Paper Birds

A Brewing Storm

   Darcy awoke to a beautiful rainy day.

   She peered out across the city, which was shrouded in the morning's fine mist. Though she had walked the streets of Avemir since she was a babe, it felt mysterious, like a magical forest yet to be explored. Droplets ran down her window as she watched the blush roses beneath her windowsill dance in the rain.

   As Darcy began to order her mind for the day, she wondered vaguely whether Madeline would be joining them. Being the eldest of the three sisters and heir to the Heartlands, Madeline was swamped with work every hour of the day. Darcy frowned. She had been doing her best to stay out of her sister's way for the most part -- ever since last month's trip, she had been locked away in her study from sun-up to sun-down, with only brief breaks for meals and sleep. Perhaps it was time to try her luck at persuading her sister to join them today.

   She sighed. Madeline or not, she was sure Philippa (or, as the Deirings called her, Pippa) would be making an appearance. She and Geneveive were almost inseparable, and she had arrived without fail at nine o'clock sharp for the past three weeks. Darcy almost wished the rain would be enough to discourage her.

   Plans set, Darcy moved away from the ledge and changed out of her night-shift. After touching up her appearance in the mirror and fluffing the pillows leaning against her and her sisters' headboards, she was off down the stairs for a late breakfast.

   "G'mornin', Darcy!" a woman called from the kitchen as Darcy dipped her head inside.

   "Good morning, Ebba." Darcy returned warmly, leaning forward to embrace the woman.

   Ebana, or Ebba, as young Madeline had dubbed her almost twenty-five years ago, had cared for the Deiring sisters for as long as anyone could remember. She was a second mother of sorts for the girls, and young at heart, despite long hours and the budding of grey hairs. Even though Darcy was about to turn nineteen in the winter, and it was clear that Ebba's role as nanny had long since been retired, the girls insisted Ebba remain a regular presence at Foxwood. After only a few hours of fervent deliberation, Ebba had been given a key and a permanent room within the manor to do what she pleased with.

   "I almost broke my schedule," Ebba gestured to the kitchen window, where rain cascaded over the glass, blurring the yard and the brick wall beyond which hemmed in Foxwood's sprawling estate. She turned back to Darcy with a coy grin. "But then I thought, 'Now then, where would my girls be without me'?"

   "Lost, surly!" Darcy replied with a quick kiss to the older woman's almond cheek.

   "Hm," Ebba raised an eyebrow and placed her hands on Darcy's shoulders, tilting her head back as if to inspect her. "Lost in a dream, more like! Do you always sleep in this late, or am I not worth getting up for anymore?" 

   "Ebba..." Darcy managed to extricate herself both from her nanny's grip and her teasing with a quick squeeze. "I've got to go check on Gene."

   "Hm," Ebba grunted again.

   Passing under the archway and climbing the stairs, Darcy entered the den. Though not nearly as big as the lounge, which was primarily used for hosting parties and the like, whatever the den lacked in size it made up for with its amenity. 

   Velvet-lined lounge chairs were strewn across the room, pleasantly filling empty spaces and warming the room with hues of red, white, and beige. Fluffy throw pillows were generously distributed around the space, and bookshelves lined the cream-colored walls, packed with tomes. The pitched roof and low-hanging, candle-lit chandeliers further elevated the warm, secluded feeling of the room. Parallel to the doorway was a raised platform of handsome dark wood. Behind it, the fireplace yawned. Darcy remembered plays she and her sisters would act out on that stage, cushioning the wooden floors with couch pillows for dramatic swoons.