Epilogue
Over the next few days, Great-Uncle Pollux’s summer house is actually starting to feel homey as Lucia, Apolline, and Petra to start adding their own personal touches the house. They’ve bought some rugs to lay down on the floor, some paintings and tapestries for the walls.
Apolline has been putting together a little shrine to Nainen, the patron goddess of Aurora, in the corner. The Auroreans say that the glimmering of Nainen’s hair is what causes the ribbons of light that dance in the night sky up there, so the statue of the goddess has little bits of glass set into her hair that make it gleam as she catches the light.
Petra has taken over much of the basement to turn it into her own personal gymnasium-slash-art studio. One half has a drawing desk, an easel, and a cabinet of paints and brushes. The other half has a punching bag, some medicine balls, and a handmade training dummy that Petra decided to name Fustigatus.
Lucia had suggested “Roland.”
For her part, Lucia invested in a nice pile of cushions to nap on beneath the sunniest window. She’s a woman of simple tastes. And, well, she is a cat.
Lucia peers up from her cushions when somebody starts knocking on the door.
She groans. She spends a minute waiting for the problem to either go away on its own or for someone else to solve it. But the knocking doesn’t stop.
“Apolline?” Lucia calls helpfully.
No answer. And the knocking doesn’t stop.
“Petra?”
No answer. And the knocking doesn’t stop.
She groans, pushing herself to her feet.
“I swear,” she mutters to herself. “If it’s that van Storm guy again, I’m going to scratch is face off!”
“Huh,” Lucia says as she opens the door and finds Duke Charles’ one-eyed, red-haired valet standing in the doorway. Holding a large, rather ornately-laid out fruit basket.
He polite inclines his head.
“Miss Lucia,” he says. “Good day. Lest you have forgotten, I am His Serenity’s valet, Agricola.” He inclines his head again. “I come bearing gifts.”
“That basket?” Lucia asks.
“Yes,” the Elf answers. “This very fruit basket.”
By now, Apolline and Petra have appeared in the front hall of Great-Uncle Pollux’s summer house.
Agricola favours each of them with a nod. “Miss Petra. Lady Apolline. I am here, on behalf of Her Serenity the Duchess, allow me to present this congratulatory fruit basket.”
The Goblin woman standing beside him unsubtly clears her throat.
“And,” Agricola continues, “to introduce my wife.”
The Goblin woman smiles up warmly at Lucia, Apolline, and Petra.
“Beatrix, my dear,” Agricola says. “Allow me to introduce Lucia, Apolline, and Petra. And if you would, ladies, do please allow me to introduce Beatrix. And, as for the basket, I’ll just set it down on the table, shall I?”
“Thank you, Mr. Agricola,” Apolline says.
“It’s so good to finally meet you!” Beatrix says eagerly. “Roland’s said so much about you! He’s quite taken with you, you know.”
“Uhh…” Lucia stammers.
“Oh, not like that, dear,” the Goblin woman assures her. She leans in close to Lucia and lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “Our Roland only has eyes for Celeste.”
“Uhh…” Lucia stammers.
She yelps as Beatrix takes her by the hand.
“Come on, dear,” she urges. “Give a tour! I understand you’ve started quite the renovation on this lovely old house. Show me it all!”
“Uhh…” Lucia stammers.
She glances pleadingly over at Apolline and Petra as the Goblin woman hustles her into the next room.
“I know just what this room needs!” Beatrix exclaims excitedly. “A nice, vibrant wallpaper!”
Agricola fidgets with his tie and turns apologetically to Apolline and Petra.
“Do please forgive my Beatrix,” he says. “When interior design is involved, she does tend to forget herself.”
Chapter 10
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