The True Confessions of a Nine-Tailed Fox

Chapter 85: A Happy, Blessed, and Functional Family

Within one month of adopting Lodia's family, I had learned two things. One: The Kohs were a happy, blessed, and functional family. Two: Happy, blessed, and functional families left no room for a well-intentioned sparrow to improve their lives.

Although Lodia's mother had died several months back, her father and grandmother had stable, well-paying jobs and weren't doing anything to jeopardize them. They neither drank nor gambled, nor had workplace meltdowns, nor spent lavishly to cope with their grief. (Presumably Lodia's father, at least, felt grief.)

No, they spoke politely, carried out their duties, brought their wages home, budgeted and tracked their expenditures, and paid their servants on time. They even owned their bizarre house-on-stilts! I couldn't find the slightest hint of financial difficulty!

As for improving their personal lives, Lodia's father, Rohanus, could use a new romance, but he was just so – nice. That was his defining characteristic. Niceness. Admittedly, it made for a more peaceful household than if he, say, fought with his mother or beat the cook, but it did lead to a distinct lack of variety. Who'd marry such a bland man?

On the other hand, Lodia's grandmother, Missa, wasn't not-nice, but I'd describe her as more...pointy. Some grandmothers were warm and huggable (according to children's tales, anyway). Not the Maga Architecta of Lychee Grove. Like Mistress Jek, she didn't take any nonsense from anyone – but unlike Mistress Jek, she rejected aforementioned nonsense in the most courteous way possible. Actually, in that sense, she reminded me of Aurelia.

I didn't want reminders of Aurelia.

Mostly because they led to reminders of Taila and Bobo and Stripey and – nope, not thinking about that. I'd already made up my mind to give Lychee Grove a shot.

Since Rohanus was hopeless and Missa needed no help, I'd see what I could do about Lodia.

"Loddie! Loddie! Art thou home – urp! Uh, good day, Mistress Fan."

Taking off from Lodia's shoulder, I flew to the window that overlooked the street. The cook had just thrown open the front door and was scowling at a young man. He was returning a winsome smile.

Oh hey! It was that "Katu" whom I'd seen in my first life as a sparrow! The young man who'd been sent to the market to buy green onions and ended up spouting treason instead. I settled down for another round of street entertainment.

The cook wasn't nearly as happy to see him. "Master Len Katulus. Why are you shouting up at windows? The whole world can hear you."

On cue, Lodia's baby brother woke up and started wailing. Unfortunately, the wetnurse was watching him upstairs, which meant that only the ceiling separated him from me – and he was loud. Next, the baby who lived next door heard him through the shared wall and joined in. I hopped from side to side, wishing I could clap my wings over my ears.

Behind me, Lodia laid aside the mirror cover she'd been embroidering.

Since his smile obviously wasn't working, Katu swept a florid bow. "Forgive me, Mistress Fan. I bear tidings of great import, and in my excitement, I fear I have offended."

Fancy phrasing failed to impress her. "Tidings of great import? For whom, pray tell?"

His eyes widened as if he couldn't believe that she needed to ask such a question. "Why, for Miss Lodia, of course! The fair and gracious Lady Anthea hath come to visit the Lady of the Lychee Tree once more!"

Ugh, seriously? Again? Weren't there other tree spirits for that raccoon dog to harass?

Lodia, however, did not share my disgust. "Lady Anthea?" She pattered across the room to lean out over the sill. "What news, Katu?"