“What? What is wrong with cats?”
She shrugged. “They’re so . . . temperamental.”
Cedric gave her a pointed look, humor dancing in the tilt of his mouth. “And orphans?”
She smiled at the surrounding children before flicking her gaze back to Cedric, trailing a path from his gold-brown eyes down to his boots and back again. “Well. I can think of at least one I have some fondness for.”
His answering expression warmed something behind Elyria’s ribs. She thought he looked as though he might say more, but a small hand suddenly yanked on the hem of Elyria’s cloak and she didn’t get a chance to find out.
“Are you really the Revenant?” whispered the little girl.
“I am,” Elyria whispered back. “And who might you be?”
“Her name is Leia, ma’am,” the older boy answered for her.
“Well, that’s certainly impressive, Leia,” Elyria exclaimed, bending down, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “You can change your voice? And make it sound like it’s coming from someone else’s mouth entirely? That is some impressive magic.”
Leia’s answering laugh was like a bell, sparking a unique kind of joy in Elyria.
“I’m sorry, my lady,” said the boy, cheeks flushing.
Elyria was already readying the words to clarify that she was only joking, that there was nothing to apologize for, when a high, clear voice cut across the room.
“Don’t fret, Jack. Lady Lightbreaker here was only teasing.” Tenny descended the stairs with a basket of linens under one arm. She pattedthe boy on the shoulder before offering Elyria a warm smile in greeting, her peach-colored satin dress shimmering slightly as she moved to Cedric’s side. “I gave the housemistress coin for some sorely needed supplies,” Tenny told him, “and assured her we had things well in hand if she wanted to run over to the market.”
“Very good,” Cedric said.
“Sir Victor, where’s your funny friend today?” asked Jack. Several more children came up on either side of him, stars in their eyes as they looked at Cedric. Elyria found herself stepping back to make room for them all—nearly a dozen in total.
Cedric laughed, warm and genuine. “I’m afraid Sir Tristan has other duties to attend to today, but I will be sure to let him know you think him funny. It will be the highlight of his entire week.”
“And I’m sure it won’t go to his head at all,” added Tenny with an exaggerated shake of her head that had Jack laughing.
Elyria blinked as she watched the interaction unfold. It was like she was gazing through a window—on the outside, looking in. These children knew Cedric. He knew them. Spent enough time here to be on a first-name basis with them, had ahistorywith them.
There was a lot of that going around lately, it would seem.
Her attention drifted back to Tenny, now carding her fingers through a little girl’s hair, the basket of linens dropped at her feet. With a gentle touch, she separated the strands into sections and started to braid it. It all looked so natural, so easy. Beside her, Cedric gesticulated wildly as he launched into a truncated version of their battle with the fyre wyrm to an enraptured Jack and several other boys.
It was effortless.Theywere effortless. Natural. Like pieces of a puzzle just begging to be put together. And Elyria didn’t know how to name the feeling pressing in on her chest as she watched, the strangeness shimmying down her ribs until it consolidated into something sharp. Vulnerable. A pang of something desperate and afraid,tuggingat her.
As if he felt that same sudden pull, Cedric’s head snapped to Elyria, his gaze seeking hers. “Leaving already?”
“What? No, I—” Her head twisted to either side as she took in the doorway she was now standing in. She hadn’t realized how far she’d drifted as she observed the happy humans. “We, uh, brought more food.”
Despite her rather pathetic delivery of the words, squeals of excitement pierced the air. Half the children who had been clustered around Cedric and Tenny ran forward, and Elyria clenched her jaw against the pang in her chest. She turned to Jocelyn and Ollie, still standing just on the other side of the front doorway, beckoning them forward with an outstretched hand. As they crossed into the house, Jocelyn removed two of her satchels, handing one to Elyria and the other to Ollie.
Elyria was all too happy for the distraction of grabby fingers and boisterous squeals as she, Jocelyn, and Ollie handed out crackers, portions of dried meats, and more crisp apples to the eager children.
“Thank you, Lady Lightbreaker!” cried one.
“You don’t seem so scary to me,” said another.
“Am I supposed to be scary?” Elyria asked, grinning.
“My gran told me the Revenant was a demon made flesh,” said a boy with ash-blond hair cut to his chin. “Before she died,” he added with a shrug, like he wasn’t particularly bothered by either thing.
Elyria was saved from the awkwardness of not knowing how to respond to that by a different young boy’s question.
