The kids slept like the innocent, utterly exhausting bundles of energy they were. Prince Leonard, nestled between Alfon and a snoring Garret, looked profoundly peaceful, one small hand flung over his eyes, the other clutching a stuffed toy badger Syd had produced from somewhere.
Elara, the solemn girl, slept curled tightly on her side near Garret's pallet, her expression serene. Alfon and Alsa were sprawled with the abandon of children, completely at home. The blanket fort, a lopsided masterpiece of sheets and chairs, stood guard over them.
The adults, however, did not sleep.
Eamond lay on his thin bedroll on the cold stone floor of the storage room next door, Vale a silent shadow against the wall near the door. Every creak of the old building, every rustle of fabric or sigh from the dorm beyond the thin wall, sent Eamond's heart into his throat.
