MARGARET’S POV
I was halfway through my brunch—poached eggs, a slice of toasted brioche, and berries arranged neatly along the porcelain rim—when Paxton cleared his throat from a respectful distance.
“Luna Margaret,” he said, hands folded behind his back, “Shall I take Miss Seraphina some tea?”
My fork paused midway to my mouth.
“Seraphina?”
He nodded. “She has been in the pack library all morning.”
“The library?” I echoed, setting the fork down as nostalgia rippled through me.
He nodded again.
A small, wistful smile pulled at the corners of my lips. Sera had always been fond of the library. She had a habit of forgetting the world when she was in there.
I rose to my feet. “Prepare some tea and biscuits. I’ll take them to her myself.”
Paxton blinked in surprise but bowed again. “Of course, Luna.”
