Page 39 of Daghel

She smiles brightly as she brings out the box filled with little ornaments that she’s been making the last several evenings andsets it on the floor between her and Daghel. Her eyebrows creep upward as her question goes unanswered until Daghel finally takes notice and nods.

“The thanika. They are not difficult to make, though there are those in the villages who specialize in such things and can do much better designs than I can create.” He raises one white eyebrow at her, his head slightly. “Do you wish for a pair of thanika, wyva?”

“It doesn’t have to be anything fancy if you have the time to make them, but I think it would be a nice addition for our rookery,” she agrees.

Daghel glances around, taking in the tree and the various bits of décor hanging made garlands of evergreen boughs, nuts, berries, ribbon, and bits of glass and metal. Truthfully, it is not as grand as what can be found in the lower villages, but that is to be expected, considering that Vorn forbids such decoration to be made by the workshops in the upper village.

He nods thoughtfully. “It could be managed. I will go down to the outskirts of Shendra Pass and get some straw bales from the village there. It is one of the clan’s biggest farming villages, and they often supply plenty of straw for all those who need or want it. We just merely return it after Gehl for feed and bedding for their animals,” he replies and then smiles with true pleasure as Anya stands on her toe and drags his head to press a kiss against his cheek.

Dropping to the flat of her feet, our wyva grins and bends down to lift the lid from the box, reveals the numerous ornaments. She plucks an ornament from it and carries it over to the tree to place it on one of the slender branches filled with small prickly leaves. Daghel’s eyes follow her and settle on the ornament for a long moment before he too bends to pick an ornament from the box. They work together, hanging each delicate ornament on the tree’s boughs one by one. I oughtto feel a little excluded since this activity requires far more nimbleness than my hands possess but I find instead that I’m enjoying the festivity of the atmosphere as they work, especially since she hums to herself to herself as she hangs the ornaments, and the sound washes over me in a pleasing embrace.

“What do you sing?”I ask her, my eyes dropping half-mast as a sense of peace settles within me, quieting the voraciousness of the flames within me.

She glances back at me over her shoulder and laughs softly before turning back to her work, hanging some little sparkly thing made of twisted bits of metal that she acquired from the blacksmith, if I am not mistaken.

“It is just an old Yulen song that children often sing,” she replies and clears her throat as she glances back at me awkwardly. “I do not have the best singing voice. While some courtesans have such talents with which they can amuse their guests, I was never one of them. My talents lie… elsewhere,” she adds with a laugh. “But I can perhaps sing a few bars for you, if you do not laugh too hard,” she adds with a teasing smile.

“And you can demonstrate your own talents later,”I purr, drawing a burst of laughter from our mate. Even Daghel chuckles reluctantly at my comments, which is a rarity that I treasure and decidedly savor.

“Whatever you decide to gift us with, we would never laugh,” Daghel assures her as he reaches over to take a dainty bit of colored glass that she tirelessly bore a hole through to string it with a bit of ribbon. He lifts it and a small smile curls the corners of his mouth in admiration before placing it on a branch of the tree.

My pleasure curls within me at his happiness so that the tiniest puff of smoke drifts from my mouth. If I did not already adore our wyva with every part of being, just seeing how muchhappiness she brought my solemn bonded male would have conquered me.

“Sing for us,”I insist with a little musical hum of my own that makes her smile widen.

“Very well,” she says with a little laugh and clears her throat again.

“Gods bless ye merry, kindly folk

May peace greet your day

Let all the gifts of Yulen come

With what sweetness that it may.

It comes like a golden power

Brightening all that’s gray.

O may it bring joy to us all

Joy to us all

O may it ever bring joy to us all.”

A deep, content happiness curls through me and the tip of my tail hooks contently in response. Now that I have the melody, I begin to languidly hum along with her, my tail curling and uncurling as she and Daghel steadily add their little ornaments to the tree amid with strings of red berries and garlands of woven fabric—scraps that she got from Linahna.

Another storm has risen out of nowhere, which makes me additionally thankful that this is our rest rotation. Although the winds have died down, the snow persists to fall in fat snowflakes that are rapidly accumulating over every surface of the palace peak and upper village. It is far better for her to be here beside the rookery’s main fire, where she can keep warm.

“Linahna should be here soon,” she says absently as she adjusts a little ornament sewn made of fabric and stuffed with fleece. “She is dropping something off as a favor to me.”

Daghel glances at her curiously but grunts in acknowledgment. However, I do not miss the secretive little smile that teases her lips. Interesting.

The tree comes together quickly, and I must admit that, looking upon it, it is a fine thing. Daghel and Anya step back to join me at my side so that we may admire it together.

“Perhaps… it is not so ridiculous,”I admit.“If you insist on dragging a tree into our rookery every Gehl, it would be worth the annoyance.”

“How sweet of you,” Anya replies, her face scrunching up with amusement and I just adore every little fine line around her eyes and mouth as this speaks to me of our mate’s happiness. She sighs and her eyes sparkle with the firelight reflected off the little pieces of colored glass. “I’ve always wanted a Yulen tree.”

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