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“Heath and Mela are being mean! They said I lost.” Tears trailed down Jas’s round cheeks as she wailed. “It’s not fair!”

Mela approached with her hands entwined behind her back. “I am sorry, Lady Lyra. I didn’t mean to make her cry.”

Lyra pulled her daughter into her lap. The child curled into her mother’s shoulder and buried her head in the curve of her mother’s neck, crying noisily. Once her daughter was settled, Lyra reached a hand out to Mela.

Approaching warily, Mela didn’t take the offered hand. Instead, she kept her hands safely tucked behind her back, well out of reach of any punishment. I knew what she was doing. Mistress Prout’s favorite tool of reprimand was a switch that she enjoyed applying liberally to children’s palms.

Showing more discernment than most adults I had encountered, Lady Lyra didn’t insist that Mela take her hand. Instead, she rubbed her daughter’s back. “Jas has given me a quick explanation of her side. Perhaps you would be willing to tell me what happened,” Lyra suggested.

Mela’s chin dropped, and she lowered her gaze. “Heath’s ball struck the pole and then mine, and by the rules of the game, that means, he wins and Jas and I lose. But when I said that, Jas got very upset. Does that mean I am in trouble?”

“Did you use mean words to tell her? Or a cruel tone?”

Mela shook her head so hard that the curls about her ears bobbed.

“Then it sounds relatively straightforward. Jas will overcome her disappointment.”

“No punishment?” Mela asked hopefully.

“Of course not. You did nothing wrong.”

Mela’s narrow shoulders dropped in relief, and she let her hands fall to her sides. “Jas hit the ball very well.” She motioned toward Heath, who was clearing away the game. “She knocked Heath’s ball out of bounds a couple times. They are both really good at the game.”

Lady Lyra rested her cheek on the top of Jas’s head and smiled warmly at Mela. “I am not surprised. Knock About is Heath’s favorite game, and he pesters his sister into playing every opportunity he gets.”

“I don’t like Knock About,” Jas declared as she straightened and crossed her arms over her narrow chest, glaring at her brother. “Come on, Mela.” She dove for the elder girl’s hand. “Let us play seek and find.” She tugged Mela off toward the house.

“What about Heath?” Mela asked with a glance to where Heath was walking toward us carrying the gear for Knock About.

“He can count,” Jas insisted. “Hurry, we need a head start to hide.”

“But—”

Mela’s protest was cut off as Jas dragged her into a run for the conservatory doors. The girls disappeared inside moments before Heath reached us, a confused and slightly hurt expression on his face.

“Where are they going?”

“To play seek and find.” Lady Lyra rose and embraced Heath, who manfully bore the show of affection with eight-year-old dignity. His mother understood and kept the embrace brief before stepping back and smiling at him. “Mela said you won the game.”

“Was that why Jas was crying?”

“She has recovered now.”

“I wish she would stop throwing theatrics every time she loses.”

“She is only six, dear heart. You struggled with losing at her age, too. Now, I believe I heard something about the pair of them wanting you to count and find them.” Lady Lyra brushed his hair back from his forehead before she claimed the game bag.

Heath rolled his eyes. “Do I have to?” he asked with a slight whine to his voice. His mother leveled a chastising look on him, and he flinched.

“Care to try that again?” she asked.

“I only promised them an hour and a half, and my tutor expects me in the library in two hours. I don’t want to spend all of my free time today chasing Jas around.”

“Did Jas or Mela ask you to play seek and find?” Lady Lyra returned to her seat next to mine.

“No.” His tone was cautious.

Lady Lyra shrugged slightly as she arranged her skirts. “Then I don’t see how you are obligated to go searching for them if they didn’t ask you to.” She winked at her son.