Page 54 of Sanctuary

Bach let out a deep chuckle, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners as he stood. "Don't pout," he told me with a wink. "The day is young, still. Plenty of time to…finish that letter."

I sighed and stood, glancing at Saffron for more information. "I take it from that look on your face that there's no need for the special biscuits?"

He shook his head, his eyes twinkling. "Not as far as I can tell, my lady. I sense no ill will from the visitors. In fact—" A bright, merry tinkle of feminine laughter interrupted him and he paused until it died down and a deeper, though still decidedly female, laugh joined in.

Before Saffron could attempt to finish his sentence, Bach barked a laugh of his own. He turned to me and his smile this time was just as happy as before, but free from teasing and flirtation. It was downright boyish in its glee. "I recognize that laughter," he told me, taking my hand. "Come. I think you'll enjoy these visitors much better than the Woodspurs or townsfolk come to complain about the price of barley or the color scheme of the new inn."

I raised my brows, but let him pull me toward the door. Saffron chuckled at Bach's enthusiasm. "I took the liberty of directing them to the casual parlor, sir. I have already provided refreshments. But Cook has asked whether she should prepare anything special for dinner."

Bach considered, then nodded to the butler. "Thank you Saffron, you judged the situation correctly, as always. And please tell Cook that if it isn't too much trouble a bit of blueberry tart and pumpkin mousse might not go amiss."

Then he continued leading me toward the parlor we used for close friends. "Fife!" he yelled in a booming voice as we passed the stairs.

Fife appeared at the top of the stairs. "I heard," he said with an exasperated roll of his eyes. "How could I not hear with all the cackling?" His voice was dry, but he was buttoning on a new vest as he flew down the stairs, one with shimmering green embroidery that brought out his stunning green eyes.

I was more bemused than ever.

Mirri poked his head out of the library, a book still clutched in his hand. "Is that who I think it is?" He looked like a rabbit hound eager to greet the return of its owner.

"It is," Bach said with a grin.

Mirri hastily set the book aside on the hall table, rather than carefully returning it to its place the way he normally would. Then he ran his hands nervously over his hair and clothes, looking suddenly self-conscious. "Should I go change?"

Bach shook his head. "Nonsense. Come along."

Then he was hurrying me down the hall again. "Where is Adder?" he said, turning to shoot me a questioning look over his shoulder.

I shook my head. "No idea. I think he was doing some work with the orphanage people in town this morning. Maybe he's still out?"

But the question of Adder's whereabouts was answered when we reached the parlor. I nearly stumbled when I heard my cold, disdainful mate issue a belly laugh never heard outside our little family group.

"Of course," Bach said with a soft chuckle. Then he drew me into the room with no explanation as to what in the world was going on.

"Oh! There she is!" I didn't have time to register what was happening before I was engulfed in a flurry of expensive silk skirts and heady perfume that made me want to sigh in bliss. I wasn't exactly tall myself, but I dwarfed my attacker. I stared down at what I could see of the tiny woman who was currently hugging me so hard I thought my ribs might break. All I saw was an upswept pile of glossy black curls.

Then the dainty female highborn was pulling away, gripping my upper arms and smiling up at me from one of the most beautiful faces I had ever seen. There was a familiar twinkle in her light green eyes, and her pouty lips turned up in a happy smile, her flawless golden skin flushed and glowing. "Oh, look at you. All grown up and just as cute as I remember!" She took one of my hands in hers, not giving me a chance to reply as she turned us both toward the tall, quiet woman with kind eyes who stood beside a nearby chair. "Agate, look at her. Wasn't I right? Isn't she perfect? They'll make such adorable babies!"

"Mother," Fife said as he glided through the door. "Must you?"

Then the steward of Zora released me to treat her son to a hug that looked even more crushing than the one I had received. I glanced at Bach, and he took pity on me, suppressed laughter on his lips as he took my hand and drew me closer to the tall, sedate woman on the other side of the room. "Kat, this is my mother, Lady Agate Seaward. Mother, my mate, Lady Katrina Bellflower, steward of Larkwood."

Bach's mother's eyes were hazel, rather than Bach's bright blue. She had normal highborn points to her ears, rather than Bach's fins. And her face looked nothing like his. Unlike Fife's mother, who was like a miniature copy of her son, the only features Bach and his mother had in common were their rich brown hair and their impressive height. But there was something in her bearing and her expression as she regarded me that said Bach was definitely her son.

"Lady Bellflower," she said with a small, amused smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I hope my son has been fulfilling his new duties well?"

I prayed to all the old ones to please keep me from blushing. Because yes, Bach had been fulfilling all of his new duties very well indeed. I cleared my throat and plastered on a polite smile. "The pleasure is all mine, Lady Seaward." How I managed not to bark a laugh at my unintended double meaning, I will never know. "Your son is a good man, and a wonderfully competent co-steward." I glanced around the room to include the rest of my mates as well. "They all are."

Fife disentangled himself from his mother's embrace, and they came over to the sitting area to join us, arm-in-arm. "Of course they are," she cooed. "Our boys are the finest males in all of Larkwood!" She glanced over her shoulder as if looking for someone, and her smile grew even brighter when her eyes landed on Mirri lurking in the doorway. "Mirri, dear!" Her green eyes landed on Mirri's exposed wings as he approached the group, and she released Fife to go smother my sweet auburn-haired mate. "You look especially lovely today," she beamed. "I'm glad to see the change of scenery agrees with you."

She clearly meant the open display of his wings and the soft, easy smile on his face. And I instantly loved her for it. Mirri's own parents had been dismayed that Mirri was allowed to be himself. Whereas Fife's mother seemed genuinely overjoyed.

"I'm sure she didn't introduce herself before she attacked you," Fife said with a shake of his head and a wry, fond, smile. "May I formally introduce you to—"

His mother left off patting Mirri's cheek and spun around to join us again, interrupting Fife's polite speech. "Lady Merriweather Nightingale, steward of Zora and all that, yes, yes, dear." She beamed up at me, all softness and beauty and far too much exuberance for one person to hold inside. "We've met many times, though not recently, and not nearly as often as I wish we had." She took my hand again and squeezed it. "Lady Rose was one of my favorite people. She was a wonderful steward who always had the best interests of her people in mind. If she chose you as her heir, then that means she saw the same traits in you. I'm so happy to call you family, Lady Katrina."

I blinked away the unexpected tears that had sprung to my eyes. "Thank you," I murmured. "Lady Rose always spoke highly of you. And I recall your kindness and patience with her awkward stepchild. You never treated me differently because of the shape of my ears, the way some nobles did. It is good to see you again, Lady Merriweather. But given that we are family now, you can just call me Kat."

She squeezed my hand again. "As long as you do me the same favor and call me Merry. Or Bird. That's what my dearest friends like to call me."

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