Page 12 of Nanny for the Demon's Twins

5

KARN

Iclimb the stairs from my workshop, muscles aching from a long day at the forge. The scent of roasting meat and herbs hits me first, then the sound of giggling.

"Hold still," Luna commands with all the authority a two year old can muster.

"Yes, we're making you pretty," Nova adds, her tiny hands clutching sections of Mira's dark hair.

Mira sits cross-legged on a cushion by the hearth, stirring something in the pot while the twins perch behind her on chairs. Her long brown hair falls like silk between their small fingers as they attempt to weave it into what I assume are meant to be braids. The firelight catches the strands, turning them to liquid amber.

"Of course, my little artists." Mira's voice carries that gentle patience I've never mastered. She doesn't flinch when Luna tugs too hard, just keeps stirring with steady movements.

I lean against the doorframe, not wanting to interrupt. The twins have tangled most of her hair into uneven knots rather than braids, but Mira doesn't seem to mind. My fingers twitch with an unfamiliar urge to smooth those dark strands myself, to feel if they're as soft as they look.

"Uncle Karn!" Nova spots me first. "We're making Mira beautiful."

"More beautiful," Luna corrects, tongue stuck out in concentration as she wrestles with a particularly stubborn section.

"She doesn't need help with that," I mutter before I can stop myself. Heat creeps up my neck when Mira's green eyes meet mine, a slight blush coloring her cheeks.

"You can help too," Nova declares, patting the space beside her. "Your fingers are bigger."

I shake my head, keeping my distance. "I'd just mess it up. These hands are better with metal than hair." I flex my scarred fingers to prove the point.

"Nonsense." Mira's voice is soft but firm. "Everyone can learn."

The twins cheer their agreement, and suddenly I'm being pulled forward by two sets of tiny hands, their violet eyes - so like my own - sparkling with mischief.

The twins maneuver me onto a cushion beside Mira. Her scent - herbs and fresh bread - mingles with the woodsmoke. I try to focus on Luna's detailed instructions about proper hair-braiding technique instead of how close Mira's shoulder is to mine.

"Like this, Uncle Karn." Luna separates a section of dark silk into two parts. "Over and under."

My fingers feel clumsy next to their small ones. I'm used to shaping metal, not handling something this delicate. A strand slips through my grasp.

"Here." Mira reaches up, her fingers brushing mine as she guides them back to her hair. "Start at the roots and work down slowly."

The contact sends a jolt through my chest. I clear my throat. "Sorry if I pull too hard."

"You won't." Her voice carries absolute certainty. "You're gentler than you think."

Nova hums a tune their mother used to sing while she works on her section. The familiar melody makes my throat tight. Mira picks it up after a few bars, her voice rich and warm as mulled wine.

"You know that song?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

"It's an old lullaby. I heard it before..." She trails off, tension creeping into her shoulders. I recognize that look - memories best left buried.

"Our mama sang it," Luna announces, breaking the moment. "Uncle Karn, you're doing it wrong again."

I've somehow tangled three sections into a knot. "Told you I'm better with metal."

"No quitting," Nova declares, pointing her tiny finger at me. "Practice makes perfect."

Mira laughs, the sound loosening something in my chest. "They're strict teachers."

"Worse than my old forge master." I manage to untangle the mess I've made. "Though he never offered to make me 'beautiful.'"

"We can do your hair next!" Luna's eyes light up.

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