Chapter 582: Chapter 582 - Inheritances Half-Heeded, Punishments Half-Held

"Thank you. For these."

The heiress did not answer the woman’s gratefulness in words, she simply reached out and closed Rezzue’s fingers tighter around the charms. Fully worked with the sigilscript to prevent their accidental (or fully intentional) consumption, using even more of the strong and shiny yellow metal as a setting to hold the stones firmly, and replete with a set of slotted loops and adjustable leather cords made of spare strips of the same black material she’d long ago stored away from her armband crafting. Properly rehydrated and made plenty pliable for the current use.

A simple design that could be used as either a bracelet or anklet for the children - or simply tied to the bassinets themselves, for the time being, like the new mother chose to do. Altogether, Elua also had to keep herself from trying to improve even those little sleeping zones for her god-daughters... for while they were quite quality made in her eyes, they didn’t have an inch of sigilscript at all! Not that any such item *ever* did, considering she was the only one on the continent even capable of her micro-sigil etching.

"I hope this is fine. I just don’t want to wake them."

But the limitations of others had little to do with how far she would go herself, to emulate the protective nature of the sort of people she respected most.

"You can put them wherever you think is best. Replace the leather with softer cloth ribbon, if you’d like. Have the charms sewn onto bags for separating their supplies or toys. Honestly, whatever use you prefer."

"And if they don’t want to wear them at all when they’re older?"

"Either way, they now exist. I will not be too heartbroken should a gift be tossed aside that took less time to prepare than they will take from you just to feed today... besides, if that time comes, I’m certain *you* at least would still treasure them plenty."

Rezzue nodded before the firstborn finally stirred. Her other two children had been fed, but Talizz often seemed late for that matter... or as the new mother liked to say, she was letting her younger sisters be taken care of first. Elua currently had quite enough of being around that particular maternal necessity, including all her time coaching the quietly anxious red-head in the weeks leading up to and after the labor, so she quietly made for the exit. To find much more *novel* experiences waiting.

Stepping out into the corridor while pulling the door gently shut behind her, the brunette’s spiritual sense had long informed her - well before she actually came upon the situation by physical sight - of what sat just outside the entryway into the guest wing. The morning had simply been quiet enough in the house that even her passive awareness while crafting had picked up the small, ’unhappy’ thrumming of a certain six year old... and the usual calmness of the one watching over her.

The *bound* young girl was settled against the wall in a slouching sit, reddish blonde hair shading her brown eyes. Her wrists were fettered in a single piece of dense, Earth-related material without any particular ornamentation to it that her mother had shaped as smoothly as she could. A length of the same solidified sand (encased in a soft clay) also kept her little ankles together. Proving that the trouble she was in was much more about going off toward somewhere than anything else.

’I can guess where.’

On a small stool, placed a respectful pace away, was the older woman who had once served as Onya’s nursemaid. Just like Klaytei had progressed in role and title, she was now promoted to the youngest lady of the house’s personal servant. However, currently... she simply had her embroidery hoop held over her lap and was working a needle through it to kill time during the punishment’s waiting period. All with the same ’untroubled’ kind of patience she had often brought to her job since being entrusted by her, perhaps far too idolized, Yatrel er Goltbred.

Mint eyes blinked slow at the scene, twice - for sight was a very different story than spirit reading - before Elua walked the few steps over to her obviously disheartened sister. Bending lightly at the knees, the cultivator lifted her sibling with one arm under the bound legs and the other supporting her back... though inside she imagined she was treating her more like she were a particularly large but not particularly inconvenient box that merely needed to be relocated.

"I’ll take this."

"Elua?!"

A small squeak of surprise was followed by an immediate, *indignant* attempt to wiggle out of the firm grip and back onto her capable feet. The attempt obviously did not succeed and El’s expression throughout was perfectly placid. Neither too warm nor too cold, just the kind of look that said she was waiting... but in a much different way than the servant watching over their sisterly affair. Onya’s mouth opened with an excuse. Closed because it wasn’t believable. And then opened again with the truth - that was still arguably as much of an excuse.

"I just wanted to go see you."

An eyebrow tilted and rose at the sweet little voice... for the nursemaid was most surprised by the behavior. She certainly hadn’t heard her charge act this way in all these years - and Ondua had complained to others more than once that his second daughter, who was lovely and kind in her own ways, was still far less *affectionate* before and at her current age than Elua ever was. The brunette, who now looked more the part of an adult in reality than she would ever exist in her father’s heart, hadn’t shifted at all.

Her eyes were still staring into the shaking brown. As if being imperturbed would draw out all the secrets of the cosmos.

"...I was being patient. After being told to leave you alone. I really was!"

...

"But it was taking a really long time. I thought maybe you forgot I tried to come see you this morning, or... or..."

The small voice trailed away when still no acknowledgment or *apology* came. She finally squirmed again and looked over at the only other person around, though the former-nursemaid that was usually so particularly accommodating to antics that would cause Yatrel to intervene (and therefore force extra meetings)... had gone back to her embroidering already. The Goltbred’s eldest was occasionally a force of weather rather than a person, the staff who loved her and tolerated her knew this well.

And this woman in particular had learned, when being told to leave them alone in the nursery, that the safest behavior during the time the windstorm was blowing through her area of work was to simply remain hunkered down and unobtrusive. Assuming there were no literal ditches or ravines to dive in for cover. Or doors to escape through and leave them in privacy.

"...Mom said to wait... if you didn’t want to be bothered. But I tried to run over anyway when I heard you weren’t with Qat..."

"Aurehl."

The soft glow in those halcyon mint eyes might have been the servant’s imagination, though it had also been years since she’d heard the ’sweet’ voice speak it. She straightened her posture a fraction more and sat her hobby work aside - another kerchief with two brown stone gauntlets embroidered on it. An item that no one in the extended household had actually *asked* for, despite almost everyone *having* one given to them by now.

"Yes, Lady Elua?"

"Please go inform my mother that I am ready to be bothered now, within reason. I’m still taking this one with me."

"Of course."

A small bow was delivered before the personal servant gathered all her things, tucked under one arm, with the stool pushed back into an unobstructive spot. Then the woman moved swiftly after being given a reason to go see the Dame Goltbred once more this morning. Though not quite swift enough to miss seeing the fairly dainty thumb and forefinger of the eldest daughter of the house as it reached toward the seamless band of very dense Earth holding Onya’s ankles.

Or how they pinched down almost lazily, after finding a stress point that no common observer would have known to identify. The Element construct cracked with a sound much like a plate being dropped in the kitchen shortly before both halves hit the floor with far more solid thuds than that ease of breaking implied. Aurehl’s pace did not visibly change as she walked away... but the small, fearful adjustment of breath as she continued was the kind of thing that staff of cultivator households learned to suppress.

’Well, with those as attuned to reading strong emotions as we can be, letting us know you are that scared was usually a fine way to *improve* the mood of an average cultivator - back in Uvraneht’s time. But a good way to ruin most anyone’s mood in this one. So peaceful...’

"We’ll leave your arms like that for a bit. That way I can reasonably say I only defied half of her punishment, hm?"

Onya’s legs were rubbed softly back to circulation with some body temperature, oscillating rings of pressurized carbon dioxide that undulated from ankle up to her thigh. Making any stagnant blood begin to move up and starting a vasodilation process that was part manual stimulation and part infusing the skin with the gas, which ’tricked’ the local red blood cells into dumping their oxygen into the area. Feeling the tingle... the girl began wiggling her toes against her sister’s hip while Elua herself just continued walking.

"Mom really doesn’t like it when you tell her that."

"Tell her what?"

"That you only followed half of what she said..."

Brown eyes quivered as they stared up at the face of the sibling she had scattered but powerful memories of. The youngest of the family was rather more concerned that El would get in trouble than that *she* already had. A feeling which amused the ancient cultivator, who had done nothing but cause trouble to the little girl for nearly five years, to no end.

"I know. Don’t worry, I’m just trying to make you look better."

"Are you saying I look bad?!"

"Did you think you looked *good*, sitting there sullen and stymied?"

"Urk! I..."

A short adjustment of the human package turned into a rapid lift into the air. Onya was settled on her sister’s shoulders before she knew what was happening, with her still shackled wrists cushioned by some invisible pressure... that wouldn’t let them ram into the top of the eldest Goltbred daughter’s brown hair. Of course, it didn’t let her fingers reach down and pull or play with it either! A fact which annoyed the rider greatly.

"Well. You are my sister so you’re always cute, but if we move away from subjective physical sight and into the realm of thoughts regarding subjective moral principles... I think you were still fine."

The slightly flat voice carried a hidden mirth that could only be held by a relative who knew plenty of old stories, told to her by a mother who had sought to connect with her possessive-minded daughter. Yatrel was not exactly a paragon of humanity when it came to doing as she was told... and while the woman herself had assumed a lot of that was to do with growing up as an orphan, the reincarnator was sure it was simply a matter of who she was as a person. Innate mental traits of some sort that was surely passed down by genetics, just like the reddish-blonde hair.

"You should ask her some day when she is getting onto you for not listening to what she says... about the oxen wagon full of mining picks. Just don’t be smug about it. Or surprised that our mother is not as perfect as she seems."

The six year old worked through the implication of all that for a few more seconds before deciding she did *not* entirely understand it. Getting injured, leaving her guild, there was plenty about the woman’s life that the child could tell meant the Bloody Duelist was not ’perfect’. But, she was still prepared to enjoy the result of a good story - after all, the ones Ondua told about little Elua... after Onya pestered him enough to stop talking about *his own* early life... were always very enjoyable!

"Okay. I’ll ask her next time I see her."

"Er. Wait until I’m not also there, at least. She’ll know it was me that planted it in you either way, but I don’t want to be there for the look she would give me."

"Oh. Alright."

Every step took them closer to the sitting room and Qatrand. But every very slight jostle side to side, for the one up top, made a thought rattle in her young brain. Until her lips parted and she admitted to the mischievous desire.

"I kind of want to call out loud for her now, anyway. So mom sees us together."

"You *would* want that."

The pair of hands securing her little knees let go and then tapped back down twice. Not hard, but not too soft that she couldn’t feel a bit of love-tap impact within the physical action. As well as the copious ’love’ and ’pride’ pressing down onto her from the reincarnator’s intent.

"Which is why I know you’re ours~"

Her sister was definitely her sibling, her father’s daughter, and her mother’s child.