Angie passed Gadget on his way to breakfast.  “Oi, Gadget, didja finish tha’ mod’fied crossbow ya were talkin’ ‘bout?  If’n ya did, jus’ lemme know, I’m lookin’ for’ard t’ checkin’ i’ ou’!”  The girl didn’t linger over the greeting, only pausing for a brief exchange before continuing back towards Olyvar’s section of the camp with the other kids that were helping fetch breakfast for them.

Delshad didn’t frown too long at the young smith, instead shaking his head.  “I will never figure out where you put it, on that scrawny frame of yours, Gadget.  But try to remember to wipe your hands first, next time.  Charcoal is not very tasty, yes?”  The cook too moved off after only a moment, going to bid Gwen a good morning and hand her the compostable refuse.  “I know you will be planting soon.  Perhaps you and I, or some of the others who know mint from ivy, can go out to find plants for your garden.  I have some seeds from last year, but not many.  Let me know what works.”  His wide grin gleamed white in his dark face as he patted her shoulder.  Gwen might not have many friends in camp, nor much enthusiasm for anything he could determine, but that was no reason to be unkind to her.

The next to stumble in was a very bedraggled Summer.  No sooner had he guided the young woman to a seat and set a mug of something hot and invigorating in her hands than his attention was demanded by a tug on his apron.  “Ah, good morning!”  Delshad bent down to scoop Sunny up, lifting her high into the air before settling her on one hip for a hug.  “How’s my favorite little sunbeam, hm?  Have you eaten yet?  Yes, yes, you can help with the dishes, if you like.  But not until /after/ you’ve had something to eat -- you’re a big girl, but you need to eat well to make sure you keep growing big and strong, yes indeed!”  He started to turn to head back into the main area of the makeshift kitchen, but his finely tuned awareness of all that happened in his little kingdom focused first on a slightly ragged head of black hair.  “Lucas.”  Dark eyes took in the basket on the smaller man’s arm, but the cook made no comment about what was almost certainly a violation of the rules.  “When you’re done seeing to the waif, the dishes will be waiting.”  Was that a glint of amusement?  He’d turned away too quickly to be sure.  “Come, Sunny, let’s get you something to eat!’

The little girl under the table hadn’t been expecting to encounter Prince so early, but she wasn’t upset when he approached her.  Perhaps her taste in people was a bit odd, but Bits avoided most of the thieves with a handful of exceptions, and the disgraced noble was one of them.  She’d been creeping from table to table, trying to get close enough to reach the kitchen without having to deal with too many of the others.  It’d been slow going, though at last most of the early risers seemed to have left.  A small hand grabbed the basket when it was set down, accompanied by a glimpse of the intensely blue eyes that had earned her a special nickname from the man.  Perhaps a minute later, a mussed head emerged from beneath the table, followed by the rest of the spindly child.  She climbed up onto the bench next to Prince, deciding that if he was there then she would eat while sitting properly at the table.  The ragged kitten doll she was never without was set carefully where it could watch her eat, and while Bits didn’t sit right next to the man, she was close enough that it counted as sitting with.  A shy half-smile greeted him before the girl let her hair hide her face again.

~~~~~~

Paige had returned to the tent while Miry put away her flute, to take care of a few last-minute things.  When the flap opened she turned, expecting her young mistress.  Not Winter -- and with no shirt!  He had a sheen of sweat and possibly river water on his muscles, and in one spot it was dripping down toward -- no, no!  Paige forced her face into some semblance of composure, though she was unable to hide the blush that spread across her cheeks.  Let him think that it was caused by the unseemly circumstances, nothing more.  And then she flushed darker in embarrassment, ducking her head.  “Ah, actually...I may have taken that tunic...”  She gestured awkwardly to where her sewing kit lay, the missing tunic visible in a neatly folded pile beneath it.  “I saw there was a rip in it, yesterday...I thought you would just wear a different one, not try to tear the camp apart looking for it!”  The sharp side of her tongue was Paige’s best defense against awkwardness, but it was clear she was quite flustered.