Recognition

Not many people could find the upper hall that led to Lord and Lady Mettlebright’s rooms, so Ginkgo was more than a little surprised to find someone he didn’t know crouched there, petting the leaf-patterned carpet. “Hey. You.”

The fair-haired stranger startled and slowly straightened.

They were a full head taller than Ginkgo, and he didn’t think he was imagining the shimmer to their complexion. Relaxing into a smile, he showed his palms. “Sorry about that. You’re Rhomiko, yeah? I’m one of Argent’s sons. Ginkgo.”

Bypassing his hands, Rhomiko stooped to rub their cheeks together, kitty style.

With a soft laugh, Ginkgo patted their back. “Nice. Someone’s been hanging out with Catalan.”

Rhomiko straightened but stayed in the circle of Ginkgo’s arms. “Yes. Did he speak of me?”

“Oh, I can tell by scent. And I recognize the shirt.”

“He gave me his. And these were in a cupboard.” Rhomiko lifted their shirt enough to show that the waist of pale green silk pants had been cinched tight above slim hips.

“Those must belong to Jacques, since he sometimes stays in Sensei’s room. He won’t mind sharing, but he’d insist on hauling you across to his tailor. You’ll need things that fit better.”

“Jacques Smythe.”

“That’s the guy. You’ve met already?”

“Nooo, but his name was often woven into songs. Mother said he was foretold.”

“That’s probably something we should mention to Dad. Argent, I mean. He’ll want to know anything you can tell him about Jacques.”

“He protects those he loves.”

“Dad? Or Jacques? It’s true either way.”

“Will he love me?”

Ginkgo’s heart went out to their newcomer, whose tone was so wistful. “I don’t make a habit of speaking for others, so you’ll have to ask them and see. In the meantime, if I’ll do, I’m an affectionate guy. Plenty of love to spare.”

“Thank you,” Rhomiko murmured, pulling Ginkgo closer.

After a few minutes ticked slowly by and Rhomiko showed no signs of letting go, Ginkgo decided to redirect the impish crosser. “Say, are you busy?”

“Is this busy?”

“Nah, this is just hello. But I was thinking you could give me a hand.”

Rhomiko eased back a smidge and slowly let go, offering both hands.

“What I mean is … I could use your help.”

“Is that so?”

“I’d be really grateful. You see, I’m officially Stately House’s gardener, but I’m also on call as a nanny. But I only have two arms. Stick with me, and we’ll be doubly effective.” Ginkgo hooked Rhomiko’s elbow and got them moving.

Rhomiko didn’t resist. Only asked, “What is a nanny?”

“Someone who takes care of children. Do you like little ones?”

“I have never had the pleasure.”

“It’s not hard. You like hugs, yeah?”

“I do.”

“You’ll be a natural,” Ginkgo promised.

He steadied Rhomiko down the stairway. It hadn’t really occurred to him just how many simple things were totally new to someone who’d spent their whole life hidden away, just … waiting.

“Take your time,” he urged. “Enjoy the experience.”

Rhomiko flashed a shy smile. “I would be lost without you.”

“You’ll be fine. You’ve got good people to guide you—Hisoka, Catalan, Tsumiko. She’s Lady Mettlebright.”

“And you?”

“Sure. Me, too. And plenty of others.” They reached the foot of the stairs, and Gingko let Rhomiko set their pace. “Most of the kids are busy someplace else right now, otherwise you’d be gathering a crowd. There’s bathtime with Cat and Deece and Nonny. And storytime with Michael. But even after a week, some of the newest members of the family are still getting used to this place. And us.”

Rhomiko’s expression slowly shifted. “I hear sadness.”

Ginkgo angled his ears toward the hall leading to the kitchen. “Me, too. Should we see if we can help?”

Rhomiko caught his hand and led the way, straight to his winter garden. On the worn couch tucked under a bay window, Perse and Twosies huddled together. It was plain that Twosies had been crying. Perse’s arm tightened protectively around the younger boy, and wary red eyes locked onto Rhomiko.

“Hey, guys. Thanks for looking after Mercy for me.” Ginkgo leaned over the warded bassinette where the little girl slept. “Is there room for two more? This is Rhomiko, and they need training in. Can you believe they’ve never held a baby before? Maybe you could give them some pointers.” And to Rhomiko, “Perse and Twosies are pros. Very dependable.”

Twosies sulkily said, “Babies are easy. Especially Mercy.”

“Yeah, she’s a good baby. That’s why I thought Rhomiko should start with her.” And scooping her up, Ginkgo nodded at the couch. “Sit here, and I’ll pass Mercy to you. See how I have her? Just like this.”

Rhomiko plunked right down next to Perse, arms open, expression eager. “I want to try.”

“I like your enthusiasm. Gently, yeah?”

“I will do no harm.”

“That’s the stuff.” Ginkgo had the strongest sense that Mercy would be safe, so without any further words of caution, he placed his sister in Rhomiko’s keeping.

Darned if the imp wasn’t already making little crooning noises.

And Mercy, who adored attention, opened her eyes.

Rhomiko murmured, “Mother would sing for me. Do you think Mercy would like that?”

“Go for it,” urged Ginkgo, dropping to a seat beside them.

They began by humming, and words soon followed in a language Ginkgo didn’t recognize. But Twosies gasped, and Perse began humming along.

Twosies exclaimed, “You know our star’s song!”

Rhomiko left off in order to answer. “My mother is that same star.”

“She sang for us, too!”

“I remember.” With another of those shy glances, Rhomiko said, “I was there, too, but in a different kind of cage.”

Twosies hopped down and came to sit on Ginkgo’s lap in order to get closer to Rhomiko. He said, “Sing more. I miss her song.”

Rhomiko began again, singing with a smile on their face.

Ginkgo wasn’t surprised when, a few minutes later, Opulence Windlore drifted into the kitchen, a sleeping child draped against his shoulder. Only a dragon could look graceful flopping to the floor—opalescent robes billowing, white hair pooling, blue-eyed gaze unwavering. As Rhomiko’s song continued, Ginkgo could see the bard’s questions piling up, but he made no effort to interrupt. In fact, Ginkgo thought he was trying to fade from notice. Probably so he wouldn’t alarm any of the children who were still dragon-shy. That included Twosies.

But then Opal began to hum along.

Rhomiko noticed and sort of … brightened.

And then the song became a duet, and Opal harmonized with such confidence that Ginkgo guessed he already knew the song.

Rhomiko sang out with more strength, and the whole household took notice. Sonnet appeared and began to putter at the counter, her tail swaying in time to the music. Sansa eased into one of the big rockers across from the couch and propped up her feet, hands folding over her swollen belly, a restful expression on her face.

Leeuwen Withershanks, who looked very like his illustrious mother, led four little girls, fresh from their evening baths, hair neatly braided. Then Michael arrived with Gilen and the six smallest boys, barely bigger than toddlers. Cat escorted four more, then Lilya and Elara arrived with six of the older girls. More came, all in clusters, since Tsumiko and the mares had set up a buddy system. Every child knew who to turn to if they needed their hand held.

Ginkgo didn’t have any official assignment. Neither did Timur, Akira, Suuzu, or Nonny. Mostly because the children who’d been with them the longest didn’t think it would be fair. They were everyone’s big brothers. In much the same way, the kids had somehow already begun sorting out which of the ladies of the household they’d look to as a mother.

If this evening’s impromptu concert was any indication, Rhomiko would be a huge comfort, and Ginkgo kind of hoped that Hisoka decided to stay instead of returning to Keishi. Totally selfish. Probably impractical. But judging by the hush in a room packed with little ones … yeah. It was something worth hoping for.

Kyrie stole up on him and joined Twosies on Ginkgo’s lap.

The littler boy’s eyes were brighter now, and a smile teased at the corners of his mouth. In a proud whisper, he announced, “I’m part star, too.”

“You are,” Kyrie acknowledged.

Twosies wove their fingers together and mumbled, “I wish Try could hear.”

Kyrie quietly asked, “May I call Zuzu?”

“Sure, little bro. Should be fine.”

Kyrie scrolled through Ginkgo’s contacts, searching for the chatty tree who could probably make Twosies’ wish come true.

Tsumiko finally turned up, Dad in her wake. They stopped just inside the kitchen door, staying on the edge of a crowd that had grown to include their Kith and several nearby Kindred. Oblivious to their audience, Rhomiko and Opal sang on. But Dad? He was watching their audience with care, noting every nuance of response, especially in the kids he’d helped rescue.

Most people wouldn’t notice, but Ginkgo had a lot of practice reading Dad’s moods. And nowadays, they shared a bond of trust, so he saw the flicker of surprise and the subtle wash of relief, then gratitude, then … yeah, there was just a hint of smug.

Foxes didn’t trust easily, and Dad was warier than most. It was already a miracle that Opulence Windlore, a.k.a. Opal the Sage, had been brought through Stately House’s doors and given access to the children. So Ginkgo knew how rare it was when, with a single song, Opal managed to rise in Dad’s estimation.