Chapter 8
Lark
Quiet mornings are a rarity in my life, but this morning is almost peaceful in Redcurrant Cottage. Only soft scratching from Hugo’s corner breaks the stillness. I roll over, cracking an eye open just in time to catch the troublemaking hedgehog flipping his water dish.
“Again, Hugo? Why are you worse than the kids some days?”
Hugo responds with an indignant squeak, his tiny nose twitching furiously.
“Oh, don’t start,” I tell him, swinging my legs off the bed and stretching before padding across the creaky wooden floor. “I’m not your servant, you know.”
The prickly little bastard lets out a grumbly grunt as I scoop up the overturned bowl and refill it from the pitcher.
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
More squeaks. Extra sass.
“Hold your quills, I’m getting there,” I mutter, opening the tightly sealed container atop the dresser and dropping three of the little wrigglers he likes so much into the second dish.
He digs into the fresh food with all the grace of a drunken squirrel.
“I’ve got enough chaos without you staging protests because you can’t learn patience. ”
While he finishes his meal, I cross the room to the other occupant. “Morning, Happy.”
In her crib, Eevi rubs at her face and begins a soft stream of nonsensical chatter.
“Glad to see you back to your usual happy self, baby girl. Forgotten all about the big scary princess yelling at you, haven’t you?” I smooth her curls while she babbles back at me. “She’s not so scary, is she? Just confused. And loud. Do you think all royals are that loud? Probably.”
Eevi’s only response is to poke my cheek with her pudgy finger and blink at me with those big, wide eyes. When this girl starts talking in earnest, I have a feeling she’ll be able to talk us into anything. As if she doesn’t have us all wrapped around her little finger already.
Hugo is finished by the time I’ve got clothes on Eevi and myself, so I escort him to my pocket where he usually spends the days sleeping after his wild nights of scurrying around my room.
“Everyone set?”
Hugo squeaks from my pocket, which makes the toddler in my arms giggle.
“Understood. I won’t be saving any damsels in distress today, don’t worry.
Can you blame me, though? She looked so stunned, like a kitten in a thunderstorm.
I bet no one’s ever spoken to her like that.
They probably broke her brain; that’s why she was so rude to us.
” I chuckle, so of course Happy giggles along with me.
“I just wish I knew what she thinks she’s doing here. Makes no sense.”
I’m rambling, but at least my captive audience of two can’t tell anyone what I say.
More babbling from one. An extra squeak from the other.
“I know, I know,” I murmur. “We had a job, we did it, that’s it. If she’s desperate enough to disguise herself as one of us, then she must have a drowning good reason.”
Something doesn’t sit right.
“I guess I’ll keep her secret. None of my business, right?”
Hugo lets out a chirp from my pocket, and I roll my eyes.
“Oh, don’t act so noble. You’d sell her out for a bowl of grubs.”
Eevi shifts as the rising murmur of voices filters through the cottage walls.
“Yep. That’s our cue.”
I wish all our days could start in such comfort, but soon our funds will run low and it’ll be time to set out again.
The life of a traveling acting troupe is never settled.
Fresh performances and fresh audiences are where the coin is.
If I’m honest, the need to keep moving is a constant itch under my skin.
If we stop for too long, we’ll go broke, and I don’t need any reminders of why I can’t let that happen.
The main living area shows signs of life, with Katja reading at the table while Aili and Helkki chatter across from her and the smell of something faintly herbal lingers in the air.
The wooden beams overhead give the place a snug feel, and the mismatched chairs around the table are as well-loved as the kids sprawled across them.
Aili looks up as I enter. “We’re hungry.”
“Well, good morning to you, too.” I arch an eyebrow. “I’m sure breakfast will be here soon.”
“Sure hope so,” my little grump mutters.
“Wow, such faith in me.” I shift Eevi to my other arm. “Good thing I don’t take it personally.”
In the corner, settled deep in the big wingback chair, Mikael silently sips his tea. I ruffle Aili’s hair as I pass by, just to see her swat at me with that adorable frown.
“The twins?” I ask Mika as I pass Eevi to his welcoming lap.
“Still sleeping.”
Ah, adolescents. The boys are in that growth stage where they can never get enough food or enough sleep.
It’s only recently that Mika became a morning person as he finally aged out of that adolescent need to have nightly comas.
I’m grateful to have him up and able to take Eevi for a bit so I can go start my coffee.
Need coffee.
“I started the pot,” says Mika’s low rumble, and I turn back to him.
Grabbing the young man’s face in both my hands, I smack a big kiss to his forehead.
“You, Mikael Sokki, are my favorite. Don’t tell the others!
” My declaration is at full volume, and Mika only rolls his eyes.
“A saint walks among us!” I announce to the cottage, then I go fill the largest mug I can find with sweet, life-giving coffee.
The noise level rises as the cozy room comes alive, and I glance around, taking it all in. The worn rugs, the uneven floorboards, the faded plaid curtains… it’s not much, but it’s warm. It’s safe. It’s ours for now.
We’ll enjoy the peace while we can.
“Helkki, stop licking the spoon and putting it back in the sugar bowl!” Katja’s voice cuts through the calm.
Or not.
“I wasn’t licking it,” Helkki singsongs, the picture of innocence. “I was taste-testing!”
“That’s the definition of licking it!”
“Ew,” Aili shrieks. “Helkki’s gross.”
“Fear me!” Helkki yells, brandishing the spoon like a sword as she leaps down from her chair to chase Aili.
“Hey, hey, breakfast will be here soon,” I call over the clatter of the chair falling over. “Try not to riot before then.”
The noise is finally enough to drag the twins into the room, Juani bringing his pillow with him. He heads directly for the low sofa. “Why are any of you awake?” he groans. “This time should be illegal. I’m calling the sentries on all of you.”
“Don’t even joke, Juho,” Katja snaps, and Juani responds with a muffled groan that might be swearing. Whatever he says is drowned out by Aili’s yelling and a Hellion war cry as the two girls charge by on a sugar chase.
“Drown me,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair before straightening my ever-present hat. “This is how people lose their sanity, Hugo.”
A chirp from my pocket. He agrees.
“Sweet nectar, thy name is coffee.” I swallow down several gulps and start on Eevi’s breakfast. The shouting ramps up a few more notches, but a knock at the door stops me before I can step in.
“Oh, thank the Deep. Breakfast!” I say loudly, ignoring the ongoing battle and scooping up Eevi again as I pass Mika on my way to the door. Maybe food will distract the other beasties from killing each other while I get this one fed.
But when I open the door, it is most decidedly not delicious breakfast that greets me.