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"I thought we've lived in moonlight falls our entire life."

"your entire life, little one, not ours. a fae life is a long time, and when particularly nosy people notice that fact, it is safest to remove yourself from suspicion. not everyone can be trusted."

"what do you mean by that?"

mab did not answer that question. "we own a few houses to travel between in such cases, but the one to which we are return in veronaville was the first your father and I shared together."

the mother and daughter sat on a finely crafted, but well worn, black, antique piano bench. mab, a fairy woman with a regal air of eternal night, played a haunting minuet underneath their conversation. helena, a cunning little thing that just breached the cusp of adolescence, stared her mother down in that way which teenagers have of suddenly seeing through any adult bullshit.

"so who did you not trust there?"

"helena-" there was a curt and stern warning in mab's tone.

"fine. what's the house in veronaville like then?"

a certain tension released from the shoulders at this sudden pivot. helena was a talented hunter, much like her father. she knew how to redirect a target for a better opportunity and wait.

"oh, beautiful old stonework, dark wood floors, and a regency facade. there are workers refitting the kitchen and plumbing to more modern appliances now."

lysander, a boy of the same age and a similar disposition to helena came up the stairwell. beyond the curve of their smile and the cold clarity in their eyes, it would be difficult to tell the two were twins.

"when are we moving?" he had obviously been listening to the entire conversation from just below. mab pulled her hands away from the keys and the swell of music fell silent.

"midsummer."