The kitchen of House Thorne was unusually calm, a rare pocket of peace within the sprawling mansion.
Noel stood by the counter, sleeves rolled up, carefully pouring hot water into a teapot. Steam curled upward, carrying the scent of herbs and faint vanilla. Beside him, a tray waited with several delicate cups and a plate of freshly baked cookies—round, golden, and dusted with sugar.
Down the hall, muffled laughter echoed faintly. Even through the thick stone walls, Noel could hear the distinct tones of Elyra, Charlotte, Elena, and Selene—voices that somehow filled every empty corner of the estate.
Noir, who had been napping near the bed, perked her ears at the noise. Her tail flicked once.
'They're… loud,' she murmured through their link, her tone halfway between annoyance and curiosity.
Noel smirked. "Yeah, they're probably turning my room upside down."
'Then I'm coming with you,' Noir said, standing and stretching. 'I can't rest with all that noise.'