Egfor and Dem had just fallen asleep when the alarm came. A wildfire had started from the celebratory fireworks the mayor had insisted the city keep. Tradition, he claimed. Now wildfires from a stray spark or two were spreading in the farmland. Some close to the Estate. Both men, exhausted, hauled themselves out of bed.

(Continued from "A Finch's Beginnings: A Man Named Bên - Part the First")

It had been just once she had left.

Just once she left the safety of her hideaway.

She had a guard with her, she stayed off road, she wore camouflaging attire. She should have been safe.

But no.

There she stood, facing the man she had run away from, hidden from, for so long...

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Living Well – Venison for the Bride

For the lovely bride who favors venison, nothing could be more satisfying for her wedding feast than a roast properly seasoned and glazed with fruit as sweet as her kiss. For my Betrothed, it should be the pear, for, like Her, its form and nature are of a distinct beauty that is unyielding to the will of the observer. *

Getting up was a difficult feat. Her head hurt, her vision blurred, and her jaw ached. She remembered quite a bit from the evening before, but none of it was a fond memory. She dropped her feet to the floor, allowing their bareness to touch the coldness of the stone floor. She shivered, but did not place them within the confines of slippers.