By the time they crested the hill overlooking the estate, the sun had just begun to lower over the valley. The manor stood bathed in the last light of the day, its tall tower and grey stone walls ablaze over the fields. The returning column moved at a measured pace—tired, wounded, but intact.

  Aldric rode ahead with a dozen freedfolk in the ox-pulled wagon behind his mount. As they approached a small collection of old barns and huts on the edge of the outer fields, he drew rein.

  He turned in the saddle to face them.

  "This is yours now," he said. "It’s not much yet, but it’s dry and sheltered. I’ll see that food and tools are brought by midday tomorrow. There will be work, and there will be fair coin. You kept your promise with us. That counts for something, and we will keep ours."

  The freedfolk nodded quietly, expressions wary but hopeful.

  Mirelle stepped forward, eyes scanning the buildings. "We’ll make it a home. We know how."

  Aldric gave a short nod, then turned and returned to the column that moved toward the manor.

  Word had already reached the household.

  As the column neared the great gates, staff began to gather along the drive. Gardeners, grooms, and housemaids peered around corners. The steward stood stiff and straight at the door, eyes scanning the soldiers. Behind him, the household waited.

  Lady Seraphine stepped onto the steps, her expression composed but tight with worry. She scanned the faces in the returning party and then stepped forward quickly as she saw her husband.

  Eldric dismounted and walked up the path.

  She didn’t speak until he was close enough to touch. "You’re late."

  He raised an eyebrow. "But returned, as promised."

  She placed a hand gently on his chest and let out the breath she’d been holding. "And unbroken."

  Aldric arrived moments later, helping one of the wounded soldiers from his saddle. Several maids rushed forward with blankets and trays of water. Others moved to gather the injured Captain Verrault.

  "My lady," said the steward, bowing. "The house is prepared. The west wing has been readied for the wounded."

  Lady Seraphine nodded and turned to her son. "And you? Are you well?"

  Aldric smiled faintly. "Better now."

  The staff, now fully mobilized, began fussing over them. Lord Eldric was gently guided toward a chair on the veranda, where warm cloths and steaming tea were waiting. Aldric was pressed with clean water and fresh towels.

  A moment later, the butler approached with a practiced bow. "My lords, your rooms have been prepared. A hot bath awaits, and fresh clothing has been laid out. Your armor and weapons will be taken for cleaning and repair. Dinner will be served as soon as you are ready."

  Two footmen gently relieved Lord Eldric of his sword belt, while another took Aldric’s travel-stained gear. The servants guided them each toward the inner halls, feet padding quietly on the cool stone floors.

  Through the bustle, none of them noticed the girl peeking from behind the stone archway on the upper hall.

  Lisette watched it all from the shadows, practically vibrating with anticipation.

  They were home. Safe. “It will be perfect,” she thought, “once they are clean and fed, it will be time.”

  Almost ready, she thought, grinning as she slipped back into the corridor.

  Tonight, her surprise would begin.

  …

  The long, vaulted dining hall flickered with candlelight and the steady glow of a single hearth at the far end. Dark oak beams crossed the ceiling overhead, and the evening’s meal—a modest but well-prepared roast boar with herb-glazed root vegetables—had already been served on silver platters.

  Lord Eldric sat at the head of the table, straight-backed and contemplative. To his immediate right sat Lady Seraphine, poised as ever, her expression calm but observant. Across from her, on Lord Eldric’s left side, sat their children: Aldric nearest his father, and Lisette beside him, clearly struggling to contain her energy.

  Halfway through the meal, Lord Eldric set down his goblet, his voice even but deliberate. “Seraphine,” he said, “may I ask that the steward join us this evening? There is a matter that cannot wait until morning.”

  Lady Seraphine folded her hands in her lap, her gaze never leaving his. “Of course, my lord. If it concerns the good of the household, we’ll make time for it—even now.”

  A servant quietly bowed and exited the room.

  The clinking of utensils resumed. Conversation softened. A few minutes passed before the doors opened again and the steward entered.

  He was a tall man, silver-haired though not yet old, with sharp features and steady eyes that had grown accustomed to reading rooms before speaking. He carried the air of someone who knew the weight of records, rotas, and quiet decisions made behind closed doors.

  “Master Baelric,” Lord Eldric greeted him with a nod. “Thank you for joining us.”

  “Always at your service, my lord,” Baelric replied, bowing respectfully.

  Lord Eldric looked at Aldric.

  Aldric set his fork down with a quiet clink and met Baelric’s eyes. “Master Baelric, there are twelve free persons who have recently settled in the old hamlet near the north woods.”

  Baelric’s brow lifted slightly, but he remained silent.

  Aldric continued, tone clear and measured. “They are to be provided with food—enough for twelve—delivered twice weekly. Continue until you hear otherwise. They will also require basic tools: axes, spades, and whetstones. Deliver what we have in surplus.”

  “Understood,” Baelric said.

  “Then speak with them directly,” Aldric added. “Find out what more they need. I want to foster goodwill. We’ll see how productive they can be.”

  Baelric gave a crisp nod. “I will see to it personally.”

  Aldric leaned back slightly, his tone sharpening. “Their leader is a woman—Mirelle. She speaks for the others. You’ll find her measured, but watchful. Speak with her directly. Find out what more they require. I want them treated respectfully. Let’s see how useful they can be—to the estate and the realm.”

  Baelric gave a small, respectful bow. “Mirelle. I’ll make a note of it. I will see to their needs personally.”

  As the steward turned to leave, Lady Seraphine’s voice, soft but unmistakably curious, halted him.

  “Twelve people, settling in a long-abandoned village,” she said. “I admit, I’m intrigued. And their leader is a woman? That’s uncommon. Who are they, exactly? Where did you find them?”

  Aldric glanced at his mother, then at his father, and then back to her again. “That,” he said, “is better left for another time. It’s not the sort of tale suited to a meal.”

  Lady Seraphine raised a brow but let a faint smile play at her lips. “Very well. I’ll expect the full story soon.”

  Baelric bowed once more, preparing to withdraw.

  But just before he reached the doors, Lord Eldric spoke again, his voice low and firm. “Baelric.”

  The steward turned at once. “Yes, my lord?”

  “Please see me in my office at first light,” Eldric said, not bothering to raise his voice. “There are… a few items I need sent quietly to the Tower Archives. Discretion is paramount.”

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  Baelric inclined his head, expression unreadable. “Understood, my lord. I will see to it personally.”

  The steward exited without another word, and a brief silence lingered like smoke in his wake.

  Dinner resumed—but only briefly—before Lisette broke the quiet again.

  “Mother, would you like more carrots? They’re especially good tonight.”

  Lady Seraphine gave her daughter a measured look. “No, thank you, Lisette.”

  “Father? Aldric? Are you sure you’re full?”

  Lord Eldric arched a brow. “Lisette.”

  “What?” she said, her voice too high and too quick. “I’m just being attentive.”

  Aldric didn’t even bother looking at her. “She has something planned.”

  “I do not!” Lisette snapped, nearly knocking over her goblet as she leaned forward.

  “You’re twitching,” Aldric said coolly. “You always twitch when you’re waiting for something.”

  “I’m not twitching.”

  “You’re vibrating.”

  Lisette crossed her arms and glared at him. “You’re just trying to ruin it.”

  “Absolutely,” Aldric said, smirking. “In fact, I’d like to draw this dinner out as long as possible.”

  Lord Eldric chuckled low under his breath, and Lady Seraphine fought a smile of her own. Lisette huffed and turned back to her plate, stabbing at a carrot with unnecessary force.

  “You’ll regret this,” she muttered under her breath.

  “I’m counting on it,” Aldric replied, calmly cutting into his Boar.

  The flames in the hearth cast long shadows against the stone walls, and despite the steward’s visit, the strange new settlers, and whatever mischief Lisette had brewing, the meal pressed on with the kind of comfort only a family with shared history and subtle games could enjoy.

  Once dinner had finally come to a blessed end—delayed by Aldric with deliberate, drawn-out conversation and extra helpings of dessert—Lisette nearly leapt from her chair.

  “Finally!” she exclaimed, her voice echoing off the high stone walls. “You’ll all ruin the surprise if you dawdle!”

  Without waiting for anyone, she flew down the east hallway, her slippers barely making a sound on the tiled ground. Her excitement was palpable, contagious even, though no one moved quite as quickly.

  The rest of the family followed at a more measured pace. Lord Eldric walked with his hands behind his back, Lady Seraphine gliding beside him, her long gown brushing the walls. Aldric followed, smirking quietly to himself.

  At the end of the hall stood the boys’ room—ordinarily tidy, modest, and undisturbed. But tonight, the door was firmly closed. Standing like a sentinel before it was Merra, Lisette’s ever-loyal maid. She gave a brief, knowing nod as the family approached.

  Lisette stopped just short of the door and glanced at Merra. “Is the room still secure?” she asked, a hint of conspiratorial urgency in her voice.

  Merra’s expression was calm and steady. “It is, my lady. No one will disturb your performance.”

  Lisette’s eyes gleamed. “Excellent.”

  Lady Seraphine smiled quietly, and Lord Eldric raised an eyebrow, clearly curious.

  Lisette then turned dramatically to face them all. “Now,” she said in a voice filled with theatrical gravity, “you are about to witness something extraordinary.”

  She seized the door handle with exaggerated flair and, with a loud click, flung it open.

  “Welcome to the show!”

  The room had been transformed—or perhaps more accurately, upturned. Chairs had been pulled from other rooms and arranged at the end of the boys’ bed, forming a small audience row. Draped from the high bedposts, a heavy woolen blanket hung down and curved inward, shielding the space atop the bed entirely from view, as though someone—or something—was hidden beneath it, waiting behind a curtain for their cue. The folds of the blanket billowed slightly where it met the coverlet, forming an impromptu stage shroud.

  But it was the sheer volume of things that truly stole attention.

  Lemons—at least a dozen—had been lined up on the windowsill and across the dresser like yellow sentries. Empty baskets of various shapes and sizes were piled at odd angles in corners, one with a long-stemmed quill sticking out of it like a forgotten relic. A silver gravy boat gleamed atop a stack of books, balanced perilously close to a pillow fort that seemed to serve no functional purpose. One of Aldric’s fencing gloves hung from the corner of a coat rack that had been moved beside the hearth, and streamers of ribbon, some frayed, some fresh, ran from chair backs to candle sconces like banners for a festival no one remembered planning.

  A small painted stool held a cracked mirror reflecting the flickering candlelight, and nearby, a ladle, a toy soldier, and a crushed velvet cushion sat arranged as if they had a secret role to play in the performance.

  Lady Seraphine blinked, but smiled. Lord Eldric crossed his arms and tilted his head as though trying to divine some order in the chaos. Aldric simply muttered, “What… happened here?”

  Lisette swept in front of them like a master of ceremonies, her arms extended far too wide, her posture regal, her excitement practically vibrating from her fingertips.

  “Dear family,” she began, “noble guests of this house, gathered here on this historic night! You have the honor of witnessing an event—no, a spectacle—unlike anything this noble estate has ever seen!”

  She pivoted on her heel and continued, her voice rising as she gestured wildly to the many items around her. “Every object you see has a purpose. Every lemon, every basket, every magnificent spoon! All chosen! All deliberate! All essential to the show you are about to behold!”

  Lord Eldric glanced at the silver gravy boat. “That explains everything.”

  “Shhh,” Seraphine whispered, smiling.

  Lisette’s monologue continued with the unwavering conviction of a performer who had waited all day to be onstage.

  “You shall be amazed. You shall be enchanted! What I am about to achieve will leave you breathless! Gasping! Laughing! Crying! Tonight, you shall forget the world beyond this room and lose yourselves in the magic of imagination, as revealed by none other than the brilliant—no, radiant—Lisette of House—well, me!”

  She gave a deep, overly theatrical bow. Then popped back up. “And now, prepare yourselves. Prepare your hearts, your minds, and your senses. The show shall begin momentarily!”

  Aldric leaned close to his father and said under his breath, “Five minutes of buildup. I think she’s still warming up.”

  “She’s her mother’s daughter,” Eldric murmured.

  Lady Seraphine gave him a sidelong glance. “You say that like it’s a warning.”

  Lisette pointed a dramatic finger into the air. “And now, with no further delay—after this brief introduction—you will witness the amazing ability of Lisette !”

  She paused, struck a pose, and declared, as her maid lifted the sheet off the boy, who was in a new shirt and propped up with pillows, with small household items surrounding him on the bed.

  The maid quickly sits in the chair next to Lady Seraphine with anticipation.

  Seeing that Lady Seraphine asked, “Do you not know what is coming?” “No, My Lady, I was only asked to guard the room,” she replied.

  Lisette stepped forward, arms raised, as if calling upon ancient powers or invisible stagehands. The soft glow of the single hearth behind the audience cast her shadow large against the wall, heightening her already overblown presence.

  She cleared her throat with a seriousness that, for a moment, made even Lord Eldric sit a little straighter.

  “Dearest family,” she began in a solemn tone, “before your eyes tonight is not merely a tale of whimsy and wonder, but a story of courage, of resilience, of brotherhood and—” she turned her face slightly, allowing the firelight to catch a false glimmer of tears in her eye, “—of miracle.”

  Lady Seraphine placed a gloved hand lightly over her mouth, managing not to laugh.

  Lisette turned slightly toward the draped bed, one hand outstretched, her voice carrying the reverence of a priestess and the pomp of a parade.

  “Three weeks ago,” she said slowly, pacing, “my darling brother fell ill—struck down by a terrible, mysterious affliction, unknown to our finest minds and most caring hearts.”

  She paused for effect, letting the moment hang.

  “By great strength, determination, and perhaps destiny, he survived the fever. But alas…” Her hand swept to the curtained bed. “...he has not spoken since. Nor walked. A cruel price to pay for life.”

  There was a brief silence, broken only by the crackle of the hearth.

  “But fear not!” she cried, her voice leaping a full octave as she turned to her audience, “For where medicine falters—Lisette prevails!”

  She spun back toward the bed, stepping closer, her voice suddenly gentle and intimate.

  “Brother?” she said softly. “Are you ready?”

  She waited a beat, then nodded encouragingly.

  “You are truly magnificent, you know. So patient, so brilliant. I daresay far more cooperative than Aldric ever is when I have plans. Honestly, if I could trade—well, I won’t say it aloud. Mother’s watching.”

  Seraphine smirked behind her fan. Aldric let out a faint snort.

  Lisette clasped her hands dramatically. “You, my sweet brother, are the heart of this evening’s miracle. You are my star, my muse, my secret weapon!”

  She turned on her heel, now facing the assembled audience, her voice loud and resolute:

  “Now—be amazed!”

  And with that, she stepped aside and pointed to the draped bed, holding the pose as if she were presenting a royal heir.

  The room held its breath.

  Even Aldric had to admit—she had flair.