same gold that swam through her own. The party had continued on without them outside. Laughter and voices of familiar and strange fae clamoured into a foggy roar.

Finally, Elentiya spoke, "Who are you?"

How many times had she been asked that in Mistward? Just today even? How many times had Taeryn asked herself the same question? She was an orphan girl whose only identity was a fable from an old nursemaid of kings and queens and magic and curses. She wasn't royalty. She was a peculiar girl with too sharp and too soft features. Her magic might have been true, but she could never really believe she had a noble family who had dropped her on a doorstep of another country. She had refused to believe it was true. She couldn't. Not until the sister of the stories walked right into the Commune of Healers that day.

Her eyes faded to the floor, inspecting her feet and then the scattered hay before she pulled in the deepest breath of her life. "My name is Taeryn," she said and backed away until she reached the second tub still full of water. Crossing her legs, she dropped to the floor to pick at her nails. "I think you're my sister."

A brief pause and then, "I never had any siblings."

"Oh," was all Taeryn could manage. She was picking at a tender spot on the side of a particular nail. There was some dangling skin she needed to chew off, but she wouldn't do that until she was alone.

"Why would you think I am your sister?" the girl asked, suddenly a stranger.

"I am an orphan," she muttered, realizing only as she said it that those were words she'd never spoken to another soul. "I was told a story when I was very young that my parents were royalty - a ruling king and queen. They possessed a deeply powerful bloodline and after my older sister was born with greater power than anyone anticipated, my conception was kept as private as possible. And when I was born I was officially declared stillborn to those who knew. But I was sent from birth across the sea to be left with the Commune of Healers to be looked after so that I wouldn't have the same cross to bear that my sister did. I was supposed to be hidden from Maeve. In plain sight, I suppose," she paused then, finally looking up only to see the other girl's gaze somewhere far off. "I never really believed that story, though. Most of the other healers said I was just abandoned at the doorstep like a few others had been over the years. Most said I was a nobody."

"Nameless," Elentiya breathed.

"Yes," Taeryn replied.

Minutes of silence passed. The ongoing party was settling into quiet outside.

"Who raised you?"

Taeryn held a breath. "Jera was my nursemaid until I was a child, but she left the Commune. I've been on my own just fine since then." She wouldn't be able to have this humiliating conversation and talk of Jera. "Who raised you?" she decided to ask back, instantly regretting it after seeing the girl's face.

"My parents…" she started, but took a breath as if collecting herself. "My parents were the king and queen of Terrasen. My father was a descendent of King Brannon - blessed by Mala Fire Bringer." Taeryn stared through the girl's face. She couldn't make herself look her in the eye. "My mother was a descendent of Mab, Mistress of the Night."

"Was?" Taeryn choked out.

"They were murdered when I was ten years old," she whispered.

Taeryn forced herself to swallow. "I'm… I'm so sorry," she stuttered.

"Me too," she said.

She didn't let herself really think about what it meant that this girl was telling her these stories of her family. She didn't let herself think of how she was connecting the dots of her past. Instead she said, "Are you blessed by Mala, too?"

Without answering, she replied, "Are you blessed by Mab?"

Neither responded. They both knew the answers to their questions.

"What were their names?" Taeryn asked, finally meeting the other girl's eyes.

"Rhoe and Evalin Ashryver Galanthynius," she answered. "How old are you?"

She considered lying before admitting, "About fifteen I think. I never really kept track. How old are you?"

She leaned back in the tub, letting her head rest on the rim. "Nineteen."

"You're the rightful queen of Terrasen?"

"And you're the princess."

More silence.

Taeryn hadn't felt herself drifting to sleep when her sister's voice sent her eyes flying open. "They call me Elentiya around here, but that's a name a friend gave me. My parents… Our parents named me Aelin. You can call me that if you want."

Her teeth were starting to shake a little as she spoke and Taeryn stood, removing her cloak. "Here, you can dry off with this and use it to walk back to your rooms if you like. I think the Prince ruined your clothes…" she mumbled. "I can bring you new ones in the morning or send you with some of mine now. I sleep in another room here-"

"No need," she said, but took the cloak from her outstretched hand. She rose without shame, not even trying to hide her body, but Taeryn looked away. Something about the nakedness of their conversation had removed the clinical part of her brain that didn't register the human anatomy through her life as a healer. "Thank you," she said as she stepped out of the tub wrapping herself in the robe. It seemed to fit her differently. She was taller and more womanly, Taeryn noticed. She nodded in response.

Aelin walked with a lethal grace Taeryn couldn't fathom as she made her way to the door like a killer queen. "I'll see you around," she tossed over her shoulder before she pushed through the lockless wooden door and left.

Taeryn had pretended not to notice when Aelin and Prince Rowan of Maeve's bloodsworn had started sharing sleeping quarters. It was none of her business. Just because they'd all but confirmed they were sisters didn't mean that they would suddenly become secret sharers or start braiding each other's hair like the twins she'd known back at the Commune had every night. And even if it seemed a little risque for Taeryn, Aelin was obviously nothing like Taeryn. And she was a grown woman - Aelin could do whatever she pleased. Not only was she a grown woman - but a queen. Heir of Terrasen.

Taeryn shook her head releasing the thoughts despite knowing it was hopeless. How do you just stop thinking about finding your only family when you've spent your entire life without one?

It had been weeks since their talk and they hadn't spoken since, though anytime Taeryn noticed a new injury on Aelin when she went to get breakfast from the kitchens every morning, she would heal it wordlessly. Perhaps it was offensive to Aelin as a warrior, but Taeryn couldn't muster a care. She needed to feel some sort of connection and when she could never find the words to approach her big sister, she would heal her instead. The least she could offer was what she did best, magic.

The Prince hadn't spoken to her either, though she noticed he watched her sometimes. She wasn't sure whether it was because of her new connection to Aelin or because of the magic she'd unveiled to him. It wasn't smart to have shown him any of her magic that day. He was sworn to Maeve. One question and he would spill every ounce of what he saw to the evil faerie queen. She wasn't sure if it mattered how close Aelin and the Prince where, he couldn't be trusted.

As if he could sense her thoughts, the Prince pushed straight through the door to her healer's quarters where she was idly mending a soldier's wound from a spar with one of his friends. The guard straightened underneath her touch as the silver haired male entered. She was wrapping the wound the old fashioned way, refusing to expend as much of her power in Mistward ever again.

"Just because my door does not lock does not mean you don't need to knock, Prince," she snapped, startling herself.

He seemed to snicker. Snicker. Taeryn glared at him.

"Finish up, healer. You're training with us today."

Like hell she was.

But she wasn't about to argue with the immortal warrior, not in front of witnesses at least. She secured the bandage and sent the male on his way. He nodded to the Prince before nearly sprinting from his presence.

"I'm not training with you," she said, turning away from him to put away her supplies inside the small desk where she sat.

"Yes you are," he commanded.

But this was not negotiable. Training meant showing someone else her power and that was something she would never do. Never again.

"You can't make me, you know."

"I knew you were young but surely you're not that childish," he countered and she spun on him, nostrils flaring.

"My magic is petty compared to yours and Aelin's. Nothing would come of me training with you," she fought. Her strength faltered when he stepped towards her, moving deeper into the wooden room.

He didn't hesitate. "We both know what a lie that is. You filled both of those tubs with water out of thin air. You healed me without touching me. Not only did you heal Aelin's burning blood, but you replenished her magic. She needed virtually no recovery time. Your magic is not petty: It is vital."

Taeryn was shaking now, whether with rage or fear she didn't know, but she was not going to show the bloodsworn of Maeve another inch of her magic.

"I need you to work with Aelin," he said quietly.

Her brow tensed.

"She is going to need to be protected…" he started, choking out the soft words. "She's going to need a court. She's going to need powerful allies. She's going to need you."

Taeryn's breaths grew heavy, her jaw ached at the tension.

After a quick breath, any softness in his voice disappeared. "I'm not going to say it again. You're training with us. Now come on, I'm tired of waiting," he barked before swiftly turning and stalking out the door and straight out into the trees.

In another form she would have snarled after him, but instead she let herself feed on the anger he gave her as she stood and followed in his wake.