Children shrieked and sprinted up and down the stairs, weaving through Serill’s legs and calling for Madame Bele to throw a grand ball for the Severinian Prince. Jyva clung to Elias’s neck as Veris and Diggory tugged on Farrah’s sleeves and begged for her to tell them stories.
Brela had trained them all much better, and they were accustomed to not messing around with her. With arms full of crates of food, Brela stomped her foot.
“Akaza!”
The children straightened to attention immediately, Jyva scrambling off Elias’s back before falling in line.
Brela grinned. “Well done. Let’s get the food, you little beasts. Story time after you’ve done the chores that you’ve been avoiding since we’ve been gone.”
They all accepted the crates, working together to carry the heavier ones. From the kitchen, Brela saw Madame Bele whisper a prayer of thanks to her before instructing them to put the supplies away.
Serill leaned closer and whispered to her. “That was impressive. You taught them the sand sprite language?”
“Shh!” Farrah whispered with a giggle.
Elias plopped onto the stairs and rubbed at his shins. “They don’t know it’s real. They think it’s Brela’s secret communication and that they’re the only ones who know it.”
Brela nodded. “They were jealous that the three of us had our signing so I taught them a few phrases. I told them they could only use it in emergencies.”
Serill nodded and looked around at the old building.
After weeks away, it seemed to be in worse shape than Brela remembered. Paint was peeling off the walls, a brick had fallen off the tiny fireplace, and the second floor seemed to groan in the wind. Except there wasn’t a wind.
“You three work here?” the prince asked.
“I used to live here,” Farrah answered. “Before I met Brela. It looked a lot worse than it does now.”
“Most of the newer structure, specifically the roof, is thanks to Elias,” Brela said, sitting next to him on the stairs. “We finally have a bed for everyone, instead of three to a mattress, and consistent meals. All we can do now with this building is patch things when they break.”
“Pardon me, Prince,” a small voice squeaked. Brela grinned as Jyva fanned out her baggy pants like a skirt and bowed to Serill. “Would you like to see our room?”
Farrah raised a brow. “Is it clean?”
“Maybe,” Jyva giggled.
Serill looked between the three of them for permission.
“Go ahead,” Brela said with a nod. “We’ve got a few minutes before we need to leave.”
The little girl squealed and yanked Serill up the stairs with her, nearly stomping on Brela in the process. She ended up in Elias’s lap to avoid a boot to the face.
“Gentle!” Farrah called after her. She sighed. “That girl is going to have a new crush.”
Brela tapped Elias’s nose. “Disappointed?”
The man pouted and squeezed her. “A little. Who is going to draw pictures of me now?”
“Rude, there is an artist literally sitting in your lap,” she huffed.
“You’ve been a little preoccupied.”
Brela grimaced.
“Sorry,” Elias whispered, sliding his hand into hers. “How badly did it go with him?”
She shrugged. “As badly as it could.”
Farrah sat down next to them and took her other hand. “Bre, I’m so sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”
