She frowns, still watching me. Contemplating. “You said Aili was like you. You weren’t serious about her being part gremlin, were you?”
I snort. “Nope, she’s just a plain old grump. And sometimes a brat if we’re being candid.”
Then I drop the humor, because she needs to know the rest. Or most of it, anyway. Some secrets aren’t mine to tell.
“The other kids, though? They were still at the orphanage for similar reasons.”
The princess’s brow furrows, and I can see her thoughts turning. “They’re all half-br—uh…different, too?”
“Nice save.” I smirk. “Not all half-breeds, but some of us are. Happy here is half-cherub.”
She glances toward the slumbering infant with soft eyes. “Katja’s rather small…”
“Part pixie.”
Big blue eyes widen. “Really?”
“Mhmm. She has wings and everything.”
Delight flickers across her face. “Wings? So, she can fly?”
“Yes, but she doesn’t let people see for obvious reasons. You know how some folk abuse pixies for their dust.”
“Oh.” Bright eyes blink rapidly while the princess presses her lips together like she’s trying to hold back a whole parade of questions. “And Mikael is very—”
“Tall? Large?” I cut in smoothly. “We obviously overfed that one. I kept telling him to stop growing, but he’s stubborn like that.” Before she can ask any follow-up questions, I distract from Mika by moving on to a certain redheaded terror. “There’s a reason I call Helkki my Hellion. You’ve heard of redcaps?”
“You’re joking.”
“Not full-blooded. As evidenced by the lack of murderous rampages. Not even half-blood. Just enough to make her a menace.”
She shakes her head in disbelief. “That explains a lot, actually. I’ve never seen anyone so ready to climb every unmoving thing in sight. And some moving things.”
“Or fling herself off them,” I add dryly.
“And the boys, you call them twins but, well, they look nothing alike.”
I smile at her obvious confusion. “That’s because Johannes is a changeling.”
Her whole body goes still. “You mean…” This time, her shock looks different. Less curious. Uglier. “He’s…human?”
“Yes. He is.” The hot spike of defensiveness in my words carries an unspoken challenge. My teeth clench to stop me from saying more, remembering who stands before me.
The moonstone in her pendant catches some light, seeming for a moment to glow like a reflection of my flash of anger. The princess startles, shifting as if she felt it. Her mouth is a thin line until she draws a careful breath.
“I’m sorry. That was rude. I’ve just never been around humans before.”
“Well, now you have. And you lived to tell the tale.”
“Lark, I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did. Everyone does.” The words come out harsher than I intend, but it’s not just me I stand up for; it’s the ones I love. “The twins are actually from a respectable Wilder family of merchants. Did you know that? Their parents perished in a storm on the Ever Seas. Juani could have found a new home easily, but there was no hiding Joha’s status, and Juho refused to go without him. Year after year, I saw people come to the orphanage, take an interest in those boys, only to turn up theirnoses as soon as they got the paperwork. I don’t need anyone else to do the same, so if it’s a problem for you, then walk away, Val.”
She waits for my rant to end, her expression frozen. When she speaks, it’s soft. “You’re very protective of them.”
“Someone has to be.”
Slowly, she nods. “I can see that. I’m sorry for my reaction. I should have thought before speaking.”
