Things were moving at a dizzying pace.
Scarlet had just secured a mausoleum for her parents' remains and was now in the middle of ordering furniture; for a child she had yet to meet. Several awkward conversations had followed after she'd tried to explain that she didn’t know how old the girl was, only that she’d soon become her legal guardian. After that, a variety of clothes were ordered in different sizes. A second closet made of cedar, was being built. She ordered both baby-safe toys and toddler playsets, just in case, and made a mental note that she still needed to sit down for a very serious conversation with the imps.
Her eyes landed on a bullet point in her ever-growing list, which she circled twice with unnecessary force:
• Emphasize, highly emphasize, not to teach the toddler magic at a young age.
Scarlet frowned and thought grimly, 'I don’t need her throwing fireballs.'
She scrawled a note beneath it:
• Update the fire-ward on entire children's floor again.
The ink wasn’t even dry before she added another item:
• Hire more nannies.
• Hire a live-in nurse...
The deeper she thought about the realities of raising a child, the longer her list became. Diapers? Maybe. Tiny boots? Probably. More blankets? Absolutely. She ran a hand through her fur and muttered, “I should probably talk to someone with kids... I feel like I’m wildly unprepared.”
The steady scratch of her quill continued as more items were added to the list. Every so often, she looked up to check for new missives. Several plans had already been set into motion, and she was, once again, left behind to coordinate. This was a welcome distraction while she waited for an update.
The new nursery needed painting. She had already commissioned a local expert to review the options; not just for safety, but also for emotional comfort. They’d finally settled on a gentle light blue, said to have calming effect. From there, Scarlet began selecting fabrics to match the aesthetic she was crafting for her sister’s new room.
Then she hesitated, the swatch of sky-blue velvet in her hand.
'Am I doing this for her? Or am I doing this for myself?' she wondered. 'Are these the things I wanted as a child, or the things she’ll actually need?'
And for the life of her, she couldn’t tell which side of that question her choices landed on.
'I wish I could contact my aunts... or Sniffles. I'm so far out of my depth. This isn’t anything like running an information guild or a business.'
She sat back in her chair, the nursery plans scattered in front of her like puzzle pieces. There was no code to crack here, no enemy to outwit. Just the unknown weight of becoming someone’s safe place.