2A, 75AD

It had been three months since her son had been born, and Lorra was beginning to feel herself again. The birth had been a fury of activity, though much had happened she had been in control of none of it. While that might have been an unsettling thing to contemplate, it had all been a positive blur of activity. The boy, Harold, was a cooing little boy and Lorra could not help but feel her heart swell at the sight of him, her little prince. It was certainly hard not to have seen her brothers, but the presence of her cousin, the Knight of Stone, had been a comfort to her though his visits had been infrequent given the trouble of making the journey up the the Eyrie.

Now that she had felt herself again, she emerged from her chambers and began to wander the Eyrie again. Though she missed the floor of the vale and the Long Lake, there was something about the sharp, clean air of the Eyrie that she enjoyed.