Chapter Twenty-Three #3
“That sounds great,” Tor said, trying to clear a huskiness in his throat that had absolutely nothing to do with the moisture in his eyes. “Thanks.”
Ada gave his arm one last squeeze and rose to her feet.
“Come on. I need to figure out what the children are up to.”
Var and Tor exchanged amused glances and then smiled at one another and stood up as well, as Pel joined them.
In the hallway, Tor loudly announced, “I wonder what we could possibly find to eat in this big castle.”
Everyone looked at him funny—until they heard the giggling.
(Tor had been the one to quash the plan to jump out and surprise Ada, explaining that those sorts of surprises wouldn’t be good ones right now.)
Ada grinned and played along, projecting her voice, “I don’t know, Tor. Do you think we should look for food in the bedrooms?”
Delighted giggles followed them through their nonsensical search for food until the shrieks of laughter finally drew them to the dining room and the cake and other morsels that had been made just for Ada to welcome her home.
The cake was lopsided and badly iced and had clearly been made by the children who had more than their fair share of ingredients scattered about their person.
(Stronex had a liberal dusting of flour in his hair, and Tor was never going to dislike a king who baked cakes with his kids to make Tor’s sister happy. Var could just get over it.)
Ada burst into tears and hugged them tight and told them it was the best cake she’d ever been given, and she loved them so much.
(It was overcooked on the edges and undercooked in the middle, and every person in the room ate it without complaint. Stronex looked faintly horrified and quietly promised they’d do better next time. Ada assured him it was perfect.)
Ada and Pel got along as well as Tor had thought they would. They were also united in their condemnation of him being an ass for his original plan to get out of a bond with Terila, but Tor figured he deserved it—plus it was totally worth it to see them giggling together.
It was Ada who realized Pel was still calling her Princess Adexa, which prompted an array of invitations among the whole group to use short names for one another. Var also assessed Pel’s brother and announced him King Bavex of Tond.
“Please call me Bav,” he told them promptly. “I’m not sure I’m ever going to get used to Bavex.”
Only Illustrious or Unremarkable who took the throne and became Extraordinary via Fealty changed their name in adulthood, so it was a rare occurrence.
It really did feel like a holiday, friendship and affection and a few days of only minor responsibilities for most of them…
but everything wasn’t magically fixed. Varex still looked a little hesitant as he went through doors.
Fernila flinched whenever she saw a knife.
Tor’s nightmares were still filled with not making it to his family in time.
Bav, Lara, and Pel had tucked themselves into a sitting room one evening to talk out the death of their mostly awful father.
And Ada still had a haunted look in her eyes when she wasn’t distracted by something that was happening right in front of her. But she was smiling more often, too, and nothing was as lovely as watching her play with Stronex’s children or the baby.
Cala got passed around to everyone, because there was nothing quite so comforting as cuddling an adorable baby—although that had actually gotten harder than it used to be, because Cala had taken to crawling like it was the most fun she’d ever had in her life.
She often squirmed like an eel when they were holding her until they put her down so she could explore the room on her own.
Tor started manifesting small shapes for her out of magic so that she could chase them around. Var looked exasperated—only then he started doing it, too, and soon it was a contest to see who could come up with the most interesting shape for her to scream gleefully at and crawl after.
Belatedly, he realized this was a game only Extraordinary could play, and he cast an apologetic look at Pel.
“It’s harmless, and it’s a lovely way to engage the baby,” Pel told him, squeezing his arm. “Honestly, it’s one of the best uses of Extraordinary magic that I’ve witnessed.”
Tor huffed out a breath and nodded. They’d needed to use Extraordinary magic plenty to save his family, but he had to admit that it was nicer to think of it as a gift that enabled moments like this.
Now Stronex and Ada were doing it, too. There were so many shapes for that baby to follow around that Cala was probably going to grow up thinking the world was filled with magic.
But it was irresistible. Her little face lit up with such joy when she saw them.
She even caught them occasionally—and mostly tried to shove them in her mouth.
She was not happy when they disappeared, except then someone would create another, and she’d gleefully crawl off after it.
Tor was pretty sure this was the most fun anyone in the room had had in ages. Happy babies were impossible to resist.