Little Eira walked between her parents, her small hands holding theirs as they passed the cottages near the well.
Eira, Zaldy's sister, had repurposed cloth from the old Safehouse to make dresses, skirts, and tops for the little Eira. Every night, she hand-sewed the clothes for her niece.
The little girl loved all her new clothes. They were colorful, well-fitted, and twirled when she spun around. Aunt Eira even made a small hat to match.
When she saw Tristan and Shannon sitting on the porch, Eira's face lit up. She wriggled free from her parents' hands and ran ahead.
Right there on the dirt path, she twirled her dress once, then again, letting the hem flare like a spinning flower. She stopped, turned, gave a grand bow, then blew a flying kiss to the two men watching her.
Tristan smiled and waved back. Shannon raised his mug in salute.
Athena chuckled softly. "She thinks every night is a festival."
