The scent of roasted figs and honeyed bread reached Elysia before the knock. Her stomach stirred to life with the urgency of a small, indignant dragon, growling for attention.
She blinked up from the chaise, nestled beneath the heavy blanket Malvoria had draped over her, and blinked toward the soft morning light slipping through the velvet curtains.
Kaelith was still asleep in her crib, swaddled in a storm of blankets and faint flickers of violet flame.
A suspicious curl of smoke rose from her hair. That, Elysia decided with a wry smile, was definitely Malvoria's doing.
The knock came again no, more like an intrusion. It was the sort of knock that didn't ask to be answered. It announced its arrival like a trumpet blast.
Then the door opened. Of course it did.
"I brought breakfast!" declared Veylira, striding in like a conquering general.
