The Holyfield estate lay blanketed in silence that was unusual for the night hours.
Normally, even in the deepest part of the night, one would find a maid polishing silver in the kitchen, a guard making rounds, or perhaps Diana brewing a late-night tea to settle her restless mind.
Tonight, however, every light was extinguished, every corridor hushed, every room filled with the soft breathing of slumber.
In the family wing, beds were occupied—often by more bodies than they were designed for.
Skadi had dragged Joy into her room, and they now lay tangled like puppies, Joy's pink hair spread across Skadi's chest while the wolf-girl snored softly, her tail twitching in some happy dream.
Aisha, exhausted from her festival "activities" with Cassius, had curled into a ball in her own bed, her cat ears occasionally flicking as if chasing dream-mice.
Maria slept with one arm draped protectively over the edge of her bed, as if even in sleep she guarded her daughters.
