Five years later, when I was twenty-two and had graduated from the academy, I became pregnant again.
This time it was different. My body remembered the process, my mind was calmer, and my heart... my heart beat with a different emotion. I knew what was coming. I knew the joy that awaited me.
Calithia was born on a spring night, when the flowers in the royal gardens were in full bloom and the air smelled of jasmine and new life.
And from the very first moment, she was different from Eliel.
My firstborn was calm, observant, a child who preferred to sit and watch rather than rush into action. Calithia, on the other hand... Calithia was a whirlwind.
As soon as she learned to crawl, she wanted to explore everything. She got into closets, climbed on chairs, disappeared into the gardens and reappeared hours later covered in dirt and leaves, a proud smile on her face.
—Where were you? —I would ask her, half laughing, half worried.
—Exploring! —she would reply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Eliel, from his position as older brother, watched her with a mixture of admiration and bewilderment. Sometimes he tried to imitate her, but his calm nature gave him away. He preferred reading a magic book to climbing a tree.
But together... together they were perfect. Eliel calmed Calithia; Calithia encouraged Eliel. They complemented each other like day and night, like the sun and the moon.
And I watched them, and my heart filled with immense gratitude.
The palace, which could once feel empty despite its enormous halls, now vibrated with life. Children's laughter echoed in the hallways. Small races interrupted council meetings. Toys appeared in the most unexpected places.
The palace was never sad. Not once.
That was the perfect life. The life any woman would dream of having. A husband who loves you. Healthy, happy children. A home full of joy.
And, as if all this were not enough, your husband is the king of a nation.
But I don't want my words to be misunderstood. Being queen is not synonymous with happiness. I know many women in the court who, despite their titles and luxuries, live empty inside. Their husbands ignore them, their children are raised by nannies, their days are filled with protocol and loneliness.
The title does not make happiness. Love, family, true connection... that is what matters.
And I had all of that.
---
Just when I thought my life could not be more complete, when I believed my heart had no more room for love, you appeared.
Aito.
My son.
Although you do not carry my blood, although you did not grow in my womb, although I did not hear your first cry at birth... you are my son. As much mine as Eliel, as much mine as Calithia.
Sometimes I think about destiny, about those invisible threads that weave our lives without us knowing. Because just when I believed happiness had reached its limit, just when I thought I could wish for nothing more, you appeared to prove me wrong.
To remind me that the human heart is a bottomless well, capable of loving just a little bit more always.
When I saw you for the first time, wrapped in those linen cloths, so small, so helpless, with those golden eyes that looked at me as if you had known me forever... I felt something I hadn't felt since I had Calithia.
That spark. That warmth in my chest. That irrepressible urge to protect, to care for, to love.
And when you smiled... oh, Aito. That smile of yours, innocent, pure, without guile. It touched my soul in a way I cannot explain with words.
Then I reached out my hand, without thinking about anything else, without calculating, without hesitating. And you clung to my finger with your tiny hands. So tightly. As if you knew I was your refuge. As if you were telling me "don't let go of me, please."
And I didn't let go. I never intend to let you go.
The words escaped my mouth before I could think them. I asked Sir Zekin to let me adopt you, for you to stay with us, to be part of this family. Without knowing if Marko would agree, without knowing if the children would accept you, without knowing anything, except one absolute certainty:
You had to be my son.
And when Marko agreed, when Eliel and Calithia welcomed you with open arms, when I finally held you in my arms and knew you would stay forever... I cried, Aito. I cried with happiness.
Because you made me happy too. You made me a mother again. You gave me back that spark that, although it had never completely gone out, now shone with a new light.
---
And now I watch you grow.
You are just as curious as Calithia. Perhaps even more so. You spend your days asking "why?" about everything. Why is the sky blue? Why do flowers smell different? Why can mages do things that warriors can't?
I watch you run through the hallways, your black hair flying behind you, your golden eyes shining with that light that only children discovering the world have.
I watch you train with Zekin, pushing yourself beyond what is expected of a child your age. I watch you fall, get up, fall again, and get up once more. Always with that determination etched on your face.
I watch you look at the mages with that mixture of admiration and melancholy, not yet knowing that your gift is different, special, unique. Not yet knowing that the wind itself recognizes you as its own and answers your call.
And my heart swells with pride. And it also shrinks a little with worry. Because I know the world is not kind to the special, the unique, to those who have a great destiny written in the stars.
But I also know you will not be alone. You will have Eliel, your older brother, who already promises to teach you magic. You will have Calithia, your sister, who would throw herself into fire to protect you. You will have Zekin, your master, who will guide you with a firm hand but a generous heart. You will have Marko, your father, who watches you with pride from the shadows.
And you will have me. Always. No matter what happens.
That is why I want to watch you grow, Aito. I want to see you as a grown man, strong and wise. I want to see how far your potential reaches, how amazing you become over the years.
I want you to one day bring me a beautiful daughter-in-law. A woman who loves you, though not as much as I do (because that would be impossible), but who loves you sincerely, with devotion, with an open heart.
And I want you to give me many grandchildren, Aito. To love them as I love you. To fill this palace with more laughter, more running, more life.
So, thank you.
Thank you, Aito Greymont, my son, for coming to us. For making this family happier. For filling a void I didn't even know existed.
May you grow healthy. May you grow strong. May the wind always carry you on the right path, and when you fall, may you always have a friendly hand to help you up.
And always remember this: no matter what happens, no matter what you do, no matter where you are...
I will be here. Waiting for you. Loving you.
As only a mother can.