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Herrin and Tryls looked at each other, a distinct air of awkwardness filling the stable.

“Did the pair of you go dumb?” Mirra folded her arms and glared at them. “You look like sullen schoolboys caught pilfering the teacher’s apples. Spit it out.”

Herrin sighed. “She’s not going to let it go, old chap. Best tell her.”

Tryls shuffled his feet, cleared his throat, and looked up at Mirra. She raised one eyebrow and waited silently.

“Mirra is the name you bear,” he said slowly, “But it is not the one you were given.”

He sank to one knee on the dirty stable floor, and bowed low before her.

“Emihi Ahallahni Deszimaí, rightful ruler of the land of Jesälla and all its dominions, on behalf of the Heis Nelarromeë I swear allegiance and duty to you, above all other allegiances I may owe, until death do take me beyond the Grey.”

She stared at him for a long moment, then her lips twitched. She began to smile. She was about to start laughing when Herrin, seized by an irrational urge, fell to his knees beside Tryls.

“Don’t laugh,” he said, looking up at Mirra.

Her smile turned to astonishment and she put one hand to her head. “You must be kidding me,” she said.

“Not in the slightest,” Herrin said. “He knew about your birthmark.”

Tryls raised his head, not quite lifting his eyes to meet her gaze. “If I may explain?”

She threw a sponge at Herrin and sat down on a bale of hay. “Oh, please. I insist.”

© Kari Fay

(Author’s Note: This week the Three Word Wednesday prompts are Distinct, Irrational and Sullen.)