[ She does not flinch or fold away from the touch. Instead, she lays her arms over Ianthe, and turns her head to kiss her forehead briefly, pressing the tears against Ianthe's cheek. ]

This is my Tuerintis, Prince Ianthe Naberius, [ she continues, brushing her thumb over Ianthe's wrist as she talks. ] I name her so because she has hair like gold of the butterflies of home, like them she is beautiful and yet, is drawn to the dead. [ Why she has chosen the name, all this time later. ] She is Death-Guarder, Death-Embracer, Death-Strider, Saint of Awe. Who Weaves Skin as Silk. Born of Twin-Bodies. I love her, Holy Father, she embraced my soul and the-soul-that-is-you, in whole, without fear as is done by Old Songs.

[ She squeezes Ianthe's hand tightly a moment, fond, caring. ] I ask you, on her behalf, to bring safe tides to her sister. One who is known by the name of Coronabeth, Heir to the Third House, who was thought dead by name but not in flesh. She will be found in Time's Realm, where they sail their ships. Guard her as that of my own family, I give her Blessings of the House of St. Loe, so she knows fair tides and bright skies, quick winds that never tear, and a hull that never rots, so she may return one day, to Ianthe, safe and whole.