Arm in arm, Cresseida and Cin strode down the grand staircase.
"I wish I could stay longer," Cresseida pouted, "but I am needed at home."
"Oh, I know," Cin sympathized, patting her friend's hand. Cresseida's visits were always bittersweet, squeezed between long periods of absence. Most of their communication was done through letters, leaving little reason to interrupt their routines to see each other. But Cin cherished every moment they had together. "I'll wait for your letter informing me of your betrothal."
"You and Viv both." Cresseida's singsong laugh echoed in the foyer as they stepped onto the checkered floor.
"How is Vivianne doing?" Tamlin appeared in the foyer as he strode from the narrow passageway to the side of the large oak doors, accompanied by Kenai and Castor, who vied for his attention.
"Her hands are full, as always, with their son," Cresseida replied diplomatically.
Cin had become fast friends with Cresseida and Aravi, but Vivianne was harder to impress.
When the High Lord and his Lady had visited the Spring Court with a delegation of winter court sentries, the flowers had spent the entire week listening to their complaints about the weather and the man who ruled over the region. The visit had ended with a promise of friendship between Spring and Winter, but the two courts still had a long way to go.
"She's annoyed that the Priestesses won't swear her in as High Lady," Cresseida added, clasping her hands against her belly as she gave the High Lord of Spring a questioning look. Cin knew that Vivianne's desire for the title was not driven by vanity, but by a desire for recognition of the feats she'd accomplished while Kallias was trapped Under the Mountain. It was well-deserved, but unfortunately out of her reach.
Tamlin forced a smile, a gesture that only Cin could see through. "Vivianne should leave them be. Her grief is with the Cauldron and the magic that governs the Winter Court."
Cresseida's lip curled into a menacing smile, and Cin could read the question on her face before she even asked it. She quickly squeezed the Princess of Summer's hand and said, "Well, Princess, are you ready to go? I'm sure your work in Summer has waited long enough."
Cresseida's eyes flickered to Cin's, and she chuckled under her breath before nodding. "I am as ready as I'll ever be."
At her word, the two sentries and two ladies' maids straightened their stances in the large open area between the two curved staircases. Lining up as Tamlin had instructed, they prepared to be winnowed to the warm, salty Summer Court.
As Cin pulled Cresseida into an embrace, Abina dashed into the foyer, weaving between the assembled line, and threw her arms around Cin and Cresseida. All three women erupted into laughter.
Abina stepped back and held up a small leather pouch, about the size of her palm. "It's gioia. For your blues," she said.
Cresseida's eyes softened, filled with an inner glow, as she gazed at the healer. "You remembered."
"Of course, I did. It just took a little longer to put together," Abina replied, pulling Cresseida into a second embrace. She saw a slight shimmer of a tear in Cresseida's eye. Despite her strong and bubbly exterior, the wounds of her city sometimes left her unable to get out of bed. It had happened once while they had been friends, and how convenient that Cin's visit to Summer had coincided with Cresseida's episode of her blues.
Abina stepped back again, and Cresseida blinked away the tear. Gratitude shone on her face like a beacon in the dark. She turned to Cin. "Send me a letter the moment your seamstress returns. I want to know everything you're planning, okay?"
Cin squeezed her hand once, twice, and then promised, "I will, Princess. You have my word that I will keep you updated."
Cresseida laughed and released Cin's hand to take her position beside Tamlin. Abina moved closer to Cin, offering comfort. She wasn't losing Cresseida, but it was always bittersweet to part with her.
Tamlin offered his hand to the Princess of Summer, who took a steadying breath and then grasped his hand. They were gone in an instant, sucked into an abyss that would spit them out on Tarquin's Island in the Bay of Adriata.
"Are you all right?" Abina asked, peering over at Cin, who was gazing at the emptied foyer.
Straightening her shoulders, Cin inhaled deeply, then nodded. "Kenai, bring the next delegation, will you? Tamlin should be back in a few minutes, and he'll want to get the representatives home as soon as possible. Leave Lady Freda of Orchis until last. He'll be returning with the children."
Kenai bowed his head slightly before turning on his heel and hopping up the stairs. Although they had hired Vixra to be the Usher, Kenai still did most of the running around.
Cin turned to Castor. "Are the rooms ready?"
"They are, my Lady," Castor replied as they made their way back up the staircase, Abina in step with Cin. "Lady Oleanna sent four nursemaids. Shee said they were already trained. So when the children are sent to Surfinia, the nursemaids will accompany them. The maids will be a fixed point for them."
"And what of the nursemaids' dispositions?" Cin asked, turning to lead them up the second staircase. They had chosen four rooms in the back guest wing of the Mansion. The rooms were in the same hallway as a small hall, and each room had an adjacent bathroom.
"Well," he sighed, "they're as cheery as they can be, my Lady, given their training and what they're here to do."
"What do you mean?" Abina asked, tilting her head in confusion as they paused atop the second landing.
"They're trained to deal with war veterans."
"Castor, they're just children, not sentries," Cin exclaimed, rolling her eyes as she strode towards the third hallway that led to the walkway connecting the guest wing to the Mansion. "I can't believe Oleanna messed up the one thing I asked."
Castor stepped into her path, his blue skin paler than usual. "My Lady," he said, "they are survivors of war."
Cin stopped halfway across the glass walkway and frowned at him, her brows furrowing deeply. Castor proceeded to recount the story of how Tamlin had sent children to safety Under The Mountain after he made his deal with Hybern and personally hid those who couldn't make it to the Doors.
When the Spring Court fell and the Summer Court took in their refugees, the eighty-seven children Tamlin had hidden in Spring were sent to Summer's High Lord Tarquin, who had them sent to Adriata to keep them as far away from the border as possible. But the city was attacked, and the orphanage they were staying at was among the many razed buildings in Adriata. Three years later, only ten of those eighty-seven children had been found living on the streets of the still-ruined slums.
Those children had witnessed the fall of Spring, been ripped from their families, and thrust into a foreign city. They had watched that foreign city burn down around them and then had been forced to survive on those ruined streets for three long years, with the youngest among them only now five years of age. For the little one, war is all she knows. They weren't children anymore; they were war survivors.
Cin swallowed hard and said, "Okay, take me to the nursemaids."
Four of Lady Oleanna's best nursemaids, meaning "well-trained," were waiting for them in the small hall, nicknamed the Bronze Room for all the bronze finery decorating it. Cin had yet to decide what to do with the room, as it was too deep in the Mansion to host day visitors and too remote to host anyone who never stayed longer than a few days. She had even considered gifting it to the staff to host their own parties. However, Castor had shown her that the staff had their own hall and were content with it.
The mere thought of the staffing wing having its hall reminded Cin of how enormous the Mansion had become. Tamlin had focused on the larger aspects of the Mansion during the reconstruction, like its different wings. Sometimes, it still amazed her how much he had accomplished on his own.
"Good morning, ladies. I'm sorry for keeping you waiting," Cin greeted them warmly. She had wanted to see Cresseida off before meeting with them, but it had taken longer than she had anticipated.
"Not at all, my Lady," a yellow-skinned fae woman stepped forward. Cin noticed her voluptuous and bouncy ruby-red curls that cascaded down her waist, held back by gold ribbons tied in sections. It was her bright, citrine-colored eyes that captured Cin's attention, and the way they sparkled when she introduced herself. "My name is Poppy, my Lady."
Cin acknowledged Poppy's introduction with a polite nod and then flickered her gaze towards the tall, onyx-eyed woman beside her. She stepped forward, tucking her unbound, sleek brown hair behind her slightly pointed ears. "Clove, my Lady."
Before Cin had a chance to acknowledge Clove's introduction, the third woman stepped forward. Her brown dress billowed around her like a cloud of smoke, wearing the kindest smile Cin had ever seen on a fae, human, or monster. Her orange skin reminded Cin so much of the Ittisam that she fought to hold back a giggle as the woman said, "Kylia, my Lady."
Kylia's voice was strong and playful, and Cin thought she would be best suited to work with the most withdrawn of the children. Her energy would rekindle whatever flames had been doused by the wars.
"And I am Maggie, my Lady," the final woman said, her deep brown eyes burning with determination. Cin had no idea whether it was to prove herself or to do her duty.
"Thank you all for coming today and dedicating your lives to these children," Cin said, ensuring she held each of their gazes before gesturing to Castor and Abina. "Castor, I am sure you have already met, is our Steward. And this is Abina, our healer. In time, she will be our head healer, but for now, she manages our ailments on her own."
Cin allowed everyone a moment to exchange glances and nods before continuing, "Were you informed of your assignments here?"
"Yes, my Lady," Poppy said, her smile holding strong despite the ominous cloud looming overhead. "Castor was kind enough to show us the rooms as well. What we don't know is who will be assigned to which of the children."
Cin gestured to the darkwood table, situated closer to the center of the Bronze Room. "That's what I'm here to find out," she said. "The children will be arriving in the next hour or so, and in the meantime, I'd like to have a chat with you."
Abina and the nursemaids followed Cin to the table and sat down on the velvet cushions of the bronze chairs placed around the twenty-seat table. Cin and Abina sat on one side, while the nursemaids sat opposite them.
Cin leaned forward and crossed her arms on the table between them. "Each of you will be assigned to a room, and the children who reside in it until you all go to Surfinia in a few weeks. Those children will be your entire world while you are in this Mansion, and possibly at the Orphanage too. They have lost everyone they know to a war they never asked for, a war they never joined, a war they tried evading but ended up in the thick of it. They will want for nothing because you will provide them with everything they require, from a second bath to a shoulder to cry on."
The nursemaids nodded in agreement as Abina sidled a little closer to Cin. This was Cin's moment to encourage, to inspire, to set boundaries with her employees, and Abina would not take it away from her, no matter how much she wished to comfort her friend.
"Everly and Maxar, our cooks, have prepared a feast of stomach-friendly food for them, to be laid out on their arrival," Cin continued. She glanced briefly at the flatware, goblets, and plates that gleamed in the flickering candlelight from the bronze candelabra at the center of the table, offset only by the sun pouring through the windows adorned with dark green velvet and sheer gold curtains. "I'm told they haven't had a decent meal in years, so the food will be...bland but nutritious until they've regained some of the strength they've lost."
"While they are eating, I'd like to match the children to your personalities, if you will," Cin said. "I need you to be able to reach these kids in a way that a stranger wouldn't. Am I making sense?"
The nursemaids nodded again, though the smiles on their faces faltered, the determination grew.
"Abina will do quick once-overs of the children before they are assigned to you, and you escort them to their rooms," Cin explained. "I had hoped to do the medical once-overs in their rooms, but after three years, the once-overs might feel invasive and they might not want it done without the rest of the group present."
"Will they be comfortable separating?" Clove asked.
"I hope so," Cin admitted. Then she gave a pointed look toward the open area in front of the mantle, situated on the far side of the room from the dining table. It was spacious, without couches and adorned only with scattered potted plants to let in a flowery scent that helped negate the metallic smell in the air, and the red and gold rugs strewn on the floor. "If not, we will need to move the beds into that area over there and have them sleep in this hall until they are comfortable enough to be separated."
"Whatever they want, they will get," Cin added. She waited once again for their affirming nods and then dove right in. "So, tell me a little bit about yourselves."