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My son Ezra is lucky too. He has the triplets as friends to grow up with. They’ve been kind and love having him around, teaching him to walk and talk and play—Maeve and Hazel treat him like their little doll and Indie’s new trick is teaching Ezra to dance.
He gets to spend all day with them at Lucy’s. I’m lucky to have her too. Miothro uses part of my wages to pay Lucy directly so I don’t even have to worry about it. I’m paid quite generously too. Ezra and I truly never want for anything.
Annalise and I chat for a few minutes before she heads off to open the stationary store and I do a quick tidy of the counter while I wait for customers to arrive. We’re notquiteas busy as the stationary store but there’s plenty to do nonetheless. The bigger instruments need regular cleaning and tuning, the smaller ones need to be polished every few days and I always have sheet music to sort through.
Approaching the fancy jinrayha we have in stock, I pause, my fingers just barely brushing the keys. I can’t bring myself to touch it ever since I left the theater. There’s too many painful memories associated with it.
I feel as though a tear might slip out so I busy myself with polishing the large awalpo next to it. The metal is gleaming by the time I’m done and I grin. My reflection grins back at me. It’s been a tough two years but I wouldn’t have made it this far without my friends.
The shop gets busy just before lunch and I’m swamped with an influx of dark elf customers wanting instruments for their children. It seems to happen cyclically around here, every few months one chivdouyu child seems to take an interest in an instrument and suddenly all the chivdouyu mothers want their children to be the next musical prodigy.
“Hello, I’m looking for an instrument for my son.” Just on cue, another chivdouyu mother comes in looking for something for her child.
“Yes, we have a great selection,” I tell her. “What kind of instrument do you think he would be most interested in?”
“Well...something glamorous,” she says, tossing her inky-black hair over her shoulder. “Something that would bring him great prestige. His father and I are artists and he’s never expressed interest in art, so we were hoping he might be musically inclined.”
“Well, the awalpo is a good option,” I tell her. “Or the homre. It depends on how old he is and how tall he’ll be with those though. If he’s young, he might struggle with those.”
“He’s six,” she says. “And he’ll be tall.”
“I don’t recommend the awalpo for a six year old. The tension of the strings will eventually make his hands fatigued. I would recommend starting him with something like our ilya, or a corno.”
“Well...” the woman raises her nose in the air. “That corno doesn’t seem very glamorous, now does it?”
My mind flashes back to a time when I watched a certain someone play the corno. It was one of the sexiest things I’d ever seen but I wasn’t going to tell this woman that.
“Hmm. Maybe the ilya then,” I tell her. “He can always master it quickly and move to one of the bigger instruments after that.”
“That’s true,” she says with a sniff. “Hmm. I’ll take one. Which is your most expensive?”
“We have a few that were commissioned by the King,” I tell her. “His royal ilya craftsman made these right here,” I show her the heavily lacquered wooden ilyas we have on the shelf. “The sound in them is unparalleled.”
“Hmm...” she touches the wood and I watch as she picks it up and plucks the strings, trying not to cringe. They always want to touch all over the beautiful instruments and I’m terrified of one getting broken.
Miothro would never blame me but I still don’t want to disappoint him. He and Annalise are the reason I have this job in the first place. The thought of disappointing him in any way brings a knot into my stomach. So watching customers carelessly handle the instruments is nerve-wracking.
“Hmm. I think I’ll take it,” she says. I gently take the instrument from her hands and wrap it up for her, handing it off to her footman for their journey home. Once she’s paid and leaves, I flip the shop door sign around. It’s afternoon now and I need to close up shop and get my son.
I tidy the shop quickly before tallying up the purchases for the day, carefully making sure they match the ledger. Then I pack up the money and stick it into the safe in the back room.
All that’s left is bringing the inventory list to Annalise across the street and then going to pick up Ezra.
With a quick glance-over I fold up the inventory list and head across the way. Annalise has the door propped open when I arrive and I realize that she’s already picked up the triplets. Ezra is with them, playing on the floor of the shop.
“Right there,” Maeve says, pointing to something that has Ezra squealing and clapping his chubby little hands.
“Ezzy,” I call out softly. Ezra’s head swivels around and he spots me, a grin blossoming over his face, milky white teeth on display as he toddles over to me.
“Ma ma ma ma ma,” he calls, holding his hands out. I scoop him up and give him a proper cuddle, kissing his chubby cheeks while he squeals and screams in joy.
“Hi Miss Sienna!” Maeve waves to me. She’s grown taller somehow, since I saw her a week ago.
“You three need to stop growing!” I complain as I swing Ezra around, bouncing him up and down. “You’re going to be taller than me soon!”
I’m no petite thing, but the triplets seem to be constantly growing lately. It’s probably their dark elf genes at work. Annalise is a bit taller than me too, so they’ll be tall kids.
“Hi Miss Sienna!” Hazel comes out of the back with a rag-doll. Probably about to use it to play with Ezra, I think. I grin at her and bend down so she can hand it to my son.
