Outside the nursery, the corridor had become a battleground of whispers, pacing, and shushed excitement.
Kaelith was not helping.
"Mama!" she shouted for the twelfth time in five minutes, little fists banging rhythmically against the carved wooden door. "Mama! Mama!"
"She thinks Lara's behind the door," Malvoria said, voice dry but fond.
"Technically not wrong," Elysia murmured, rocking Kaelith gently in her arms. "She is in there. Just probably covered in afterbirth and in no mood to play."
Kaelith huffed and wriggled. Her cheeks were flushed with impatience, her eyes too bright for bedtime, and her little booted feet kept kicking at the air like she could force the door open with willpower alone.
Elysia didn't blame her.
They were all a little impatient.
The hallway smelled faintly of medicinal herbs and old magic.
