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The adults are talking. And talking. And talking. They’re in the courtyard welcoming their guests, and apparently the Howes visiting means Mother and Father both have to be there. Alric watches them from the nursery window, wishing he could be down there with Fergus and Nathaniel instead. He’s learnt the protocol. He knows how to greet a guest properly, how to stay still, when to bow and when to shake hands. What are his etiquette lessons for if he’s stuck babysitting? It’s the nursemaid’s job, not his. But the stupid knife-ear has gone home for her sister’s wedding, and Mother said he was old enough to be responsible for his sisters while she was attending the guests.
That's so unfair.
Mother should have just denied the nursemaid leave.
“Alric!”
“Not now, Rhia.”
Baby Hilde coos in his arms. He ignores her as well, more interested in watching the courtyard below.
“Alric,” Rhia says, tugging at his tunic. “Alric. Alric, Alric, Alric!”
“What do you want, Rhia?” he snaps. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“I want Aelin.”
“She’s not here.”
“Read me a book.”
“Later.”
“Now!” she yells, like the brat she is. “Read me the one about rocks!”
Alric squeezes his eyes shut. Of course she’s all about her stupid rocks. She always wants that boring book. Aelin has read it to her so many times that he knows half the words by heart. He's pretty sure hearing it one more time would make his ears bleed. He snatches the book from her hands and tosses it aside before turning back towards the window, watching as their parents and the Howes disappear into the main hall.
“Where’s Aelin?” Rhia insists. “Aelin reads me books.”
“She’s dead.”
Rhia goes quiet.
“Father’s hounds ate her,” Alric adds with a quick look over his shoulder. She pisses him off and he finds her crestfallen expression terribly amusing.
There is a blessed moment of silence. Alric leans against the window frame, watching the guardsmen and servants disperse and return to their usual duties now that the guests are inside. Maybe Mother will come back soon. Maybe he can go find Nate, then.
His respite doesn’t last long, because Rhia starts crying.
Not the little whine she sometimes makes when she doesn't get her way either—no, she puts her entire lungs into her wails. She sounds like an abomination.
“Maker’s breath, Rhia. Stop crying.”
She only cries harder, fat tears rolling down her cheeks as she flails and kicks at him.
“Stop that or I’ll give you a good reason to cry, you little—”
Hilde startles from all the shouting. Her tiny face scrunches up, and suddenly she is screaming too.
Alric winces.
Oh, no.
If Mother finds them like this, she is going to be furious.
He bounces Hilde in his arms. “Hush. Hush, now.” It does nothing. Rhia is still sobbing and Hilde’s shrieks are even louder. What is he supposed to do? He was told to look after them. He is supposed to be responsible. He holds Hilde tighter against his chest and reaches down to pat Rhia’s red head, but she pushes his hand away.
“Aelin isn’t dead,” he says, because he has to say something to calm her down. “She’s coming back. I only said it because you were annoying.”
Rhia’s wails quiet to loud sniffles but she keeps crying. Alric doesn't know what else to do. For a moment, he wonders if smothering her with a cushion could work, but he’ll probably end up in more trouble. What does Mother do when he is upset? Maybe that could work.
After a moment’s hesitation, he leans down and presses an awkward kiss to the top of Rhia’s head.
“I’m sorry,” he insists. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Rhia stares up at him with wide, wet eyes, shocked into silence. Alric wipes her cheeks with his thumb and then ruffles her hair, just like Mother does. Her face crumples again and he worries she will start crying again, but instead she throws her arms around him.
Alric catches her against his side, still holding Hilde with the other arm. The baby’s shrill cries soon soften to little hiccups, and then to quiet coos as she reaches to play with Rhia’s long hair.
Alric lets out a relieved breath.
“Promise you won’t tell Mother,” he whispers. “And I’ll read you your stupid book.”
Rhia sniffs. “The whole book?”
He rolls his eyes. He'll be stuck here forever, but at least the crisis has been averted. “Yes. The whole book.”
“Okay.”
Alric retrieves the book from where it lies awkwardly splayed open on the ground and settles on the plush bench by the window. He has to help Rhia up because the seat is too high for her short legs. She might be a demon in human form, but she’s a puny one. With both his sisters tucked against him, he starts to read aloud. He supposes it is not entirely useless—his tutor will be pleased to know he has been practicing reading, at least.
By the time Mother peeks through the nursery door, both his sisters are asleep against him, and Alric is still dutifully reading.