Allissa

Three days before the party, my daughter woke the entire east wing at dawn by announcing, at full volume, that today was a Thorin day.

“A what day?” Darren muttered into his pillow.

“You heard her.” I was already up, peeling Lyra off the foot of our bed where she had materialized like a small determined ghost. “The dragon royals arrive this morning. She’s been counting down on her fingers for over a week.”

“She only has ten fingers.”

“She borrowed two of mine.”

My ...