Emriana's eyes widened, first in surprise, then in delight.
"Really? You have to show me! That's wonderfu-" The girl froze as something occurred to her. "Wait," she said, turning her head sideways, looking at her brother askance. "Is that how you sent me your message?" she asked, growing excited again. "That was wonderful! You must teach me."
Vambran shook his head and held his hands up, trying to calm his sister down a bit.
"No, no," he said, laughing at her exuberance. "That was something else entirely. I'm not that good with the magic, yet."
Emriana glared at her brother.
"You know what Uncle Dregaul will say, once he sees that on you," she scolded. "Sometimes I think he's convinced that every wizard in town is secretly preparing to bring back the magic plague."
Vambran started to tell his sister that he had no intention of letting his uncle see the third mark and risk his wrath unnecessarily, but he never got the chance. Emriana lunged at Vambran again, hugging him tightly once more.
"Oh, it's good to see you home," she said, her voice muffled in his shoulder. "When I got your strange message that you'd be home tonight, I knew I had to come down and meet you. Sorry I'm late. I'm glad I didn't miss you."
Vambran pulled free of her embrace and stepped back.
"Only you?" he asked, his mouth beginning to curve in a barely concealed smirk. "Sneaking out again?" he added, his tone teasing.
"No, not just me. Prandles has the carriage on the other side of the road," she said, pointing toward the black vehicle with its attendant horses. "But Uncle Dregaul wasn't going to let me come. I'm going to turn sixteen in three days, and he still treats me like I'm five."
"So how did you change his mind?"
Emriana smiled and said, "I didn't." At her brother's bemused smile and mildly shaking head, the girl pretended to grow indignant. "Stop it! I missed you!" She gestured toward the remains of the thaek bun in her brother's hand, and at the celebration going on around them. "And I knew it would take you forever to get home with all this going on, and I couldn't stand waiting."
"So you snuck out." Vambran said, still smirking. "Again."
"Yes," Emriana replied, stamping her foot in frustration. "Why does everyone keep bringing that up?" Vambran laughed.
"Well, it's no skin off my nose, but don't be hiding behind me if you get caught," he said, pretending to sound stern. "I may command an entire company of professional soldiers, but Uncle Dregaul is still the man to answer to in House Matrell." He chuckled and added, "At least this way, if you sneak back in, you have to pretend you haven't seen me yet and I get a whole new set of hugs."
In response to his teasing, Emriana stuck her tongue out at him playfully. Then she took his free hand and they turned toward the carriage together. As the pair of them approached, Prandles hopped down, bowing repeatedly at Vambran.
"Evening, Master Vambran," the driver said, his voice somewhat rough and gravelly and his accent common. "Good to have you home again. Do you have other things for me to fetch?"
Vambran shook his head and replied, "We can send a wagon to get them off the ship tomorrow, Prandles. Let's just go home."
"Very good, sir," the driver said.
He climbed up onto the bench once Vambran and Emriana were seated and the door was properly shut.
Soon, the carriage was on its way, making reasonable progress through the crowds, which were thinning somewhat because the parade was long past.
"So," the girl said as they rolled out of the port district, climbing the gentle hills upon which Arrabar had grown. "What did you bring me from Sembia?"
They were moving into the trade district by then, where the buildings were spaced more widely apart and loomed behind formidable walls. Imposing estates of white stone with highlights of burgundy, deep green, azure, or any of a dozen other rich colors sprouted numerous golden-spired domes and towers. Those were the palatial homes of the city's wealthiest merchant-nobles, and among them rested the Matrell estate.
Vambran snorted and said, "What makes you think I brought you anything?"
Emriana laughed and playfully punched her brother in the arm.
"Because it's almost my birthday, Meazel-face!"
Vambran feigned shock and dismay.
"It is?" he teased. "Oh, that's right… Em's birthday."
He tapped his chin, pretending to contemplate that news.
Emriana glared at her brother again and said, "And I know you're smarter than to show yourself around here without bringing me a birthday present."
Vambran mimed horror at the suggestion, then grinned again.
"You're not sixteen yet. You'll just have to wait until your party to see what it is."
Emriana growled in exasperation, but her delight wouldn't allow her to hold the scowl.
"Grandmother Hetta is planning something amazing, so I hear from Jaleene," she gushed. "But no one will tell me anything," she continued, pouting again. "It's supposed to be a complete surprise."
"As well it should. It's not every day you turn sixteen, you know."
The carriage continued on, passing the houses of the truly great merchant families. On the left was the ever-private House Darowdryn, whose occupants all sported hair so fair as to be almost white. Several blocks down and on the right was the sprawling Cauldyl estate, home of the most sneering and pretentious family Vambran had ever had the displeasure to meet. Up the next rise, the spires of House Mestel rose up, peeking over a whole grove of suth trees strategically planted around the entire perimeter of the grounds, just behind the outer wall, for privacy.
Vambran grimaced slightly, thinking of the Mestels, and how his grandfather had been born a bastard to one lordling of that family. Even after Obiron Matrell had changed his name and made a fortune with his own merchant company, the Mestels still looked down their noses at what they considered cousins born on the wrong side of the district. Vambran doubted it would ever be any different. House Matrell was a fine merchant empire, but it was small compared to the half-dozen or so truly ancient ones, in existence almost since the founding of the city.
The lieutenant shook his head, ridding his mind of such unpleasant thoughts.
Instead, he turned to his sister and said, "So, Em, tell me what's been going on in the great halls of our beloved homestead. How's Mother?"
Emriana shrugged and replied, "She's fine. Spends all day with Grandma, or staring out the window daydreaming, as usual."
"Hmm," Vambran grunted. "How about Evester? How are the twins?"
"Evester is turning into Uncle Dregaul more and more every day," Emriana replied with a sour tone. "The two of them go off to the offices and hunch over their books all day. He hardly has time for his own children, much less me. But the twins are fine, though I can't keep Quindy out of my rooms, lately. She wants to try on my clothes all the time. And Obiron is just a wild thing. He actually went running through the garden the other day with a loaded crossbow, screaming at the top of his lungs. I thought he was hunting one of the panthers or something."
Vambran swallowed hard at that image and shuddered. Emriana seemed not to notice. Recovering, the lieutenant forced a chuckle.
"Now you see why I joined the Crescents. Too much niece and nephew is never a good thing."
"Yeah, well, I've been lobbying Grandma to build me a private wing. After the crossbow incident the other day, I think she was almost convinced."
Vambran laughed out loud at that. He could only imagine how Grandmother Hetta, the matriarch of the family, would have reacted. He found himself honestly smiling again, thinking fondly of seeing her. He doubted she would have retired for the evening-the woman kept long hours, even at eighty-one years of age. Uncle Dregaul might have managed the day-to-day operations of the family business, but Hetta Debrinne Matrell was still the head of the household.