My Land, My Rules

Liliana had been out and about today upon secret errands (which would, of course, be blasted about the island over the radio) and traipsed into Nell's house coming directly from the last of them, a brief stop at the forge to drop off the finalized drawings of the decorations she wanted engraved her new commission and, since she was there already, a quick bit of other engraving - along with a hefty gratuity, of course, for taking care of her request so quickly. And she'd gotten to test out some of Amaya's clever locks whilst the blacksmith had taken care of her rush order, so, in all, a most productive stop. One might, if one were so inclined, label it efficient. (Those people would not be Liliana, for whom efficiency was not terribly high of her list of priorities.)

Coming in from town as she was, she was alone as breezed in, cheeks a bit red from the chill, eyes sparkling, and filled with a sense of holiday mischief. "Hello darlings," she called. "Mmm, something smells lovely."