Bastian broached, “Shouldn’t you…”

  “No,” Peregrine turned away from the empty doorway and looked towards the pile of fabric that now took up a fifth of the bedroom. “We both need time to calm down - She was in the wrong, but I shouldn't have gotten angry like that.”

  “I did want to bring it up,” Bastian said, “Sumbrian prejudice. I was thinking I would sit you both down after dinner and talk about some, uh, cultural differences you might face while you live here… turns out I should have broached the topic sooner. I’m sorry.”

  Peregrine crouched down and picked up a roll of deep emerald silk fabric with pink printed triskelion. “No, I’m sorry… I just ran off the best person for this job. Justice is swift, I suppose.”

  Bastian recalled how fast Lish had made work of the mud landslide, and nodded. “I’ll have to apologize to Lish as well.”

  “You don’t need to do that. She needs to realize that our way of thinking isn't the only way - and in a lot of ways it's wrong.” Peregrine argued. She picked up a second bolt of fabric, this one dark twill.

  “Yes. I do.” He said, rolling back his sleeves and crouching to join her, “I made you my top priority and didn't prepare her for any of this - honestly, she kind of terrifies me."

  One, because she was so obviously closed off and Bastian never really knew what she was thinking - and two, because she was Peregrine's maid and that made her an unknown. Putting off establishing their work relationship until after they'd arrived and Lish had a chance to settle in had obviously been the wrong choice.

  Bastian stared at the mess and added, "And beg her help sorting everything when I’m done.”

  “Should I apologize?” Mr Sakiyama asked. “Would that help?”

  “Seeing all that you’ve accomplished in one afternoon,” Peregrine managed a smile for the fae, “I’d say we owe you the biggest apology.”

  “Thank you, Countess. It isn’t my place to tell Master Bastian what he does with his own house, but can I say that I was most excited when he told me I was allowed to clean his room—” Mr Sakiyama had found the box where his dowels were originally stored and was carrying it out of the room when his antennae twitched. “Oh, it appears Miss Lish has vacated the premises.”

  That got Bastian’s attention, and he stood up with an armload of yarn balls. Everyone walked over to see the elf maid storm across the front yard and leave the barrier. The gate closed behind her, cutting off visuals for the trio now standing at the window.

  “You don’t think she’s getting back on the ship, do you?” Peregrine’s voice was small with worry as she clutched her bolts of fabric tighter.

  “I don’t.” Bastian looked for a place to dump his yarn and found it. Lifting the basket, he asked, “Do you think she’s the type to abandon her mistress at the first sign of trouble?”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “No,” Peregrine relaxed a bit, then frowned. “But I wouldn’t put it past her to march all the way to Captain Persia and pay to send a letter back home to father detailing all of our misadventures just to force the issue.”

  Bastian followed Mr Sakiyama into the hallway, but said over his shoulder, “If it’s any consolation, I heard the captain isn’t leaving for a few days– and we’ll probably be married before your father gets the letter and travels the entirety of Valaria to stop it.”

  Peregrine laughed, “Actually, that does make me feel better.”

  “If I may?” Mr Sakiyama eyed the pair of them. “I have a personal question, as your housekeeper that is.”

  “What?” Bastian asked, curious what could’ve stumped the elder fae.

  “This is a marriage of convenience, is it not?” Mr Sakiyama tilted his head.

  “Yes?” Bastian replied, at the same time Peregrine answered, “It is.”

  “Oh, well, I was just checking to make sure I understood.” Mr Sakiyama nodded, accepting their reply as fact. “I was uncertain if this was something more when you asked to move the Countess right to your bed.”

  “Hiro!” Bastian coughed.

  Peregrine smiled, “I mean, we are a very amicable marriage of convenience.”

  Mr Sakiyama smiled back at the elfess. “Master Bastian insisted on preparing the master suite for you, and he hasn’t let me near his room in two years. You can see how I was confused.”

  Peregrine eyed the closed door to her official room. “Well, it’s not like I could sleep here.”

  Mr Sakiyama held his box of dowels one handed and opened the door to her suite. Bastian instinctively tensed, but the door slid aside like normal and nothing toppled, tumbled or tore open.

  Inside was more chaotic than he’d left it, but not by much. Somewhere in the room to the right, there was an extra thick mat carpet that was used to soften footsteps and provide extra cushioning for the bedding. It was under thirteen wooden boxes of assorted crafting pieces, from cotton balls in every colour to spun thread perfect for doll hair. Stacked on top of the wooden boxes were two wicker baskets, one for scrap fabric and the other for scrap lace ends.

  From the door, he could see the arched legs of the vanity - an antique carved teak desk with a mirror. The mirror was hidden behind a large thread rack, covered in two hundred spools of thread, colour coded. Under the vanity, there was his spare sewing machine and rolls of red, white, and green tissue paper that he’d bought to make paper flower crowns for the children at Yule three years ago.

  The rest of the room, floor to ceiling, was full of stacked fabric rolls, miscellaneous crates, and who knew what else.

  Bastian knew, mostly. Probably.

  “Wow. You weren’t joking when you said it was a storage room.” Peregrine said, then she got a twinkle in her eye. “Or should I call this your hoard?”

  “Ha, ha.” Bastian put down the basket of yarn and turned to the mess spilling through the adjoining door to his room, inspecting the damage from this side.

  Behind him, Mr Sakiyama said, “As you say, Countess. The master’s crafting hoard spanned the entire house until this morning. I’m not sure where we should put it.”

  The idea of moving any of his carefully collected and colourful supplies gripped his chest with the same emotion he got every time Peregrine left his sight. It was unpleasant, and he grimaced.

  Luckily, he was facing away from the pair, or they might have drawn attention to it. Or asked questions.

  He wasn’t ready for questions. He could still control himself. He was perfectly fine. Bastian just needed to breathe deep and focus on the task at hand… clearing the path between their rooms.

  “There is still a small space left in the nursery.” Mr Sakiyama came up behind him to inspect the mess. “Should be move what we can there from this side of the spill, and then bring the fabric in your room to the newly cleared space?”

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” Peregrine said, excited, “I can’t wait to see what you’ve hidden in the nursery!”

  At least she was having fun.