Bath time.
Thalor had forgotten how, he couldn't say that a single word could strike such a peculiar blend of dread and anticipation into the heart of any adult who'd ever cared for a toddler. Kaelith, of course, considered it an invitation to adventure.
The sun was dipping behind the western wing of the castle, golden light pooling through the high nursery windows as Veylira announced, "Bath time!" in the same tone she might have used to summon troops for a siege. Kaelith, still clutching her wooden sword, gave an excited shriek.
Raveth grinned. "You're on duty, General Veylira. I'll fetch towels and stand by with first aid in case of flooding."
Thalor, wiping a smear of grass from his cheek, met Veylira's eyes with a look of gratitude and silent apology. "Good luck," he said.
Veylira gave a regal sniff. "It's just a bath. What's the worst that could happen?"
