The silver spoon caught the moonlight.
Raylas stared at it. His smile didn't waver. "Greetings, Archmage. You know," Raylas said, tilting his head, "I've never actually tasted an apricot. My father says I'm allergic, but I think he just doesn't want me to have nice things."
Dravin's expression didn't change. The glowing lilies behind them were now fully dark, their petals curling inward like they were trying to hide.
"I'm not going to hurt her," Raylas continued, his voice taking on a wheedling tone. "I just wanted to meet her. Is that a crime? Social interaction with my peers?"
"She's one," Dravin said flatly.
"And I'm ten. We're both minors. That's practically peer-to-peer engagement under imperial law, section twelve, subsection—"
"You memorized the imperial code to justify kidnapping."
"I memorized the imperial code because I was bored." Raylas shrugged, utterly unrepentant. "The justification was a bonus. Also, technically, I didn't kidnap her. I relocated her for the purposes of private conversation. There's a distinction."
From her position on the moss, Hania watched this exchange with the stuffed rabbit pressed against her chest.
He's arguing legal technicalities with the Archmage. This boy is either the bravest person I've ever met or the stupidest.
She looked at Raylas's face. His amber eyes were still dancing with that manic energy. Oh, she realized. He's not stupid. He's bored and now he's finally found something interesting enough to risk being turned into jam.
Dravin must have seen it too, because he lowered the spoon slightly, enough to move it from "imminent threat" to "implied threat."
"You're Leonarth's Great-grandson," Dravin said.
"Yes. He talks about you constantly. Mostly complaints, but I've learned to translate. When he says 'frost-breathed menace,' he means 'my dearest friend whom I miss terribly.' When he says 'I'll turn his tower into kindling,' he means 'I wish he'd visit more often.'"
Dravin's eye twitched.
"He's going to be so angry when he finds out I took her," Raylas continued, rocking back on his heels. "He's been trying to get me to meet the Noctis heir properly for months. I just... accelerated the timeline."
"You removed her from a secure location without permission."
"I prefer 'facilitated an introduction.'"
"That's kidnapping."
"Only if the other party objects." Raylas looked at Hania. "Do you object?"
Hania stared at him. She did not object. She was, in fact, fascinated. But she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. She looked away and occupied herself with the rabbit's ear.
Raylas laughed. "See? She's fine. She's having a wonderful time. Better than the party, anyway. Did you see the cake? It was blue. Who makes a two-year-old a blue cake? The princess's favorite color is apparently lavender. The kitchen staff didn't even ask. They just assumed because of her hair. That's the level of incompetence we're dealing with in that palace."
Dravin stared at him. "You kidnapped my daughter to complain about cake."
"I kidnapped your daughter to provide superior socialization. The cake commentary was a bonus."
The temperature dropped again. Hania could see her breath. Raylas's breath was also visible, but he didn't seem to notice. Or care.
"I'm going to give you one chance," Dravin said, his voice very quiet. "You will walk back to the palace. You will explain to your great-grandfather exactly what you did and accept whatever consequences he deems appropriate. And you will never, under any circumstances, touch my daughter again."
Raylas considered this. His head tilted the other way. "What if she touches me first?"
Hania's head snapped up. What? No. I'm not touching anyone. I'm a baby. I don't touch people. People touch me. There's a difference.
Dravin's eye twitched again. "Then I will turn your legs into something non-solid and deliver you to your great-grandfather in a bucket."
"That seems excessive."
"That seems proportionate."
They stared at each other. The garden was completely dark now, the only light coming from Dravin's eyes, red and faintly glowing, and from the small stone in Hania's pocket, pulsing gently against her hip.
Something shifted in the darkness behind Dravin. Something with too many legs and too little patience.
"Lusha," Dravin said without turning. "Don't."
The darkness rippled. A figure emerged—tall, elegant, her golden eyes glowing, her dress shifting like it was made of dark silk. Her hand was raised, fingertips extended.
"I was just going to say hello," Lusha said sweetly. "The baby and I have been separated for nearly an hour. I was worried."
"You were going to web him to a tree."
"I was going to web him to several trees. Spatially. It's a very specific technique. He wouldn't have been harmed. Probably."
Raylas looked at Lusha. His grin didn't waver, but something in his posture shifted, a slight recalculation.
"Spider Queen," he said. "I've heard stories. My great-grandfather says you're the only person who ever made the Emperor's grandmother cry in public."
Lusha's smile sharpened. "Your great-grandfather is a gossip."
"He says you webbed her entire entourage to the ceiling of the Grand Ballroom and left them there overnight."
"They were rude about my dress. And it was only three hours. The ceiling was very comfortable. I checked."
Raylas laughed. "I like you. Can I visit the Tower? Great-grandfather says the library is bigger on the inside. I want to see if it's bigger than the Imperial Archives."
"No," Dravin said.
"I wasn't asking you."
"You're standing here at my mercy, holding my daughter's attention, and you're asking my employee for a tour of my library. You're asking me."
"Technically, I'm asking her." Raylas nodded at Lusha. "She seems more reasonable than you. And prettier."
Lusha's smile became something dangerous. "He's charming. I hate charming people. They always think charm is a substitute for sense."
"Is it working?"
"No. But I respect the attempt."
Hania watched this exchange with the stuffed rabbit pressed against her face. She's not going to web him. She's going to adopt him. That's worse. That's so much worse.
Dravin seemed to reach the same conclusion. "We're leaving."
He reached down and picked Hania up. She grabbed his coat with one hand, the rabbit with the other.
"Wait—" Raylas started.
Dravin's head turned. The look on his face made Raylas stop mid-step.
"You are ten and Leonarth's blood. You have done nothing tonight that I did not expect from someone with Emberlyn arrogance and no sense of self-preservation. But if you come near my daughter again without my permission, I will not turn you into jam. I will turn you into a very small frog and put you in a pond. I will let your great-grandfather find you there. And charge him rent for the pond space for the remainder of your natural life. Do you understand?"
Raylas stared at him. His grin was gone. In its place, for the first time, like genuine interest.
"I understand," he said.
"Good."
Dravin raised his hand. Hania felt the familiar pull of teleportation magic building around them.
"Archmage," Raylas said, just as the world started to dissolve.
Dravin paused.
"She's interesting. Most babies are boring. They cry or sleep or need things. She just... watches. Like she's waiting to see what happens next." He smiled again. "I'm going to remember her."
Dravin smirked, "Me too." Then they disappeared.
They reappeared in the nursery. Hania's crib. Her blocks. The spiders in the corners rustled once at their arrival and then went back to whatever spiders did when left alone.
Dravin set her down. His face was blank, but his jaw was tight. "You," he said, "are not to be left unattended."
I didn't leave. He took me. There's a difference.
"Lusha will reinforce the wards. Kofery will stay closer." He paused. "If something happens, scream. Loudly."
She blinked at him. Did he forget I'm a one years old child? I am not even listening. I don't understand. Why are you blaming me?
He turned to leave. Paused at the door.
"That boy. He will be a problem." He looked back at her. "Should I remove him?" Then he was gone.
What?! What did you just say? Hey! Come back here. You can't kill a child.
Hania lay in her crib, staring at the ceiling. Raylas's face floated in her mind. The way he'd looked at her like she was something worth chasing.
He's going to come back. And I'm going to have to figure out what to do with him.
From somewhere in the Tower, Kofery's voice drifted up, distant and panicked: "—left us there! He just left! In the middle of the palace! I had to make conversation with a duchess! About embroidery! I don't know anything about embroidery!"
Lusha's voice, calm and amused: "You did fine. The duchess was charmed. She asked if you were available for tea next week."
"She asked what?! No. No. I'm never leaving the Tower again. Master can fire me. I don't care. I'll live in the library. I'll eat conjured bread."
Their voices faded. Hania closed her eyes. Truck-kun, she thought, as sleep pulled her down, I'm going to have so much to tell you.