The hawk arrived at the manor like a meteor with feathers.
It crashed against the manor window, terrifying three servants and one unlucky teapot.
Tara dropped her quill mid-signature. Therese looked up from her ledger and muttered, "That better not be another supply request."
The bird puffed itself up—proud and slightly offended—and tapped the glass as if it had urgent opinions.
Tara threw open the window. "You nearly gave me a heart attack, you ridiculous bird!"
The hawk ignored her. It stretched out a leg, showing off the sealed message tube.
Therese plucked it free. "From Eira," she said, frowning. "That was fast."
They read it together.
To Tara and Therese,
Please read calmly.
Tristan is fine. No injury. He is with us.
He is pregnant.
He ate soup.
Shannon is here.
— Eira
Silence.
Tara blinked once. Twice. Then again—because surely her eyes were broken.
Therese's hand trembled. "Did that say… pregnant?"
The hawk gave a smug chirp, as if confirming.
