Loccy woke on the kitchen bench with a faint golden ring floating above her head, humming like a kettle. Three pairs of wheat-gold wings lay folded along her back, brushing the rafters whenever she breathed in too deeply.
Hans marched the chained stranger into the gatehouse under guard while Vella forbade any questions until the baron was patched.
Her stomach answered the dark pantry with a growl so deep that three pots rattled on their hooks.
'That's me? That sounds like a cave with a bear in it.'
"It's you, little sister, the whole manor heard it," Juna said from the doorway, arms crossed, ears pointed straight at the halo.
Juna's jaw worked hard as she stared at the halo, blinking at the ceiling as if dust floated there. She jabbed a knuckle at her cheek before anything could spill, scowling at nobody in particular, her shoulders stiff.
Loccy peered up at her with her head tilted, "Your face is wet, Juna."
"It's the dust, go eat something."
