It wasn’t until the third day that things got tricky. Chaos was ruling with a pretty soft hand this time around, largely amusing himself by commanding various civic facilities be replaced with candy. Things were a bit sticky, but otherwise uneventful.
The evening on the third day, Order had fallen asleep at precisely 9:30, as was her wont. I had left a single candle burning and gently shut her door. I breathed a sigh of relief and went to the kitchen to obtain my usual brandy.
Then the fireworks started.
Let me tell you, we put a lot of work into shutting out light and sound from Order’s bedroom. There wasn’t a more secure room to be found in the city. Without magic, there’s only so much one can accomplish. And you know Order’s opinion on magic.
I spun on my heels and walked back to the bedroom, gently creaking open the door and slipping in between explosions. I needn’t have bothered. Order was bolt upright, her hair mussed, her nightgown twisted up in her petite hands. She glared at me as I came in as if this was all my doing.
“All I ask is to be able to sleep by a regular schedule!” she shrieked. “Is that so much to ask? My brother is doing this on purpose, I know it! As if the cloying scent of sugar mucking up the place wasn’t bad enough.” She picked up one of her heavy pillows and threw it against the wall, hard. Of course, she’d chosen the location so that it wouldn’t knock down any of the carefully organized shelves.
It wouldn’t surprise me if that section of wall was labeled in her head as the designated pillow-throwing area.