ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ ˢᵉᵛᵉⁿ

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                   Rhys dashi run run run               

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Mana had never seen such joy in the streets. Nor had she ever seen the people so happy, with so much respect for their High Lord and his circle. Their was no fear in their eyes when they spoke of him.

However, her disbelief slowly melted away to a rattling acceptance. Morrigan smiled at her knowingly, with a hint of that darkness in her eyes, darkness that clouded the Fae in Hewn City.

"They love him." She murmured, as if she could understand better if she spoke it out.

"They do." Morrigan agreed as the shopkeeper kept speaking about Rhysand and how he brings hope to a new era, to her children.

The shopkeeper, a rather energetic lady closing her millennia kept speaking as she pulled out a few dresses for Mana to try on, all of them were loose yet flattering her bulge to a certain degree.

"Although you may prefer pants, I speak from experience when I say you'll be glad to wear these loose fitting dresses for your pregnancy."
The shopkeeper, whom they'd learnt her name was Irene, advised.

"And if I'm cold?" Mana's legs always felt cold in dresses, which due to her current condition, led her to peeing. Another thing she hated about being pregnant.

"Try wearing woolen skirts, and do not work or do anything tiring. It hurts your baby."

"We'll take the skirts, four dresses, fleece pants, sweaters and seven of those warm blankets." Morrigan said, smirking at Mana's bewildered face.

Irene quickly folded the clothes in a matter Mana would never learn and put them in the bags. She only accepted half the price of the clothes, after a rigorous debate to give them away without taking a penny, to which Morrigan had compromised.

She was met with an uncomfortable silence as they made their way to another shop, as an attempt to show that she was not bothered by the reticence in their bubble with the busy Velaris around them, Mana studied the layout of the city.

Velaris had been built like a crust atop the rolling, steep hills are flanked by a board, winding river, sparkling like deepest sapphire - the Sidra River - and snaking toward the vast expanse of water beyond, the sea. The Sidra River is loitered by ships with sails of varying shapes, making it navigable.

At the northern edge of Velaris, curved to where the river bent toward them and flowed into their shadows, tower, like eternal guardians of the city, a wall of flat-topped mountains of red stone.

To the north different kind of mountains surrounded the city across the river, a range of sharp peaks like fish's teeth cleaved the city's hills from the sea beyond.

The city's buildings were crafted of white marble, warm sandstone and the same red stone of the flat-topped mountains. Many quarters of Velaris were full of town houses with green copper roofs and white chimneys.

The mighty Sidra, beloved of the fishermen, it's untamed waves ghastly rapid; the sounds of the rushing water was drowned out by the laughter in the streets but was soothing to hear.

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