May, 1966

Cambridge, Great Britain

The sound of birds chirping gradually pulled Anah from her sleep. She raised her head from her coils, and tried to process where she was. Last night hadn't been the most restful of sleeps. Strange, disturbing dreams had filled the cobra's mind. Whispers and chattering calls were the dominant sounds she had been hearing, but she hadn't seen or heard anything that made the slightest amount of sense.

She looked over at where Jack Moffitt lay sleeping. His wife, Vanora, was snuggled up against him, her arm draped over him. Anah slithered over to the bed from Moffitt's nightstand. She looked at the clock, seeing it was fairly close to when everyone would start waking up on a normal day. Today was a special day, though, but it was also a day where everyone could sleep in a little, so Anah did her best not to wake up the sleeping couple. As she climbed up one of the bedposts, Anah heard Moffitt's breathing change as he turned over to face Vanora. He kissed her forehead, and whispered, "Good morning, darling."

"Good morning, Jack," Vanora replied, without opening her eyes. "Five more minutes, love."

"Okay." Moffitt pulled her closer, and gave a sigh of contentment. "I love you."

Anah smiled as she watched them, but she made no noise as she climbed down from the bed and squeezed under the door. Out in the drawing room, the curtains waved gently in the windows as a light morning breeze came through. It had been warm enough over the last few days to warrant the windows being opened overnight, which made the whole house feel cool and refreshing. Anah paused to take in the breeze. Even though it had been twenty-three years since she joined Moffitt and his team, Anah never took for granted the little things that let her know she was no longer trapped in the ancient temple back in Tunisia. Cool breezes were one of those things.

She made a mental note to get tea and breakfast ready after she checked on Jules, Moffitt and Vanora's son. He was the reason that day was special—he was turning fourteen. Anah slithered under Jules's door to find he was still asleep in bed. His room was surprisingly organized for someone his age. There were photographs of his family, paintings of horses, and a map of the world, as well as a map of Great Britain, on the walls. On his desk were books and notebooks containing his schoolwork, which Anah had been charged with conducting nearly six years ago. Fortunately, there would be no lessons today.

Anah climbed up onto the desk just as Jules's alarm clock started ringing. A skinny arm slipped out from under the blankets on the bed to turn the clock off. There was a sigh, then Jules sat up, stretching and yawning.

"Good morning, dear," Anah said, smiling.

"'Morning, Anah," Jules grunted. "You need something?"

"I came to say 'happy birthday.' I cannot believe you are fourteen today. Why, I still clearly remember when you were four."

Jules rubbed his eyes. "That's nice."

Anah frowned. "Are you alright, dear? You do not sound happy."

"Oh? No, I'm alright. Just… strange dreams, that's all."

"What sort of strange dreams?"

"Nothing that made sense. I remember… screaming, a sensation of falling, and this weird clicking sound."

Weird clicking sound. Anah thought for a moment. "Do you remember anything else? Anything that stood out?"

"No." Jules got out of bed. "I have to go take care of Nightrunner. I'll be back. Are Dad and Mum up?"

"Not yet. I will be starting tea and breakfast in a moment. Oh, don't forget everyone will be coming over around noon, dear."

"I won't forget. Thanks, Anah."

Jules still seemed distracted and disinterested. Anah left the room to get started on breakfast, wondering if something else was going on. Jules was fine last night. He had an odd dream, and so did I. Neither of us saw or heard anything comprehensible. Perhaps more will be made clear to us later. Or… Anah looked toward Moffitt's bedroom. Perhaps Moffitt had a similar dream.

Anah would wait until Moffitt had his tea. She climbed up on the kitchen counter to open the tea cupboard and pull out a box of English breakfast tea. As she filled the kettle with water, Jules left his bedroom, running his hand through his messily curled dark hair. Anah watched him put his boots on. It never failed to surprise her how much he looked like his father. He had his mother's blue eyes, though.

"Have fun out there, dear," Anah said.

"I will." Jules left, making sure the door was closed behind him.

Anah watched him through the kitchen window, walking toward the stables with his hands in his pockets. Whatever was going on, Anah hoped they would be able to figure it out soon.

She was pouring hot water into a mug with a tea bag inside when Moffitt left his bedroom. "Good morning, Anah," he said.

"Good morning," Anah replied. "Your tea is steeping, dear."

"Thank you. I'm getting a shave, and then I'll be right there." Moffitt disappeared into the bathroom.

Vanora was next to leave the bedroom, looking like she was ready to go back to bed as she sat at the table. "Anah," she said. "Is Jules up?"

"He is out in the stable," Anah replied.

"He needs to eat breakfast first. I don't like this habit he's gotten himself into."

"Well, he is his father's son."

"Jack is… Jack. There's no changing that, but Jules doesn't need to copy his behavior."

"I think it is a little too late for that." Anah telekinetically pulled opened a tin of kippers, and added them to a frying pan.

Moffitt left the bathroom ten minutes later, smelling heavily of aftershave lotion. Vanora smiled when he leaned over to kiss her. "You smell very nice, love," she said.

"I haven't changed my aftershave in nearly ten years because you like it," Moffitt replied, tapping the tip of Vanora's nose. He then kissed her again. "Darling."

"Your tea is ready," Anah said. "I even added the milk and sugar for you."

"Greatly appreciated, Anah." Moffitt took his mug from the counter, and stroked the top of the cobra's head before sitting at the table. "Where's the birthday boy?"

"Stables, dear."

"Before breakfast? Bloody hell, he is turning into me."

"I said something similar to Vanora."

"That's not to say I'm not impressed with him. He's been extremely responsible ever since we got Nightrunner for him last year. Jules has become one of the best horsemen I've ever met. And what a beautiful Arabian Nightrunner has turned out to be! I've been tempted to ride him myself on occasion."

"Nightrunner is directly descended from Snowstripe, right?" Vanora asked.

"Yes." Moffitt's good mood slowly began to fade. "Yes, he is."

Anah exchanged a sad look with Vanora. It had been a little under two years since Moffitt's longtime companion and mount from the Scots Greys, a black and white Arabian named Snowstripe, had passed away. What followed was a rather rough period of grieving, and although Moffitt had mostly accepted Snowstripe's death, Anah could sense that his grief was still raw and painful at times.

Vanora reached across the table to squeeze her husband's arm. "I'm sorry, Jack—"

"No, no, it's alright. You were asking a perfectly honest question. Yes, Nightrunner is directly descended from Snowstripe. He certainly has the same spirit and empathic nature that drew me to Snowstripe in the first place." Moffitt touched Vanora's hand, trying to smile. "I'll be alright. No need to apologize."

Vanora changed the subject. "When is everyone coming over?"

"They should be coming around noon," Anah said.

"Troy will probably be early, like he always is," Moffitt added. "I'm actually surprised he's not already here. He's quite the early riser."

"Maybe Shauna tied him to the bed in the hotel room to keep him from waking everyone up," Vanora said.

"Do you really think that would stop Troy?"

"Probably not. Who knows? Maybe he's learned sleeping in can feel nice."

"One would hope."

Anah set two plates of kippers, eggs, and toast on the table. "There you are, dears. Enjoy."

"Thank you, Anah," Vanora said.

"Seconded." Moffitt held out his arm, letting Anah slither over to his shoulders. "Rest a bit. Today's going to be a bit busy, so save your strength."

Anah got comfortable on Moffitt's shoulders. She really didn't want to ruin the day with talk of weird dreams. Moffitt certainly wasn't acting like he had any strange dreams, and she couldn't detect anything when she examined his most recent memories. Anah sighed, nuzzled Moffitt's neck, and tried to relax before she needed to focus on what needed to be done before the guests arrived.

Moffitt headed out to the stables after breakfast and tea, noticing Jules had been out there for quite a while. He could see Jules doing groundwork with Nightrunner, the young Arabian responding flawlessly to Jules's commands, and Jules responding with praise. Before going over to Jules, Moffitt entered the stable to take care of his other two horses. The first was Icepatch, an older mare who was Snowstripe's daughter. She greeted Moffitt with a quiet nicker, and he noticed fresh hay and water were already in her stall.

"Good job, Jules," Moffitt said, smiling.

The next horse was a much younger mare, a dappled gray Arabian named Frostcloud. Moffitt started training and riding her when Snowstripe had become too old to ride anymore. Like the rest of Snowstripe's bloodline, Frostcloud was highly intelligent, quick to respond to her rider's emotions, and full of energy. She enjoyed long rides in the British countryside, especially ones that gave her a chance to run and jump. She did have a tendency to jump without Moffitt's prompting, though, which resulted in her accidentally dumping Moffitt from the saddle a few times. His colleagues at the University of Cambridge quickly got used to seeing Moffitt come into work with bruises and bandages. He would simply smile and say, "Horse accident."

Like Icepatch, Frostcloud had been given fresh hay and water as well, but she greeted Moffitt with far more enthusiasm. "How's my wonderful young lady this morning?" Moffitt asked, grinning and stroking the mare's neck. "We'll go riding today, I promise. Dietrich's coming, so both of you will get some good exercise today."

He took care of a few things before going back outside, and leaning against the fence to watch Jules longeing Nightrunner. The boy didn't notice he was being watched until he ended the session and was walking with the horse back to the gate.

"Good morning, Dad," Jules said. "Do you need something?"

"Just came to see what you were doing," Moffitt replied. "Thank you for giving the mares food and water, by the way."

"You're welcome." Jules unlatched the gate, and walked Nightrunner back to the stable.

Moffitt followed close behind, concern building in his chest at how quiet Jules was. He's usually more excited on his birthday. "Are you… coming in for breakfast, Jules?"

"In a minute."

"Are you feeling alright? You're awfully… subdued today."

Jules remained quiet while taking Nightrunner's halter off. "I was having weird dreams last night. I told Anah about that before I came out here. I thought she'd tell you."

"What sort of 'weird dreams?'"

"Nothing that made a lot of sense. There was a lot of screaming, feelings like I was falling, and I kept hearing a clicking sound. Beyond that, there was nothing I could really make out." Jules disappeared into the tack room to hang up the halter, then returned to his father. "You're not worried, are you?"

"I am a little, but for all we know, this is just an odd but ordinary dream. Not every dream is a vision."

"No. I remember Anah taught me that in lessons. Doesn't stop me from being curious. I mean, I highly doubt the dream I had where I was racing Nightrunner in the Grand National means anything."

"I highly doubt that as well, no offense. You're already far too tall. I do take it you're hoping for anything horse-related for your birthday?"

Jules nodded. "I think I told you there was this really nice black saddle I saw in the monthly magazine you get, and the teal saddle pad I saw at the tack shop in town."

"You did mention that saddle." Moffitt gave him a questioning look, yet wearing a slight smirk. "I don't remember a teal saddle pad, though. That wasn't in the magazine, and I haven't taken you to the tack store since Christmas."

Jules flushed red. "I… well…"

"You snuck off again, didn't you?"

Jules bit his lip. "Yeah."

"Thought so. Anah was wondering why you were gone so long last Thursday during your break."

"Sorry, Dad."

"Why are you apologizing?"

"I'm… I'm not in trouble?"

"I did the same thing when I was your age."

"Doesn't make it right, though."

"No, but I understand. You've proven yourself to be very responsible, so if you ever want to go into town on your own, just let somebody know, or take Anah with you."

"Okay." Jules still looked a little embarrassed over his little trip being found out.

"Alright. Head on inside for breakfast. Anah's going to need the kitchen for the party."

Without another word, Jules started walking toward the house. Moffitt followed, trying not to dwell on what Jules told him about his dreams last night. He found Anah cracking eggs over a pan for Jules's breakfast, while Jules was making his own cup of tea.

Moffitt motioned to Anah to connect with him telepathically so they could talk in private. "Did you talk to Jules this morning before he headed to the stables?"

"I did a little," Anah replied. "Why?"

"He told me he had a strange dream last night, involving screaming, falling, and a clicking sound."

Anah was quiet for a moment. She focused on the eggs, making sure the yolks didn't overcook. "He mentioned that to me as well. I am not sure what it could mean—if it means anything at all. I think we should wait and see what happens. There is not enough for me to say for certain whether it is something to be concerned about."

"Alright. I really hope it's nothing."

"So do I." Anah turned to Jules. "Do you want toast with your kippers and eggs, dear?"

"Sure," Jules replied. He took the milk from the refrigerator once his tea was done steeping.

Moffitt let out a sigh watching his son add the milk and sugar to his tea. "Does it really taste better with that much milk, Jules?"

"I think it does," Jules said with a shrug. "It's not even that much milk."

"That's not how you make a cup of tea, though. A dash of milk is a perfectly reasonable amount. You don't need to fill half the bloody mug."

"It's not half the mug. It's just more than a dash. Bit like coffee creamer."

"Just… never, ever, ever put coffee creamer in your tea. Please."

"I won't, Dad."

"Thank you."

"He can make his tea however he wants," Anah said as she began washing the frying pan.

"Within reason."

"At least I don't put powdered sugar in it like Troy's done," Jules said.

"I'm still trying to figure out what possessed him to put powdered bloody sugar in a cup of tea."

"I doubt Troy is possessed by anything," Anah replied. "Even demons would go insane trying to take over his brain."

Moffitt looked outside when he noticed movement in the corner of his eye. "Oh, speak of the devil. He's here."

"It is not even nine o'clock!"

"Are you surprised?"

"Well… no, not really."

Moffitt sighed, and opened the door to greet Sam Troy. He was trailed by his wife, Shauna, and their daughter, Antheia. "You realize you're three hours early, right?" Moffitt asked.

"I know." Troy grabbed Moffitt in a quick bear-hug. "It's good to see you, too, Moffitt."

"Yes, I am glad to see you, Troy, and your lovely wife and daughter, too. Come inside, we'll make coffee."

Troy went in first, then Shauna gave Moffitt a hug before saying, "We're not interrupting anything, are we?"

"No, not at all. We're just finishing up breakfast, actually."

"I do need the kitchen, dear," Anah said. "I need to make the cake."

"We don't have to do cake this year," Jules said. He stood to greet Troy, who roughly tousled Jules's already-messy hair.

"Oh, come on, kid! What's a birthday without cake?" Troy asked.

"Less work for Anah?"

"Nonsense! I love baking," Anah said. "You are getting a cake, dear." She smiled up at Troy. "Hello."

"Hi, Anah," Troy said. "Let me guess—is my slice of cake getting set on fire this year?"

"I was not considering such a thing, but you have planted the seed in my mind."

Troy sighed heavily.

Moffitt shook his head. "I'm afraid you've brought this on yourself, old friend."

"I can see that."

"Oh, no, I will not say whether or not I will actually set your cake on fire, dear," Anah said with a smile. "You will have to wait and see."

"Had a feeling you'd say that." Troy smiled back at her before stroking her down the length of her body.

Moffitt turned to Shauna. "I know you want coffee—" he then turned to Antheia, "and what would you like?"

Antheia, who was only a year younger than Jules, was technically not Troy and Shauna's by blood. She came into their lives when she ran away from an orphanage four years prior. Trying to help her took work, and a lot of patience, but she was on the right track to becoming a smart, kind, and resourceful young woman. She was a bit shy, and a little awkward due to her previous upbringing not being the greatest, but she was loved dearly by her adoptive parents and the rest of their family. She smiled a bit at Moffitt, then said, "I… wouldn't mind trying tea."

Troy gave Moffitt a look.

"I am kind of curious why Dad hates it so much," Antheia added.

"Because he doesn't know how to appreciate a good cup of tea, lass," Shauna said.

"It tastes awful," Troy muttered. "I don't get how anyone can wake up with just a cup of tea in the morning. It doesn't have the strong taste that coffee does."

"If you've only had bad tea throughout your life, I can agree with that statement," Moffitt said. "A good, proper British tea is just as perky as coffee, if you're willing to try, Troy."

"No, thanks. I'll stick with coffee."

Moffitt sighed. "Fine."

Anah gestured to an ornate silver sign hanging above the kitchen sink with the words "Patron of Tea" painted in dark-blue cursive calligraphy. "Troy, mind what you say in this house about tea, dear."

"You all have known me for how long now? I'm not sitting through the tea lecture again," Troy said.

"He really is hopeless when it comes to tea," Shauna added.

After Anah placed a bag of English breakfast tea into a mug, Jules glanced at Antheia. "Um… do you know how tea is typically prepared here?"

"It's with milk and sugar, right?" Antheia replied.

"Yeah, and… everyone does their milk and sugar differently. I-I know Dad says there's only one way to make a good cup of tea, but I've found a little more milk is better."

Moffitt stayed out of the way when Jules offered to show Antheia how to make a decent cup of tea. He stood next to Anah as she began pulling ingredients out of the cabinet to make a cake. "Do you need anything?"

"I would like the kitchen to myself, dear," Anah replied.

"Right." Moffitt looked over at Jules. "Jules, you and Antheia will have to find somewhere else to finish your tea. Anah needs the kitchen."

"Is Vanora home?" Shauna asked.

"She's out getting a few things at the market," Moffitt replied.

"I take it there's nothing for us to do, then?"

"Unfortunately, no. You'll have to be entertained by your husband."

"Leave him alone for five minutes and he'll probably do something entertaining." Shauna pulled on Troy's hat. "It's amazing how quickly he gets bored."

"I don't get bored that easily," Troy said.

Moffitt looked out the window. "Well, you shouldn't be bored for long—I see Dietrich coming up the drive."

There was no one in the parlor when Jules took Antheia out there to finish their tea. He didn't say anything when he sat in the chair at his father's desk, while Antheia took the couch. She wasn't too enthusiastic about her tea, and drank it in small sips. "It's not nearly as bad as Dad thinks it is, but I like coffee better," she said.

Jules shrugged. "That's fine. Mum prefers coffee in the morning." He was nearly finished with his own tea. "So… how are you? Long flight?"

"Yeah," Antheia said. "Always a long flight, but it's really pretty here."

"Especially in the springtime. Everything's blooming now. You should see Mum and Anah's gardens." Jules looked down at his tea, suddenly struggling for conversation. He had known Antheia for a few years now, having been her first true friend since she was found and taken in by Troy. She was most comfortable around Jules, and they liked spending time around each other. Even though some things had changed as they grew up, enjoying each other's company hadn't. He knew she could be awkward and clumsy in the ways she expressed herself, and he accepted it. After all, he was seen as weird by other kids before his parents pulled him from school and had him tutored by Anah. He still couldn't help but wonder why Antheia had a tendency to stare at him when things grew quiet, and he was afraid to ask for fear of embarrassing her.

"How are the horses?" Antheia asked.

"Wonderful. Can't believe it's been a year since I got Nightrunner. He's great with training, and riding. Dad's really impressed with him, too. Oh, how's your new horse? Calliope, was it?"

Antheia nodded. "She's great fun to work with. Bit tougher and more focused than Dad's mare, Lana."

"Lana's got such a personality, though. I love her."

"Yeah, Dad loves her, too. He's definitely more attached to her than he is with any of the other horses, and I think she really likes him back."

"He and Anah fought hard to get her, I remember that."

Talking about horses was another thing that never changed between Jules and Antheia. Even though their fathers worked with horses for different reasons, the love and care that went into them was about the same.

Anah poked her head into the parlor. "Jules? Dietrich is here, if you want to come say 'hello,' dear."

"I'll be right out, Anah."

"You also need to tell me what cake you want."

"Oh… you can make… that chocolate custard cake you made for Christmas. That was really good."

"Of course." Anah disappeared.

Jules stood, still holding his tea. He turned to Antheia. "I, um, I'm going to say 'hello' to Dietrich, if… you'd like to come with."

"Alright." Antheia looked at her mug. "Is there a spot I can get rid of this?"

Jules's eyes widened. "No. Oh, no, no, no, you don't want to do that. A-At least, not in front of Dad. Um…" He leaned in to whisper, "When everyone's distracted, I'll cover you so you can dump the tea in the bathroom sink."

"Thanks." Antheia's face reddened when Jules got so close.

"No problem." Jules headed back out to the kitchen, where Hans Dietrich, his wife Esther, and their nearly-four-year-old son, Gunther, was charging right into Troy's arms. It wasn't hard to see that Dietrich was trying really hard to look happy, but wasn't. He looked tired more than anything.

"Poor Dietrich," Antheia whispered behind Jules. "He looks like he was dragged out of bed."

Jules nodded in agreement. He walked past the happy greetings between Gunther and the others, and paused in front of Dietrich. He was nearly as tall as Dietrich, but not nearly as thin, and it was difficult to imagine that there was once a time when Jules was much shorter than everyone else.

"Hello, Dietrich," Jules said.

"Hello, Jules," Dietrich replied. "Please, tell me your father has prepared coffee."

"There's coffee. You look… awful."

"I have been up since four in the morning. I imagine I look like death."

"Sorry. Is everything alright?"

Dietrich was quiet for a moment, then said, "I will be alright when I have a cup of coffee, some breakfast, and intelligible conversation."

"If it helps, Dad was saying last night that he's looking forward to going riding with you while you're visiting."

"Good. I am looking forward to spending time with the horses. I have greatly missed Icepatch." Dietrich's tone and expression warmed a little. "How has your steed been doing?"

"Very well. He's great with training. Some things still need ironing out, but you couldn't ask for a better horse." Jules hesitated a moment. "I-I know Dad said he was planning on just going riding with you, but… I'd like to come."

Finally, Dietrich smiled. "We will see. If not with your father and I, perhaps we can go together, just the two of us, tomorrow morning."

Jules nodded. "That'll be fun. Actually, there's a trail I found just south of here that I wouldn't mind showing you."

"Alright. We will do that, then." Dietrich looked over at where Troy was trying to toss Gunther in the air and catching him. "You know, your father nearly strangled Troy for doing that with you."

Jules smirked. "Oh?"

"Yes. All because Troy came close to destroying the chandelier a few times, and you were prone to getting sick with that kind of movement. Apparently, the first two times you threw up on Troy did not get the message across."

"I have vague memories of begging him to toss me because I enjoyed it, even though it made me sick."

Dietrich looked deep in thought, but at least he looked like he was thinking about something happy. "I still remember helping your parents take care of you when you were born. Hard to believe you were once small enough to fit in someone's arms. Now look at you—you are almost as tall as your father."

"Few more inches," Jules said. "Grandpa says I might even pass Dad with how I've been growing."

"Well—" Dietrich laughed, "you have already passed Troy."

"That's not much of an accomplishment." A chill shot down Jules's spine, although he kept a grin on his face. "He's right behind me, isn't he?" He turned around to see Troy glaring at him.

"You wanna repeat that remark, kid?" Troy asked.

"He is only telling the truth," Dietrich said.

"I'm sorry, sir, I… couldn't resist." Jules nervously scratched the back of his head.

"Okay, none of this 'sir' crap," Troy said. "I was never an officer. Secondly—" he grabbed Jules in a tight hug, "happy birthday, kid."

"Thanks, Troy."

After letting go, Troy squeezed Jules's shoulder. "Still feels like yesterday that Hitch and Tully and I came here on our way home from Korea to see you for the first time. We missed your first birthday, but we didn't miss any after that."

"Nope. This has been a tradition every year, and it's always good to see you. Hitch and Tully are coming, right?"

"They should be. I'd be surprised if we don't see them within an hour. I might have to go back to the hotel and drag them out of bed—well, I'll drag Hitch out of bed. When Tully comes, be nice."

Jules frowned. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, but, you remember Eleanor? She joined the Army last year?"

"I remember."

"Well, she's serving with the military police in Saigon right now. All her letters have been great, but Tully and Mabel have had a lot of sleepless nights." Troy let go of Jules's shoulder. "I don't have to worry about you doing something that'll upset Tully."

"No, you don't."

"Good." Troy looked over at where Moffitt was holding Gunther while talking with Esther. "Your dad told me you don't have a lot of stuff you want for your birthday this year."

"I don't. I… think I've outgrown that. Anything I can use with Nightrunner is all I really want."

"It's still your birthday, and you've been doing really well in your lessons, right?"

"I have. Ask Anah."

"Alright, well, how about this—how would you like to spend a week on my ranch to learn how to work with horses in that setting?"

"Oh, that'd be great, but I don't want to intrude."

"You wouldn't be intruding if I'm inviting you. I've already talked to your dad, and he's okay with it."

"Well, you'll have to talk to Mum, too."

"I will. No need to worry about that. Besides—" Troy leaned in to whisper, "I think Antheia likes you."

"Of course she likes me. We're friends, aren't we?" Jules raised an eyebrow.

Troy sighed. "I mean, she has a crush on you. You know what that means, right?"

"Yeah." Jules looked at the floor, face reddening. "Um… excuse me." His face was still warm as he headed over to Moffitt. "Dad? Could I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure." Moffitt handed Gunther to Esther, and followed his son into his and Vanora's bedroom. "Is everything alright? You're flushed."

Jules hesitated for a moment, wondering if this was a silly thing to be nervous about. "Troy… just told me that Antheia likes me. As in, she has a-a crush on me."

"That's good to know. I thought you had similar feelings for her."

"I do. I was never sure how to… say it. I-I mean, I'm glad that she feels the same way, but now… where do we go?"

"First of all, I'm curious as to why Troy told you instead of Antheia, but we'll worry about that later." Moffitt sat at the foot of the bed. "Dating is something that you must be able to take seriously, but having fun is an essential part of it. When I say 'take seriously,' I mean you dedicate yourself to your girlfriend. You remain loyal to her. Consider her interests, learn what makes her laugh and smile, comfort her when she's upset—and she has to give you the same. A relationship is all about giving and taking, and it isn't all cute moments under a full moon." Moffitt looked distant for a moment. "Anyway, when it comes to being in a relationship, everyone is different. What works for your mother and I might not work for you and Antheia."

"I feel scared more than anything. We're already close friends. What… What has to change?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing has to change. Keep being friends. Don't overthink it. Then again—" Moffitt sighed, "you are related to me, and I still have a problem with overthinking things. Don't try to do too much all at once, but don't do too little. You don't get to see Antheia very often anyway. Make the most of it."

"Troy did mention he talked to you about taking me to the ranch for a week."

"He did, and I think it'll be a good experience for you. Just…" Moffitt drew in a breath, "be careful. I know Troy won't do anything to deliberately put you in danger, but he's still Troy. Sometimes he gets a little reckless without thinking about it."

Jules nodded. "I'll be careful."

"You can always change your mind. No one will be upset with you."

"No, I want to go."

"Alright." Moffitt smiled at him. "Any more questions?"

"When should I say something to Antheia?"

"Wait until after the party, when there's more time and less people around."

"Okay." Jules still felt nervous. "Thanks… Thanks for listening, Dad."

"Not a problem."

Jules left the room. He spotted Antheia standing by the kitchen table, observing everyone else's conversations while holding her tea. Oh, yeah, I was going to help her get rid of that tea. Jules walked over to her, glancing around to make sure his father wasn't watching. "Antheia?" he whispered.

"What?" Antheia turned to face him.

"You still want to dump that tea?"

"Yeah."

Jules watched Moffitt leave the bedroom and go over to Troy. "Okay, follow me." The two quickly darted to the bathroom. Jules stood in the doorway, though his lanky frame wasn't really an effective shield. Fortunately, he didn't have to stand there for long, as Antheia was quick to dump the tea. They were soon back in the kitchen, where Antheia placed the mug in the sink.

"Thanks, Jules," she said.

"You… Y-You're welcome. A-Anything. Uh… what should we do while we wait for everyone else to get here?"

"You can get out of the kitchen, dear," Anah said. "I need the space. Unless you wish to help."

"Do you need the help, Anah?" Antheia asked.

"No, but I would appreciate you two either making yourselves useful, or staying out of the way. I have already had to throw your father and Dietrich out for trying to steal samples of the cake and custard batter."

"We'll leave, Anah," Jules said. "Sorry."

"Actually, Jules, since this is your birthday cake, you are allowed a taste of the batter, dear." Anah passed him a spoon. "Go ahead."

"Are you sure?"

"Taste it."

Jules sighed before taking a small sample of the cake batter. "Very… chocolatey, Anah."

"That is what it is supposed to taste like, dear."

"I know. It's good." Jules glanced at Antheia, then back at Anah. "We'll get out of your way."

There was movement outside the kitchen window. The flapping of a bird's wings. Jules didn't pay much attention to it. As he headed back to the parlor with Antheia, a sharp metallic scent filled his nose, and something wet and warm began running from it. Blood? "I'll be right back." He frantically dashed into the bathroom, and closed the door while looking at himself in the mirror. Sure enough, blood was trickling from his nose. He pulled several tissues from a box on the sink, holding them to his face while pinching the bridge of his nose. Just relax. Stay calm. Keep your head level. Keep—

He heard the flapping of wings, followed by a clicking sound. He suddenly felt as though he had been dropped in cold water, and blackness swiftly overtook his vision.

Author's Note: The "Patron of Tea" sign was based on a conversation between me and CommanderRavenwolf on AO3.