“Dewdrop has an important errand to run.”
Although at this point, she was debating just going herself.
The twins looked at each other. Both nodded at the same time. Seconds later, Willa’s form started to twist. Her limbs lengthened and some of her fur receded until a child stood where the bearcat had just been.
The first time she’d done this she’d had the body of a child around nine years old. Now, she looked older. Somewhere around twelve, Tate guessed.
A thin pelt covered the majority of her body, and her hair contained the same colors and stripes as her bearcat form.
Vivid green eyes trained on Tate as Willa pointed. “Study.”
Tate’s eyes followed her finger to a door that led off the entryway and blinked in surprise at the two women peering at them with identical looks of fascination.
Satisfied Tate understood and wouldn’t bother them anymore, Willa shifted back into her four-legged form before pouncing on top of Dewdrop.
He groaned in surprise, pushing her off and crawling up another stair.
Sorry, Dewdrop, Tate apologized in her head. She’d tried to save him, at least.
“Roslyn, Ashwin, you have unexpectedly good timing. What brings you here?” Tate asked, moving toward them.
On the stairs, Dewdrop managed to shake his attackers off long enough to struggle to his knees and hook his arms over the banister.
Pax gave a mock growl as he dug his claws into Dewdrop’s pants and proceeded to climb him like he was a tree. Not to be outdone by her brother, Willa scrambled up the other leg.
Dewdrop winced but held still as Pax settled on his shoulder. The Veles placed one paw on Dewdrop’s head for balance.
Willa chose the banister as her perch, curling her feet under her until she looked like she was a queen on her throne, surveying her subjects below.
Tate glanced at Dewdrop and raised her eyebrows.
He shook his head, just as confused as her.
Things didn’t usually work out this flawlessly when Tate was involved. If not for the fact Tate liked and trusted—to a point—both women, her greeting would be a lot less welcoming.
Seeing Tate coming their way, Roslyn bowed her head in a respectful manner. “I apologize for dropping by unannounced.”
Tate paused, taking the time to study Roslyn more closely.
Roslyn was the daughter of a noble line that traced its origins all the way back to the Savior Jaxon Kuno, and it showed in the way she held herself. She possessed a dignity and poise Tate had only ever seen in other nobles.
Taller than her companion by a few inches, Roslyn had dark brown hair bound into a knot at the back of her head. A few tendrils curled around her face, framing features that possessed a traditional sort of beauty.
She wore a dark blue fitted jacket over a full skirt of the same color. Her back was straight and her posture impeccable.
There was a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. Evidently, her adventures in Silvain had instilled a confidence she’d been lacking. Gone was the girl who’d lost her way, renouncing her noble family in favor of forging her own path.
There was no doubt in her gaze. No uncertainty or confusion. She knew who she was. More importantly she embraced that person.
She was someone who could take on the world and might even win.
Roslyn straightened from her bow, pinning a clear gaze on Tate. “I think you’re in desperate need of my skills and knowledge.”
“You know about what’s happening tomorrow.”
Roslyn inclined her chin. “The dragon-ridden’s commander sent me a messenger to inform me of the details.”
“At least he’s communicating with one of us.”
