That point, about Roshka, she doesn’t answer; only smiles, a soft but proud expression. They are alike and different in a great many ways, but above all else the twins love one another, deeply; Aeriel can’t imagine who she’d be without Roshka by her side, and she knows he values her support as much as she values his boldness. Even if Irrylath said it idly-- and she doesn’t believe he would-- its truth is undeniable.

Aeriel leads easily, the path familiar even as it winds toward the heart of the building and into its depths, down little-used hallways, through places only accessible now by half-forgotten staircases. If anyone did stop to stare, she wouldn’t even notice; these are her places, her kingdom as it were, and here she goes on her way with confidence. And he is distracting, that she cannot deny, tall and striking, cutting a perfect silhouette in the corner of her vision.

She doesn’t mean to laugh, but she does. Perhaps it’s because he doesn’t look the least bit ashamed.

“For what crimes were you banished?” she asks, curious and amused, not bothering to wonder if it’s rude to pry. He’s disarming; and really, Aeriel cannot imagine any ulterior motive he might have to speak with her, so there is nothing to guard against.