She picked up her knife and began chopping carrots. The rhythmic thunk of blade on board was soothing after the busy reception.
The manor sat quiet around her now. All four couples had departed hours ago, along with their guests, and the gardens were empty except for the late-evening faelights beginning their slow dance among the flowers. Her granddaughters’ laughter echoed in the halls, a ghost of the joy that had filled the grounds all afternoon.
Grimble sprawled across the kitchen table, his tail draped over the edge, watching her with the smug satisfaction of a cat who’d caught the largest mouse in the barn.
“You’re preening,” Elizabeth said without looking up from her carrots.
I’m doing no such thing.
“You’ve been insufferable since Bastian presented Acorn with those hazelnuts. Anyone would think you’d arranged the entire thing yourself.”
I may have offered strategic guidance at key moments.
Elizabeth swept the chopped carrots into the pot. The scent intensified, filling the kitchen with sweet warmth.
She began peeling potatoes, letting the silence stretch between them.
She hummed as she worked, an old tune her own grandmother had taught her. The melody made the steam dance differently, a fun, magical trick.
The matches turned out well, don’t you think?Grimble said.
“They did.”
You’re not going to let it go to your head, are you?
“Why would I do that? I created opportunities. The rest was entirely up to them.”
Elizabeth added the potatoes to the pot and wiped her hands on her apron.
A chime rang through the kitchen, and they both went still.
Elizabeth set down her spoon and opened the window, already knowing what she’d find. The sprite hovered there, wings beating so fast they were nearly invisible.
She gestured the creature inside. “Come, little one. Rest yourself.”
The sprite landed on the sill.
Elizabeth pulled out the tiny cushioned platform she kept specifically for sprite visitors, placing a thimble of nectar along with crystallized honey and fruit cut small nearby.
“Refresh yourself first,” she said. “Whatever message you carry can wait until you’ve recovered.”
The sprite dove for the nectar, draining the thimble before starting on the honey.
Grimble sat up on the table, his tail curling around his paws.Official messenger?
“We’ll know in a moment, won’t we?”
The sprite finished and sat back with a sigh, her glow brightening. She produced a tiny scroll. “From the Coven, Mistress Thornwick.” She bowed and launched herself back out the window in a shower of silver sparks.
Elizabeth picked up the scroll, the magical paper warm in her fingers, already beginning to expand to readable size. She carried it to the table and sat near Grimble, angling it so he could read over her shoulder.
To Mistress Elizabeth Thornwick,
Regarding the Territorial Anchor Network and Associated Protective Measures:
The Coven Council is pleased to confirm that the fourth and final territorial marker has achieved full stability. Measurements taken at sunset on this date show the wolf shifter territories now carry the same “rosy radiance” detected in the vampire, dragon, and fae territories following the establishment of your granddaughters’ unions.
All four corners of our network are secure and operating as they should. The veil between the magical and human worlds registers its strongest stability in over three centuries. Magical resonance patterns indicate the immediate crisis has been averted.
