"Sister, I've never seen so many people before. It's so lively!" The little girl with two pigtails followed Aemeth through the streets of Bellchime Town, brimming with delight.
After the war began, the people of Silverpine Forest started migrating north in large numbers. Even though most towns were far from Northflow Town, they still dared not stay in their homes.
Some had relatives they could turn to in Tirisfal Glades, but most could only swallow their pride and ask for somewhere to stay in an unfamiliar town.
Aemeth held her little sister's hand, glad that her silly little head could not grasp their sorrow.
The little glutton could not understand what a blessing it was for homeless refugees with no savings to arrive in a strange town and find a merchants' guild willing to provide them with shelter and food.
"Why don't you go help Ian hand out food to everyone?" Aemeth wanted to send the little girl away so she could discuss further refugee supplies with the family elders.
More than half of Silverpine Forest, along with the portion of Tirisfal Glades west of Lordaeron City, had been the Agamand family's fief.
After Arthas's purge of the kingdom's old nobility, however, family fiefs had become a thing of the past.
But the House of Menethil would never admit that it had assumed actual control of those lands. Dealing with the refugees remained the Agamand family's responsibility.
After all, weren't they still the nominal rulers of this fief?
"No way! Ever since Ian heard that you're always thinking about that big brother from Kul Tiras, he's been sulking every day. He used to buy me little rice cakes." Little Rita pouted, looking terribly aggrieved.
Aemeth's face darkened. "Who's been spreading that gossip?"
"The elders and all the older boys and