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“Well, as soon as possible, now that you are here. Come inside, I will prepare some breakfast and you can settle in. I suspect you will want a hot bath.”

The men took the horses to the paddock while the sisters went to the house, Colette pointing out the property’s features.

“The fish pond was here already, and we bought three goldfish at the markets last week. Aren’t they cute? And a metallurgist in Port Hyacinth made the doorbell. It is enchanted to play a unique tune for every person who uses it. See?” She pressed the ornate brass button and a spirited melody chimed inside the house. “Try it.”

Amelie pressed the button, causing the melody to change. At first, she could not place it, but it was definitely familiar. The chiming ended and she pressed the button again, listening.

Then, it dawned on her. The melody was an excerpt of the music that Davron played on the piano the night they first made love. She sighed at the bittersweetness of the realization. How on earth was she supposed to forget about him?

Colette touched her arm. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. I like the melody, is all.”

“Yours is lovely,” she agreed. “I have never heard anything like it.”

The house’s interior was as cozy and warm as their old cottage, only far more expansive and plush. The sitting room was separate from the dining room, which was separate again from the kitchen, complete with a stocked butler’s pantry and larder.

Despite the new comforts, the house had a lived-in quality. Raphael’s boots sat by the door, Colette’s needlepoint lay on a stack of books on a side table, and the kitchen counters were populated with spice pots and jars of preserves and vases overflowing with fresh flowers.

Amelie placed her satchel on a console in the kitchen and gave a sharp intake of breath.

A mirror was attached to the top of the console. She stared open-mouthed at her reflection, having not seen herself in a mirror since leaving for Castle Grange. It was the most peculiar feeling, to look at herself again—like running headlong into an old friend unexpectedly.

Colette had been right. She did seem changed. Amelie turned her face left and right, trying to put her finger on how, exactly.

“Your eyes,” said her sister, appearing behind Amelie in the mirror and studying her face. “I think it’s your eyes. They have new depths to them.”

Amelie stared into her own brown eyes, trying to see these new depths and failing. Perhaps such a change was impossible to discern yourself. Or, maybe the difference was not perceptible on the physical plane at all—rather, could be sensed only by those who knew us well.

Colette tied an apron around her waist, then disappeared into the pantry and brought out a pink-frosted cake on a stand.

“Honey-saffron cake with rosewater icing,” she said proudly. “For our breakfast. Philomene gave me the recipe.”

“Cake for breakfast. Well, why not?” asked Amelie, moving to the kitchen counter. “I will make tea.”

Colette set the table with fine new crockery and laid out the cake. Amelie was pouring tea when Raphael and Marcel entered the house through the back.

“So, what do you think of the new abode?” asked Raphael as he accepted a slice of cake from Colette. “Up to your standards?”

“I love it,” said Amelie. “It feels like home. Although, that is probably because of the people who live in it,” she added with a smile. “I have missed being with the three of you so much.”

Her siblings exchanged uneasy glances. She frowned, wondering what she could have said to cause a negative reaction. Colette and Raphael were engaged in a silent conversation using only their eyebrows.

“Out with it,” said Amelie with a sigh. “I know you all far too well for subterfuge. What is the matter?”

“Nothing,” said Colette in a rush. “Nothing is wrong. Only, I am glad you like the house. It is your home now, after all, and I hope you will be happy here.”

Amelie shook her head, mystified. “Alright?”

Raphael interjected. “Well, Colette will leave for Ennisfall with Laughlin after their wedding. They’ll live on the estate belonging to his father’s side of the family.”

In all the excitement, Amelie had not paused to wonder where Colette and Laughlin would live once married. Perhaps part of her did not wish to know. Not yet, anyway. She had only just arrived back.

Marcel stirred his tea. “And Raphael accepted another post with the royal guard. A promotion. He will leave for the capital after the wedding. As will I, because I have a position on the crew of a merchant ship. I must report to Port Hyacinth before the new moon.”

Amelie fidgeted with her silver cake fork, taking this all in. “Well, that’s lovely news. Congratulations to both of you. The royal guard and the ship’s captain are lucky to have you.” She paused. “It’s wonderful, truly. I’m so pleased.”

There was another long silence. Amelie wished she could convince them she was perfectly alright with this news. But at this point, she knew anything she said would have the opposite effect. So, she arranged a serene expression on her face and ate her cake, which was delicious.