pressing a kiss to Kiara's temple Now, you have your scarves? The English autumn won't wait for you to find them in your trunk.

leaning on his serpent-headed cane, a rare smile softening his features She'll be fine, Cissa. She has her brother to look after her.

snorts, hauling one of the trunks onto his shoulder Look after her? She's the one who keeps me out of trouble.

grins up at him, golden-brown from months of Mediterranean sun Someone has to.

takes Kiara's hand, helping her into the carriage Write when you arrive. Your mother worries.

from behind him, softly We both do.

vaults in after her, settling into the velvet seat We're seventeen, Mother. Not children.

her eyes lingering on Kiara You'll always be my children.

Wonder if Nott's already there. He said he'd be at the station early.