Settling In

--LEONA--

Of course they didn't.

o f c o u r s e t h e y d i d n ' t

"Who created these ads?" I asked him.

"Master Lycan. He oversaw the creation, editing, and selection of whose was to be shown and when."

I scoff. Not in my head, oh no. I scoff out loud. Our uncle looks confused again, and honestly, shouldn't the Head of a High House see?

"Why don't we go inside then," I offer, starting up the driveway. Thankfully my siblings are used to my antics enough that they just trot along not a second later.

Our uncle is left gaping and it brings more pleasure to us than it should. One glance at their faces and I can tell they can barely hold in another laugh.

"He's made that face so many times today," Alek whispers.

"It might get stuck like that by the end of our stay," Avé responds in kind.

I smirk along with them. At least the shock has passed for them.

________

Uncle offers us separate rooms. The twins politely decline and even asks to have a room for three prepared instead. He merely nods as if he knew that was going to happen and asks the maid to show us to the West Wing.

The pastel blues of Inyoni's House colours are not as loud as House Volpe or House Naja to name a few, and for that I'm grateful. They either haven't had the chance to deck out this location, as it was renovated recently, or they just aren't as lavish as some of the other High Houses.

Of course, our cousins were never extremely flashy. We like to think it was our influence.

And before you get confused, no we aren't blood related cousins. Our fathers were best friends, basically brothers in everything but blood. Cliché I know, but it's the easiest way to describe them. There are no secrets between them, so the fact that he wasn't home when Uncle Zeph came speaks volumes.

As we take in our room, Alek zeroes in on the bunkbed and makes a break for it. He chucks the one small bag he carried with him up onto the top bunk and grins triumphantly at Avé.

"Mine."

Avé's eyes shoot toward him and if looks could kill Alek would be in hell. She turns to me and I just shrug.

"Traitor," she grumbles and then pointedly, stalks over to the single on the other side of the wall and plants her own bag there like she's Neil Armstrong during the moon landing.

I don't fight her. Besides, all the beds look exactly the same, so I take the bottom bunk.

The room itself is pretty furnished. Shelves line the far wall, with what looks like a walk in closet in-between. Hardwood floor, probably to help with clean up, and a long desk with drawers underneath the window. There's another door though, so I wander over and open it.

This side has carpeted floors, bookshelves filled with meticulously organized books, two couches, a large armchair, more windows, a coffee table, and wow is that a massive flat screen?

Excellent.