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Ra’as
The conference call ended early, and Ra’as headed to the library for an architectural volume he thought he had about privacy screening.
There were strict rules about window glass in the Ulfgard building code, and he was having trouble figuring out how to guarantee privacy for the new leader’s personal rooms without turning the palace into a windowless box.
Though it seemed that every architectural project ran into tangles here and there, Ra’as still had a hard time not losing his patience each time. He was determined to solve this issue calmly, and keep the project on track.
He had nearly reached the library when he heard noises coming from the kitchen.
It had been so long since he had heard the children laughing with abandon that at first, he thought they might be in some kind of trouble.
But then Mimi let out one of her trademark peals of bell-like giggles, and he recognized the sweet sound for what it was.
Without consciously deciding to do so, he abandoned his quest for the book, drawn to the sound of the kids’ mirth as if he were carried by a rogue hover craft.
It was good to hear their laughter. He hadn’t heard them like that in so long. He longed to be sitting at the table with them, laughing with a light heart.
By the time he got to the doorway, the children were literally cheering, as if the new nanny had scored a goal unit in the big game on holo-vision and the kids were a pub full of drunken onlookers exploding with riotous glee.
“Cupcakes again,” Mimi was yelling. “Cupcakes for dinner forever.”
What a ridiculous notion. No one would ever make cupcakes for dinner. No wonder she was laughing.
But then he looked at the table and saw that she wasn’t kidding at all. A plate of chocolate cupcakes with a sugary-looking glaze was the only thing there.
And there were two empty wax holders on each of the kids’ plates.
Helpless fury filled his chest. They weren’t actually happy. They were just hyped up on junk food.
“What are you feeding them?” he demanded.
And just like that the happy noises were gone, and the kitchen went cold and silent once more.
“We made cupcakes, Daddy,” Mimi said softly.
“Kids, go to your rooms,” he said, through a clenched jaw. “Now.”
Dyrk slouched away, his too-long hair covering his eyes, tail dragging.
Mimi trailed along behind him, her ears flat back to her head in shame.
“You upset them,” the nanny pointed out. Her eyes were cast down, but her chin was set with a stubborn impudence he didn’t like one bit.
“This wasn’t their fault,” he growled at her. “You’re the adult. You’re supposed to safeguard their health.”
“I—” she began.
“Feeding them junk food to try to make them like you is a shortcut,” Ra’as roared. “And no one takes shortcuts with my kids.”
“I understand,” she said, rising to her feet. “I’d like to check on them, if it’s okay.”
The tidal wave of fury in his chest began to ebb.
He nodded once.
But she stopped in the doorway and turned back to him.
“No one should have to eat a box of sludge every night for their dinner,” she said firmly, looking him right in the eyes. “Not even you.”
