Margotte had become cautious.
It was a strange feeling for someone who'd spent her previous life pushing boundaries and ignoring her body's limits. But the memory of that moment on the stairs... the sickening lurch of falling, the certainty that this second chance was about to end as abruptly as the first, had lodged itself somewhere deep in her infant consciousness.
Now she stayed away from edges. Kept back from stairs. Crawled more carefully.
Adrian noticed, of course. He always noticed.
"You slow now," he observed during one of their supervised play sessions, watching as she deliberately avoided the area near a slightly raised hearth.
"Careful," Margotte corrected, arranging wooden blocks with focus. "There's a difference."
"Same thing."
"Not same."
Adrian crawled closer, studying her face with those too-knowing blue eyes. "Still scared?"
Margotte's hands stilled on the blocks. She wanted to deny it. Wanted to snap back with something cutting. But lying to Adrian had never worked. They knew each other too well, even across two lifetimes.
"Maybe," she admitted quietly.
He was quiet for a moment, then pushed one of his blocks toward her. An offering. A truce.
"Okay," he said simply. "I watch edges. You watch other things."
Something warm unfurled in Margotte's chest. She pushed a block back toward him. "Deal."
***
The birthday preparations consumed both households for weeks.
"A joint celebration!" Lady Rosalind declared, practically vibrating with excitement. "How perfect that you're only five days apart. We can make it one grand party instead of two separate ones."
Margotte, sitting in her high chair during this pronouncement, felt her eye twitch. A joint party. With Adrian. Of course.
"Wonderful idea," Marianne agreed. "We'll invite everyone! Family, friends, neighbors! Oh! I should write to Helena. She'd love to see the babies."
"Lady Helena with the twin boys?" Rosalind perked up. "They must be about four now?"
"Just turned four last month. Rambunctious things, from what she writes. But it would be lovely to have older children at the party. They can help entertain our little ones."
From his own high chair, Adrian caught Margotte's eye and made a face that clearly communicated: More people. More noise. Help.
She made one back that said: I know. Terrible.
At least they agreed on something.
***
The day of the celebration arrived with chaos.
The Valemont estate had been deemed larger and more suitable for entertaining, so the party was held there. Servants rushed about with decorations. Tables groaned under elaborate cakes and pastries. The gardens had been prepared for outdoor games.
Margotte, dressed in an elaborate white gown with so many ruffles she could barely move, felt deeply uncomfortable with all the attention.
"There's the birthday girl!" An elderly aunt swooped down to pinch her cheeks. "Look at those orange eyes! So unusual! So striking!"
Margotte endured the pinching with gritted baby teeth.
Adrian, in a tiny formal suit that made him look like a miniature lord, was getting similar treatment across the room. He caught her eye over his uncle's shoulder and mouthed: "Help. Me."
She mouthed back: "No."
"Please?"
"Suffer."
His glare promised future retaliation.
The party proper began in the garden. Both babies were installed in an elaborate double-seated high chair, custom made for the occasion, where they could observe the festivities. Guests cooed. Adults chatted. Everything was insufferably boring.
Then a commotion at the garden gate announced new arrivals.
"Helena!" Rosalind rushed forward. "You made it!"
A elegant woman in traveling clothes entered, followed by two small boys. Even from a distance, Margotte could tell they were twins—same dark curly hair, same brown eyes, same general features.
The similarities ended there.
"There's cakes!" the first twin shouted, breaking free from his mother's hand and charging toward the dessert table with the subtlety of a small tornado. "So many cakes! Mama, look! That one's bigger than my head!"
"Lysander!" Lady Helena called after him. "Manners! We just arrived!"
The second twin walked calmly beside his mother, observing everything with quiet intensity. Where his brother was chaos in motion, this one was stillness personified.
"I'm so sorry," Helena was saying to the hosts. "Lysander gets excited. Evander, darling, can you please retrieve your brother before he traumatizes the kitchen staff?"
The quiet twin, Evander, nodded once and walked purposefully toward the dessert table where his brother was trying to climb a chair to reach a particularly tall cake.
"Fascinating," Adrian murmured beside Margotte. "Same face, different... everything."
Margotte nodded, watching as Evander somehow convinced Lysander to step down and behave, though she couldn't hear what was said. The loud twin seemed to actually listen to the quiet one, which was interesting from a behavioral psychology standpoint.
The twins were brought over to meet the "birthday babies."
"This is Lysander and Evander," Helena introduced. "Boys, these are Lady Rosalind's daughter Margotte and Lady Marianne's son Adrian. Can you say hello nicely?"
"Hello!" Lysander shouted directly into Margotte's face. "You're really small! And your eyes are weird! But good weird! Like fire! Do they make fire? Can you shoot fire from your eyes?"
Margotte recoiled, pressing back into her seat.
"Lysander, inside voice," Evander said quietly. His own voice was barely above a whisper, but something in it made his brother immediately lower his volume.
"Sorry," Lysander said, only slightly quieter. "You're still really small though. Smaller than my dog! We have a dog! His name is Sir Barksley! Do you have dogs? Do you want dogs? Dogs are the BEST except when they eat your breakfast but that only happened twice—"
"Lysander," Evander interrupted gently. "Breathe."
The loud twin took a dramatic breath, then continued at the same rapid pace. "Right! Breathing! Important! Mama says I forget sometimes! One time I talked so much I got dizzy and fell in a fountain—"
"True story," Helena confirmed with a long-suffering sigh. "Evander, dear, why don't you stay here with the babies while I take your brother to meet the other children?"
Evander nodded and stepped closer as his mother led Lysander away, still chattering at maximum volume about fountains and dogs and something about a chicken.
With the hurricane departed, Margotte could finally observe the quiet twin properly.
He was studying her and Adrian with the same intense focus she'd seen earlier. Not in an unfriendly way, just... analytical. Taking in information, processing it behind those dark eyes.
Finally, he spoke. "You understand more than you show."
It wasn't a question.
Margotte's eyes widened. Adrian went very still beside her.
Evander's lips curved in the smallest smile. "See? You do. Most babies don't... don't react like that. To words. You knew exactly what I said."
"Smart guess," Adrian said carefully, his baby voice neutral.
"Not guess." Evander pulled a small wooden horse from his pocket and set it on the edge of their high chair tray. "Gift. For birthday."
"Just one?" Margotte asked before she could stop herself. "We both have birthday."
"Oh." Evander considered this, then pulled out a second horse. "Here. One each. Fair."
Margotte picked up the horse closest to her. It was beautifully carved, smooth from handling. Clearly a treasured toy, not some random gift.
"This yours," she observed.
"Was mine. Yours now." Evander said it with the matter-of-fact tone of someone stating an obvious truth. "I have others. You need first one."
There was a simplicity to him that Margotte found... refreshing. No hidden agendas, no competition, no constant measurement and comparison. Just straightforward logic and quiet observation.
"Thank you," she said.
"You're welcome." Evander settled onto the ground near their chair, apparently content to sit in companionable silence while the party raged around them.
Adrian was giving Margotte a Look.
"What?" she asked.
"You like him."
"He's quiet. Better than loud one."
"You like him," Adrian repeated, a note of something unidentifiable in his voice. "You smiled. Actual smile."
"So? He gave toy. Polite to smile."
Adrian's eyes narrowed. "You never smile at me when I give things."
"You never give things. You take things."
"Because you take mine first!"
Evander watched this exchange with interest, his head tilting slightly.
"You two fight a lot?" he asked.
"Yes," they answered in unison, then glared at each other for the synchronization.
"But you like fighting," Evander observed. "It's... your way of talking."
Margotte blinked. That was... actually remarkably insightful for a four-year-old. Or anyone, really.
Adrian seemed equally surprised. "Maybe."
"Definitely maybe," Margotte corrected, then caught herself. "I mean... maybe definitely."
Evander's small smile returned. "You're interesting. Both of you. Different from other babies."
"You're different from other children," Margotte countered. "Quiet. Watchful. You see things."
"Yes." He said it simply, like it was just a fact. "Lysander talks. I watch. Works better that way."
For a while, they sat in surprisingly comfortable silence. Well, as much silence as a birthday party allowed. Evander seemed perfectly content to observe the festivities without participating, and Margotte found his presence oddly soothing after months of constant competition with Adrian.
Until Adrian leaned over and whispered, "You know what this is?"
"What what is?"
"This." He gestured between Margotte and Evander. "You found someone calm. He found someone who listens. That's..." he paused dramatically, "that's how couples start."
Margotte's face went hot. "WHAT?"
"You and him. Future couple. I see it now."
"That's stupid."
"Is it?" Adrian's grin was absolutely insufferable. "Think about it. You're smart. He's smart. You like quiet. He's quiet. You never had boyfriend before. Now you do. New life, new chance!"
"I'm one year old."
"Never too early to plan!"
"I will hit you with my horse."
"Your boyfriend's horse, you mean."
Evander, caught in the middle of this exchange, looked between them with what might have been confusion or might have been amusement. Hard to tell with him.
"I'm not..." Margotte struggled with vocabulary, her baby brain not equipped for this level of social complexity. "He's just... nice. That's all."
"So nice you smiled," Adrian singsonged. "So nice you said thank you. So nice you—"
Margotte did hit him with the horse.
Adrian laughed, dodging the second swing. "See? Violent! You need someone calm to balance you! It's perfect!"
"I need someone QUIET to escape YOU!"
"Same thing!"
"NOT SAME!"
"Children," Lady Marianne intervened, appearing beside their chair. "Are you two fighting? On your birthday?"
"He started it," Margotte said automatically.
"She hit me," Adrian countered.
"You deserved it."
"Did not!"
"Did too!"
Marianne sighed and looked at Helena, who'd returned without Lysander (he was visible in the distance, apparently leading a group of children in some kind of war game involving sticks). "They're always like this?"
"Constantly," Rosalind confirmed, arriving with cake. "But they're never happy when separated either. It's exhausting."
Evander spoke up quietly: "They like each other. Just show it strange."
Both mothers paused, looking at the small boy with surprise.
"That's very perceptive, darling," Helena said proudly.
"I watch things," Evander explained. "They fight, but good fighting. Not mean fighting. The... the fun kind."
Adrian and Margotte exchanged glances.
"It's not FUN," Margotte insisted.
"Definitely not fun," Adrian agreed.
"See?" Evander said to the adults. "They even agree about disagreeing."
The mothers laughed. The babies glowered. And Evander returned to his quiet observation, apparently satisfied with his analysis.
As the party continued, Margotte found herself relaxing slightly. Evander's presence was like a buffer between her and the overwhelming noise of the celebration. He didn't demand attention or interaction, just existed peacefully nearby.
It was... nice.
Which made Adrian's teasing even more annoying when he leaned over later and whispered: "Still think he's not your boyfriend?"
"Adrian."
"Margotte and Evander, sitting in a tree—"
"We can't even CLIMB trees yet!"
"—K-I-S-S-I-N-G—"
The horse hit him again.
Evander, watching this with his characteristic calm, simply handed Margotte his horse too.
"You need more weapons," he observed.
And despite everything (the embarrassment, the teasing, the absolute ridiculousness of the situation), Margotte laughed.
Adrian's expression flickered with something complicated. Then he shrugged, grinned, and stole both horses while Margotte wasn't looking.
The resulting chaos required three adults to resolve.
Their first birthday party would be remembered by the adults as a lovely celebration.
The babies would remember it as the day Adrian discovered a new way to torture Margotte, and Margotte discovered that not everyone communicated through competition.
Both lessons would prove important.
Though Margotte would vehemently deny the boyfriend thing for years to come.
Even if Evander's carved horse would remain one of her most treasured possessions.
But that was just because it was well-made.
Obviously.
Nothing else.
Adrian's knowing smirk suggested he didn't believe that for a second.