The bathwater drained with a soft gurgle, the sound echoing against the porcelain and the stone walls of the nursery washroom.
Morwenna stood on the thick, cream-colored rug, wrapped in a fluffy white towel that was almost as large as she was.
Cinder sat on the bed behind her, his amber eyes following every movement with the unwavering attention he gave to anything involving his person. His tail twitched occasionally, brushing against the silk duvet.
Faint wisps of steam rose from Morwenna's skin, carrying the clean scent of lavender soap and the lingering warmth of her bath. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the stone floor and dark wooden furniture.
Jane knelt beside her on the rug. The towel had been warmed by the fire, and she gently pressed it against her daughter's pale skin to absorb the remaining moisture. She dried Morwenna's arms first, working from her shoulders down to her wrists, then moved on to her legs.
Morwenna stood patiently, watching her mother's hands.
"Arms up, ma chérie."
She raised both arms, and Jane pulled a soft cotton shirt over her head. It was pale blue, with short sleeves and a small pocket on the chest.
After months of wearing nothing but silk and velvet, the fabric felt light and unfamiliar against her skin. Morwenna looked down at herself, studying how the cotton held its shape instead of draping softly against her body like her usual clothes.
"It's cotton," she observed, rubbing the fabric between her thumb and forefinger to examine its weave.
"Yes, it's cotton. Most children in the mundane world wear clothes like this every day."
Morwenna tugged at the hem, watching it stretch before returning to its original shape.
"It moves."
"It does."
Jane picked up the trousers. They were light-blue denim with an elastic waistband, making them easy to pull on.
Morwenna stepped into them one leg at a time, gripping Jane's shoulder for balance.
The denim felt thicker and rougher than the shirt, a sturdy texture she had never encountered before. She ran her hands over her thighs, feeling the ridges beneath her palms.
"Now the socks."
They were white, with small pink flowers embroidered around the edges. Morwenna sat down on the rug, picked up one sock, and examined its shape before slipping it over her foot. Her brow furrowed as she carefully worked the fabric around her heel and pulled it up to her ankle.
The first sock went on without trouble.
The second was more difficult. She pulled it on, only to find the heel sitting somewhere near her ankle instead of beneath her foot.
Morwenna examined the crooked sock, then compared it with the one on her other foot. The difference was obvious.
Jane waited without interfering.
Morwenna looked at her mother, but Jane offered no answer. After another moment, the little girl turned back to her foot, grabbed the bunched fabric, and pulled the sock off completely. She set it beside her, picked it up again, and started over.
This time, she moved more slowly. Holding the opening with both hands, she positioned her toes carefully and eased the sock over her foot. Then she pulled it up, adjusted the heel, and smoothed the fabric around her ankle.
Much better.
She looked up at Jane, her expression serious but quietly pleased.
"I did it."
"You did."
The trainers were blue, with white stripes and real laces. They were nothing like the magical shoes Morwenna usually wore, which fastened with spells or silver buckles.
She picked one up and turned it over in her hands, examining every part. She squeezed the toe to test the fabric and pressed her thumb against the sole, feeling it give slightly before springing back.
"What are these?"
"Shoes for outside. For walking on pavements and grass, and all the things you haven't walked on yet."
Morwenna slipped her foot into one, but the shoe was too big. Jane had bought them that way, knowing her daughter would grow. The heel gaped, and there was plenty of space between her toes and the front.
"Too big," Morwenna said.
"You will grow into them. For now, we will practise." Jane showed her how to tighten the laces and tie them, moving her fingers slowly so Morwenna could follow each step. "Cross, loop, and pull. Cross, loop, and pull."
Once she had finished the knot, she turned the shoe toward her daughter.
Morwenna nodded, loosened the laces, and tried it herself.
The laces quickly tangled into a messy heap. She tried again, but somehow managed to make the tangle worse. A small sound escaped the back of her throat as her jaw tightened with determination. She studied the mess, glanced at Jane's hands, and then looked down at her own.
"Again," she said.
Jane watched as she tried four more times. Each attempt brought a different problem. One loop was too loose, a crossed lace slipped free, or the whole thing became tangled enough that she had to start over.
Morwenna kept her eyes on the laces, her brow furrowed and the tip of her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth. She neither looked up nor asked for help.
On the fifth attempt, the laces finally formed something resembling a bow. It was far from perfect, with one loop much larger than the other and a lumpy knot, but it held.
Morwenna examined her work before looking at her mother.
"Good," Jane said. "We will practise every day."
Morwenna nodded. She looked down at her trainers and wiggled her toes, testing how much room she had inside them and how the fabric moved with her feet. Then she stood and took three steps across the rug.
The shoes felt strange. They had a weight of their own, and they changed the way her feet met the floor.
"Different," she said.
"Yes."
She took three more steps, turning slightly to see how the shoes moved when she changed direction. Then she looked back at Jane.
"I like them."
Jane smiled. "Good."
The morning room was warm with firelight and the rich smell of breakfast. The long table had been set, but the dishes held foods Morwenna had never seen before.
A bowl of fluffy steamed rice was mixed with small pieces of brightly colored vegetables. Noodles filled a shallow dish, coated in a dark sauce that smelled of soy and something savory.
Scrambled eggs with tomatoes added splashes of red and yellow to the white porcelain plates, while a plate of small dumplings sat nearby, their wrappers slightly translucent from the steam and the filling visible beneath.
Morwenna sat in her usual chair and stared at the spread before her. She was still wearing her new trainers. She had refused to take them off.
Tilly stood beside the sideboard, his large ears twitching with barely contained excitement. He had been awake since before dawn, consulting three different cookbooks and testing recipes with the concentration of an artist at work. White flour still dusted his small hands, and a smear of dark sauce marked his apron.
"The little miss likes breakfast?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly with hope.
Morwenna looked from the rice to the noodles and then to the dumplings. She pointed at the bowl.
"What is it?"
"Rice, little miss. Steamed rice with vegetables."
She picked up her spoon. It was an ordinary metal spoon, unlike the enchanted utensils she was accustomed to using.
She scooped up a small amount of rice and held it beneath her nose, smelling the steam before cautiously touching the food with her tongue. Only then did she put the spoonful into her mouth.
She chewed slowly, her brow furrowed as she considered the unfamiliar textures. The rice was soft and slightly sticky, while the vegetables were firmer, each with its own distinct flavor.
After swallowing, she gave her verdict.
"Good."
Tilly's ears turned pink. He made a small sound before quickly suppressing it.
Seraphina sat nearby with a cup of tea, watching the scene with quiet amusement. Firelight caught the silver strands in her hair.
"The menu will change regularly from now on," she said. "Not just British food, but European, Asian, and anything else Tilly wants to try."
Jane nodded. Her own tea sat untouched in front of her.
"We need her to get used to different tastes and textures. The mundane world isn't just porridge and toast."
Morwenna had already moved on to the noodles. She picked one up with her fork, examined it, and put it in her mouth. Her eyes widened slightly. She took another bite, this time with more enthusiasm.
"Noodles," she said.
"Yes."
She ate another before pointing at the dumplings.
"What is it?"
"Dumplings. There's meat inside."
Morwenna picked one up carefully between her thumb and forefinger and took a bite. The wrapper gave way, releasing warm pork filling onto her tongue. There was a hint of ginger and a rich, savory flavor she couldn't quite identify.
She chewed thoughtfully, then reached for another.
Tilly made a small sound that might have been a sob. He clasped his hands together and watched her eat, his large eyes shining with pride.
Across the table, Seraphina caught Jane's gaze and smiled. Jane returned the smile.
Saoirse was the last to arrive. Her hair was still damp from her shower, and she wore a worn jumper, old trousers, and a pair of socks that didn't match. She dropped into her chair, reached for the teapot, and poured herself a cup before she had fully opened her eyes.
"Smells good," she mumbled.
She took a long drink, then blinked at the table.
"What is all this?"
"A new menu," Seraphina replied. "Tilly is expanding his repertoire."
Saoirse looked over the spread before turning her attention to Morwenna, who was now trying to eat noodles with her fork.
The results were mixed. Noodles slipped off the tines, dangled precariously, and occasionally had to be caught with her other hand before they reached the table.
Saoirse glanced at Tilly, who looked ready to burst with pride beside the sideboard.
"Right," she said, setting down her cup. "I'm leaving tomorrow."
The table fell silent.
Jack put down his fork, the sharp clink of metal against ceramic suddenly loud in the quiet room.
"Tomorrow?"
Saoirse shrugged, though something more serious flickered beneath the casual gesture.
"I have been cooped up in this house for a year, Jack. A whole year. If I stay any longer, my muscles will twist into knots and I will forget how to move."
Jane's expression changed. She had known this day was coming. They all had. Saoirse wasn't made for staying in one place, and a year in the same house was an eternity for her. Knowing that didn't make it any easier to hear her say it aloud.
"Morwenna is fine now," Saoirse continued, glancing at her niece. "She is healthy, she is strong, and she is eating noodles with her fingers."
She gestured toward the child, who had indeed abandoned her fork entirely.
"She has both of you, Mum and Dad, and the entire manor looking after her. She doesn't need me underfoot."
"You aren't underfoot," Jack said.
"I absolutely am." A hint of her familiar grin returned. "I have been underfoot for twelve months. Tilly has been very polite about it, but I'm fairly sure he has stepped over my legs at least four hundred times."
Tilly's ears twitched. He said nothing, though his expression suggested the actual number might be higher.
Saoirse leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. When she spoke again, her voice had lost its teasing edge.
"Besides, I can look for information while I travel. The phoenix, the cold fire, all of it. I have got contacts all over the world, Jack. People who owe me favors and people who know things they probably shouldn't."
Jack remained silent for a long moment. The fire crackled in the hearth while Morwenna reached for another dumpling. Beneath the table, Cinder lay with his head on his paws, waiting patiently for anything that might fall.
"How long?" Jack finally asked.
"About a year." Saoirse glanced at Morwenna. "I will be back before she turns four. I want to be here for that."
At the mention of her age, Morwenna looked up and held out four fingers. She studied them, counting silently.
"Four?"
"Four," Saoirse confirmed. "When you turn four, I will be here. I promise."
Morwenna considered her for a moment, her green eyes steady and thoughtful. Then she reached for another dumpling.
Saoirse grinned, her expression softening briefly before she looked back at her brother.
"I will come back. I always do."
Jack nodded. He picked up his fork again, only to set it down a moment later, unwilling to trust his voice.
Saoirse turned toward Jane.
"And next year, I want to travel with my dear brother, my brilliant niece, and my very best sister-in-law, too."
There was genuine affection beneath her usual cheekiness.
Jane smiled. "We will hold you to that."
Saoirse pushed back her chair and stood, stretching her arms over her head.
"Good. Now, I'm going to pack. Tilly, save me some of those dumplings. I will be back for lunch."
She left before anyone could say anything more. Her footsteps echoed through the corridor before gradually fading into the distance.
The table remained quiet after her departure. Morwenna reached for another dumpling, and Tilly appeared at her elbow with a fresh plate before her hand had even fully extended. She took one, bit into it carefully, and continued eating with focused attention.
Jack stared at the empty chair where his sister had been sitting. His gaze shifted to the cooling tea she had left behind, then to the mismatched socks abandoned on the floor beside her chair.
Seraphina spoke softly.
"She will be back before you know it. She always comes back."
Jack nodded but said nothing.
Aldric reached for the teapot and refilled his cup, his hands steady.
"The research is important. If anyone can find what we need, it's Saoirse. She has contacts even I don't know about." He paused before adding, "And she needs to move. You know that."
Jack nodded again.
Morwenna finished her third dumpling and looked around the table. Her green eyes moved from one face to another, quietly studying the adults. She noticed the tightness in her father's jaw, the stillness of her mother's hand, and the way her grandparents waited without saying anything.
She didn't understand all their words, but she understood that something had changed.
"Saoirse coming back," she said.
Jack looked at her. The tension in his jaw eased a little.
"Yes. She always does."
Morwenna nodded, satisfied with his answer, and reached for another dumpling.
The family gradually left the table. Aldric and Seraphina returned to the library, their voices low as they discussed possible research leads. Jack stood, kissed Jane's forehead, and followed them. Soon, the morning room grew quiet again, with only the crackling fire and the occasional sound of dishes disappearing.
Jane remained at the table with Morwenna, watching as her daughter methodically worked through the remaining dumplings. When the plate was finally empty, Morwenna pointed toward the other dishes.
Jane named them again: rice, noodles, and eggs with tomatoes.
Morwenna repeated each word carefully, paying attention to the pronunciation.
"Which one did you like best?" Jane asked.
Morwenna thought about it, her brow furrowing as she considered the choices. Finally, she pointed at the empty dumpling plate.
"Dumplings."
"Those were your favorite?"
"Yes." She paused, then added, "And noodles. And rice. And eggs."
She looked up at Jane.
"I liked all."
Jane smiled. "That's good. That's how it should be."
Morwenna slid off her chair, her socked feet landing on the stone floor. At some point, she had kicked off her trainers beneath the table. She glanced at the blue shoes sitting neatly where she had left them, considered putting them back on, then decided against it.
Instead, she walked over to the window, her feet making almost no sound against the stone.
Beyond the glass, the garden stretched away in muted shades of gray and green. Near the hedge, the patch of snowdrops looked like a small white smudge in the distance.
Morwenna began to count.
Nineteen.
No, twenty.
The newest flower was smaller than the others, its petals only just beginning to open, but she could see it.
There were twenty now.
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