Astra sat cross-legged on the floor, her arms resting on her knees as she watched the four boys who were currently painting the walls. The sight before her was almost comical. Rowan was directing everyone like a self-appointed foreman, Emrys had somehow managed to get more paint on himself than the wall, Silas was painting while making sure every stroke was done with precision, and Ziyan... well, Ziyan kept shooting glances her way when he thought she wasn't looking.
A quiet sigh escaped her lips, wondering how things had come to this point. She was having such a good time doing it all alone by herself. Still, she knew there was no point in complaining. She had learned it fast enough that her opinions did not matter, especially in front of Rowan who was adamant about not letting his 'sister' do any manual work.
Astra had heard about overprotective brothers, read about them in novels, and seen them in dramas, but experiencing it firsthand was something else entirely. If Rowan had his way, she suspected he'd wrap her in bubble wrap and hire someone to spoon-feed her so she did not have to move her hands.
To their credit, the boys had finished painting the entire room in just over an hour which would have actually taken her the whole day.
"Alright, done!" Emrys announced suddenly, stepping back to admire his work. The wall he'd been painting was... uneven, to say the least. Astra didn't have the heart to point it out.
"Finally," Rowan said, dropping his roller onto the tray with a sigh of relief. He sprawled on the floor next to Astra, stretching his long legs out in front of him. "See? That wasn't so bad."
Astra glanced at him, unimpressed. "I could've done it myself."
"Sure you could've," Rowan responded as he stretched out, his arms behind his head. "But why should you when you've got a team of capable idiots at your disposal?"
"That's debatable," Silas muttered from across the room.
Astra's lips twitched in what could almost be called a smile, but she said nothing. She cast her gaze around the room, taking in the finished walls.
"Alright, Silver," Ziyan's voice interrupted her thoughts. "You gonna admit we did a good job or what?"
"Silver?" Rowan sat up abruptly, "Did you just call her Silver? Who gave you the right? Huh? And Silver? Really? What's next? You gonna start calling her something like Starlight or Moonbeam?"
"Relax, Rowan. It's just a nickname. She doesn't seem to mind. Right, Silver?" Ziyan cast a sly glance at Astra.
Astra massaged her forehead, already feeling the headache that was coming her way.
*****
Astra took another bite of pizza, observing the two boys sitting across from her at the table. Their faces were decorated with fresh bruises, though neither seemed particularly bothered by them. Beside them, Emrys and Silas continued eating as if their friends sporting matching black eyes was perfectly normal.
That was when the maid told her that a delivery truck had arrived with her belongings and needed her signature to unload the things. Astra went outside with the boys following behind her.
The sight of the massive truck parked in the driveway drew a low whistle from Emrys. "Damn, did you move the whole house here or what?"
"Something like that," she responded, taking the clipboard from the delivery man and signing it.
Rowan called a few estate workers to assist with the unloading. The estate gates were opened and one by one, a stream of items began flowing in. There were multiple boxes of various sizes, canvases either new or used that were placed in bags, and multiple easels.
"So you're an artist," Ziyan observed, materializing beside her.
"It's just a hobby," Astra responded.
The flow of art supplies seemed endless, but once they were all unloaded, four workers disappeared behind the truck and after a couple of minutes, they appeared with a white grand piano.
"Careful with that," Astra called out, a rare note of concern coloring her voice as one of the workers stumbled slightly.
Emrys, who had been making running commentary about her art supplies, suddenly fell silent. His jaw dropped as the piano drew closer, revealing keys that seemed to be made of black opal and white moonstones.
"Is that..." his voice trembled.
"Moonlit Serenade..." he choked out, eyes fixed on the golden logo. "That's the real Moonlit Serenade."
"Is it expensive or something?" Rowan asked, glancing between the piano and Emrys's awestruck face.
Emrys turned to him with an expression of absolute horror, "Expensive? EXPENSIVE? Rowan, this isn't just expensive. It's one of a kind!" Without another word, he darted after the workers, hovering around them like an anxious mother hen to make sure no damage was done to the piano.
"Allow me to help you understand," Silas cleared his throat, assuming what Astra had mentally dubbed his 'professor mode.' "The Moonlit Serenade was created by master craftsman Viktor Leonhardt as his final masterpiece. He spent three years selecting each moonstone and opal, another two years crafting the body, and a final year designing the internal mechanisms to accommodate the weight of the gemstones without compromising sound quality. Rumors say that playing it under moonlight creates tones that can't be replicated by any other instrument."
"A few years ago, it appeared at auction. Someone bought it for four million, but the buyer remained anonymous. Nobody's seen it since then... until now." His eyes fixed on Astra with newfound interest.
Rowan's face split into a satisfied grin. "Well, of course my sister deserves nothing but the best the world has to offer."
"Four million," Ziyan mused. "That's quite a hobby you've got there, Silver."
Astra ignored him and walked inside, watching as Emrys continued to fuss over the piano that the workers were maneuvering toward the grand staircase.
"No, no, NO! You can't grip it there!"
"If you've scratched it, I swear I'll make you pay for it with your grandchildren's inheritance!"
"Watch the railing! No, your other left! Do you even know what left is? How did you get hired?"
"I think we've lost him," Silas muttered, watching as Emrys continued his frantic hovering around the workers.
Rowan leaned against the banister. "Should we prepare a funeral for the first person who breathes on it wrong?"
Astra observed Emrys for a moment longer and then with a slight shrug, she turned away from the scene, heading back to finish her abandoned pizza. At least now, she did not have to worry about her piano getting damaged.
The others followed behind her. Emrys's voice could still be heard in the distance.
"I suppose this means we'll be hearing a lot more of Emrys around here," Rowan mused as they settled back at the table.
"Bold of you to assume I'm letting any of you near it," Astra replied flatly, though internally she was already preparing herself for their inevitable visits.
"Aw, come on, Silver," Ziyan responded, propping his chin on his hand. "You wouldn't deny a music lover his dream, would you?"
Before Astra could respond, Emrys appeared before her out of nowhere, his eyes shining with an almost manic gleam. "Can I... can I play it? Just once? I promise I'll wash my hands seven times first. And wear gloves. And maybe a hazmat suit."
"No,"