It was the rainy season now in Greydock Town, the wind roared in solemn rhythm. Cold droplets tapped against rooftops. But within the Grantham cottage, warmth ruled — laughter bounced in the room.
The evening glowed.The aroma of hot tea and honey filled the space, under the gentle movements of a family gathered close.
Maeryn sat cross-legged on the armrest of the old couch, twirling a spoon with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You should've seen the way Elowen turned beet red when Lady Abena called her 'the Lady of the Devil.'"
Elowen groaned. "Can we please not bring that up again?"
Marianne chuckled from the hearth. "That might be my favorite nickname so far."
Leo, already on his third scone, raised his brows. "You should be flattered. The Devil of Eldhollow doesn't look at people for more than a second, and yet—"
"I hear he looks at you like he wants to devour you," Maeryn finished with a theatrical gasp.
