Page 38 of Storm and Sea

In the hall, Atreus reminded him for the millionth time, “Remember the rules.”

“Follow your lead,” Nyel said with an eye roll.

“And there is someone else here⁠—”

“Atty!”

Atreus only caught a flash of thick, curly red hair before he was bear-hugged and nearly knocked off his feet.

“Oof— hey, Marina. Good to see you,” he said, returning the embrace for only a second before easing her back to create some much-needed space.

“Oh yep, sorry. Not a hugger, forgot,” she said, then promptly slapped him on the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?” He recoiled.

“I didn’t get a single letter from you this winter - again!”

Atreus rolled his eyes. “You know I’m trash at that kind of thing.”

“You could still tryyyy,” she whined. “I’d have been happy with a stick-person drawing.”

“I don’t draw.”

“Yes you do Atty, I’ve seen it,” she said with hands on her hips.

“I do not, and it’s Atreus.”

“Do too,” she said, sticking out her tongue. “And can you call me Rina? Pleeeease. I gave you a nickname; why don’t I get one?”

“I’m not doing that.”

Before she could argue, Marina finally noticed Nyel. “You brought someone over? Atty, did you make a friend while I was gone?” She sounded like a proud parent.

“Don’t call me that. And this is Nyel,” he grumbled. “And I have plenty of friends.”

“Sure,” she said, extending a confident hand. “Buongiorno! I’m Marina Marcello.”

Nyel took it (correctly, this time after he and Atreus practiced). “Nyel Veritani, it’s nice to meet you. I’ve never met a female before—I mean-” Nyel scrambled and turned beet red. He sidestepped far enough so Atreus couldn’t stomp on his feet. An urge Atreus barely resisted.

“A— what?” Marina said, eyes alight with curiosity.

Atreus would have been more worried if Nyel had said that to anyone else, but Marina was a special peach.

“He meant a woman as pretty as you,” Atreus filled in. “He doesn’t get out much.”

“Awww, Atty, you think I’m pretty?” she said, pinching his cheek.

Atreus swatted it away. “Don’t call me that. And I know you’re basically a feral cat with red hair. You can’t fool me.”

She laughed, a sound much more pleasant than her singing voice. “You do know me. Anyway, come eat! Papà cooked way too much food.”

She skipped to the kitchen, her bare feet slapping on the wooden floorboards and her voice resuming its call.

Nyel flinched.

“What?” Atreus asked.

He lowered his voice to a whisper with a horrified expression. “When I heard it this morning, I thought the humans were killing our breakfast.”