"Happy birthday, baby brother!"
Bran blinked in confusion as Lyra popped a cracker right into his face. Bits of confetti and strings of bright paper streamers drifted onto him, draping into his hair and onto the shoulders of his blazer. In front of him, Lyra was grinning at him from across the table, wholly unrepentant. Mischief crinkled at the corners of her eyes.
Clocking his lack of reaction, however, she laughed. "Okay, I guess we're cousins, technically. But let's not sweat the details, right? I've always wanted a little brother."