❣
❣ / a memory that leaves them laughing
She’s six again, and her mother’s instructions on propriety haven’t quite yet begun to sink in. Little, slipper-clad feet thump across the stone floor of the Azenari manor home, childish shrieking coming from both Meraud and her pursuers — Kenver and Ruan. At nine and eight, her brothers are far faster, but at her height she can duck around servants, proving to be rather an advantage as they pass by with arms filled with silks and pottery. Behind the trio, intent on catching up to their respective charges and avoiding stern words from Nessa Azenari, are the boys’ fencing instructor, and Meraud’s nursemaid, the latter puffing with the endeavor. The boys catch Mer first, and immediately set upon her, knowing already that her weak point when it comes to tickling is her ribs. Their respective adults catch up eventually, and her brothers are dragged to their lesson, while Meraud is delivered a rather firm lecture about decorum — she spends the entire thing wiggling with impatience. But when her nursemaid informs Nessa of Meraud’s disobedience, the little girl receives no lecture, only her mother’s bell-like laugh, and a little more tickling.