The old kettle whistled softly on the stove, doing its best to warm up the soaked guests — adventurers who always managed to get themselves in trouble.

— Now that was a hike to remember!

— We barely outran that monstrous cloud!

— No kidding. I wonder if the gramophone still works?

The crackling fire and creaking floorboards embodied the very idea of comfort. This was the house where Needle had spent every summer since her childhood. It felt like not much had changed since then. Everything still held the presence of her beloved grandmother. She had passed away a year ago, but the portrait of her hugging her little granddaughter still filled the space with warmth and glee.

— Let’s bake a pie. We just need to check the recipe on YouTube.

— Ha! Dream on. Forget about the internet — we’re doing this from memory!

After midnight, the baking began: they dusted their cheeks with flour, stuck bits of parchment to their foreheads, and told ghost stories. At last, they had their chance to be a true duke and duchess — far from the noise of everyday life.