“Not only are you on watch, but stealing lord Ceroth’s drink? How could you brother?” You pause, and stopper the flask. “The children have been washed and put to bed.” You begin to pour yourself a glass of brandy but your brother stops you. Returning to the study your brother begins to put away the various reading material he has pulled out. There are many things more powerful than knights and mages, but there is nothing I cannot protect you from.” “Magic! Nothing is as powerful as a mage!” “Nuh-uh! I bet lord Archdies Bald Arrittonhire the First could beat a mage.” “Now, you two. “So you are going to protect us from everything? Is there anything you can’t save us from?” Her brother stands up and begins posing. “…partially transmogrified into pudding.” Mary places her tiny palm upon the shield. Mary sits upon your lap and Marion at your feet, both entirely attentive as you point to your crest. Behind you your brother seats himself at the lord’s desk. If you are so keen on this, seek out the wailing loin-spawn yourself.” With a huff you leave the study, your armor clanking across the tiled floor. “They are called children, and our family’s honor-” “Don’t even start. As much as I am willing to kiss the Ceroth family ring, I draw the line at miniature banshees.” Your twin pours himself a glass of Lord Ceroth’s brandy. “That was uncalled for, brother.” “Pardon me for buying us ten minutes of glorious silence in this godforsaken task you insisted upon volunteering for. “Maybe after hide and seek.” “But…” “Go hide, damn you!” Looking slightly frightened the pair of children slink off. “Yeah, we want to hear your brother’s stories!” her brother Marion chimes in. “Now children, why don’t we play hide and seek? I will count to one thousand…” “You always want to play hide and seek!” Mary interrupts. Turning to the children he puts on a large grin. The twins simply adore the two of you.” “It is no trouble my lady…” you begin, before your brother cuts you off and ushers the adults out the door. You have always been so kind to our family. No pouting, Mary, your face might stay like that.” The lord kisses his children atop their heads while the lady adorns her earrings. “I must side with Marion dear, the rubies will better suit my cufflinks. “No, the pearls!” The flanking girl replies. “The rubies, mum!” the young boy at her skirt chimes in. “The pearls or the rubies?” Lady Dhalia Ceroth holds the earrings up for her husband’s judgment.
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