Juna kicked the bedroom door open with her shoulder, Hajin slung across her back like a sack of hot coals.
The egg sat in the middle of the bed like a prince at his coronation, pale and perfectly round. It was the size of a washtub and pulsed gold every few seconds, as if the shell were breathing.
"Why is there an egg on the bed?" she demanded, dumping Hajin onto the mattress beside it.
Loccy tucked a blanket around the shell from the corner, "It was cold on the floor, so I carried it up with my arms."
"It's the size of a washtub, Bun."
"He's a big egg, he needs a big bed."
"That's the lord's bed, the lord is burning like a forge, you put an egg in it," Juna said, pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose.
Hajin rolled onto his side with a low, miserable moan, one arm flopping across the pale shell. His skin was burning and the room smelled like a smithy, damp hair plastered to his forehead.
