I jumped at the sound of his call, wholly unprepared for it as it rang out strong and insistent across the wide expanse of the Dunes. I had not realized that he had left my side, nor that he had intended to call the family to heel today, but it should not have surprised me so. My Beloved had been anxiously preparing for this moment ever since he had returned to the islands, and now there was a true chance of his hopes coming to fruition. Rumors carried news of many returns, including that of his brothers and their wives, and there were signs - albeit faint - that some had never left our homeland.

It was a lot to take in.

I could not shake the feeling of being overwhelmed. It was wonderful to see so many faces and hear the names of our people all over again, but I constantly felt as though I were just barely treading water, desperately trying to keep above the tidal wave. I didn't want to fail as their Mira the same way that I had the first time, but I felt just as untried now as I had then.

It did not help that I felt smaller than usual in comparison to my Husband. He seemed to have all of the answers and plans without any input from me. And while I know it was unfair of me to even suggest as much for how he would cry out against such a low accusation, I still felt as though I were insignificant compared to him. A figurehead that held no power or authority. I was their Mira in name only, as evidenced by my silence before Nyimara, and the fact that he had asked no opinion from me before calling our family together. Whatever announcement he intended to make today was of his own choosing, and while the goal behind it was likely intended to bolster both of us, it did not change that I would be as blind to it as anyone else.

My discomfort came, not from a place of disagreement, but from a fear of erasure. What was the point of having an opinion, if my choices would always be dictated by my Husband? Having seen firsthand the mares that governed their own lives, I felt a disjoint between their world and mine. Where I came from (where a part of me would always belong) loud women were problems, nothing more. Here, proud women like Nyimara were celebrated for their choices, not demonized.

I centered myself with a quiet brush of my muzzle over the invisible swell of my stomach, reminding myself of the promise I carried. I might still feel like a stranger among my own people, but this baby would not be. This baby would be the glue I needed to stay connected to my people, and would prove to everyone - myself included - that I was still a good Wife.

I looked up as my Husband appears and force a smle to my lips as he beckons me forward. The question feels too late for what he is asking, but I nod anyway, aware the decision had already been made and plans set into motion. I trek quietly at his hip as we move up the embankment, only to stumble to an awkward half-halt as my gaze falls on Jyeshtha. Her existence as Antares' first daughter had always been a sort spot for me, no matter how often or thoroughly my Beloved attempted to explain the reasons behind her creation. Previously, I had borne the girl no ill will for the circumstances of her birth, but seeing her now: whole and healthy and here sent a wave of jealousy through my body that was so strong it took my breath away.

Why not her? I wanted to beg the stars. Why did it have to be my girl?

I knew why of course, and I knew that even thinking such selfish thoughts were unfair to all parties involved, but I would be lying if a part of me didn't wish that their roles were reversed. The shame of thinking it made me recoil and I had to turn my tear filled eyes away from them both, brushing the evidence of my pain on my knees as I cleared my throat. Who was I to wish such pain on anyone else? Much less the daughter of my Husband?

Who was I becoming?

Gods... perhaps it should have been Indira to find him so long ago. She had bourne his first child, after all. Perhaps she would have been better suited as his first in all things. She, at least, seemed certain of herself in this world, and did not seem to be such a mess all of the time.

"Jyeshtha," I call out as steadily as I can, the smile rising to my lips again by sheer will alone. "It is good to see you again, daughter of my heart. How are you?"