'Nadezdha' came out to join her at the cottage gate whilst they waited. Sheilaktar glanced at her. Sometimes it made her laugh, knowing that behind this mask, this beautiful and exotic girl, was in truth a knavish boy. Not a particularly flimsy boy either, not anymore. Homen had grown into a tall and athletic young man.
'Young man.' Not 'boy,' not any longer. He'd been on the cusp of adulthood when he'd first washed up upon her doorstep like a drowned rat, and it had been five years, and now he was anything but a child. No matter how cute he-or-she-or-whatever looked in that dress.
Where had the time gone?
The minutes stretched by. The weather was starting to turn comfortable, and Nadezdha was in tights instead of trousers. She sat on the garden fence, and kicked blithely at nothing. Sheilaktar rolled her eyes. Nadezdha winked.
"So, I've been meaning to ask thee something," Sheilaktar began. "Both in general, and about Nythra in specific. Thou have been, eh, bosom friends for quite some time now." That was true. The two always ended up sitting together, sharing pastries and holding hands.
"We have," her pupil agreed. "We should have an anniversary party."
"Thou seem mutually touchy. Art thou attracted to her?"
Nadezdha was so silent that Shielaktar presumed she'd hit the nail on the head.
"If there is any girl who has caught more than just thine idle fancy, whom thou cultivates deeper feelings for, thou should speak to me of it before anything has the chance to go wrong." She turned and then blinked, for the Thay-child's expression was not guilt but rather estrangement. He looked at Sheilaktar as if the necromancer had abruptly sprouted two heads. "What did I say to evoke this bewilderment? Thou hast given up your liking of women?"
"I am not particularly attracted to Nythra," Homen told her in a curiously repressed monotone, or as if refraining from emphasizing the wrong word of the claim.
Sheilaktar raised a brow. Then she tilted her cheek up and eyed him suspiciously. "Who, then?"
The imp continued to stare at her, and Sheilaktar thought to prod this mystery further, but just then one of the hummingbirds darted up to inform her that Yhelbruna was nearby. She straightened, and sure enough the Orthlor soon appeared. She had with her Nythra of Seven Rivers, of course, for no mater how old Nythra grew it seemed she would ever be the Eldest's Little Red Robin.
Nadezdha hopped off the fence immediately and waved to them, and Nythra ran ahead to meet her. The two 'girls' shared a hug. "Nadezdha! Are you getting taller again? Didn't I forbid that?" Nythra tugged a braid.
"I don't know. Could it be that you are shrinking from advanced age?"
"Do you wear that same makeup every day?"
"No," Nadezdha dismissed this as absurd. "Sometimes I throw the whole formula out the window and simply slather the upper part of my face in colored glitter and and call it a day. Well and maple leaves, of course, I'm not some heathen."
Nythra was bent over double laughing betimes Yhelbruna even got there and gave a respectful greeting nod to Sheilaktar.
"Hello, my Dusk Dragon. I'm sorry to impose."
"I'm sure thou are," Sheilaktar muttered with a glance towards the (slightly) younger generation.
An awkward moment passed. Yhelbruna gave a little cough. "May we come in?" the illustrious Orthlor was forced to ask at last.
"Well. Thou hast already come all the way here," the necromancer assessed. "So I suppose it would be a waste of all our time and energy if thou did not." And with that she turned about and re-entered the cottage grounds.
"Who'd like some tea?" Nadezdha asked with a disarming smile towards Yhelbruna and expression that most probably read: 'please forgive my master.' "Blueberry? Jasmine?"
"Jasmine would be lovely, thank you dear."