Berries were ruthlessly plucked from their bushes by a pair of small hands. They worked in the waning sunlight of July behind thickets where no one would spot them. “Cassy! The coast’s clear!” the old Varon called out from his hut. His vibrant voice reached the girl, soon followed by the smell of grilled fish that permeated the air.

Cassandra rose from her knees and peeked over the brambles, her face tinged with dirt and a carefree expression. “Got it!” she shouted back.

Alis sat near the open flames, belly taut and round, features distorted by guilt. “Don’t talk so loud,” she hushed at them both, feeling slightly discomforted, “The Marshal might hear you… He won’t be happy seeing you down here, Cassandra. Frankly, it’s a miracle he hasn’t caught you yet.”

“He’s being lenient is what he is,” the old Varon confessed. Then he dished out his catch for the day and continued to say, “His afraid of losing my grace should I find his behavior inappropriate. Foolish man. Hah! He should think more of himself than this old bear and suck up to his real masters!”

"... That’s where you’re wrong. I can assure you that I’m man enough to choose whom I serve," a familiar voice suddenly corrected him out of nowhere. The old Varon sheepishly turned his back to face the Marshal. The stern fella stood with crossed arms and a critical mask on his face. He came with Peres in tow, who seemed just as cranky. Behind them followed their two genosaurs as accessories to the scene.

The little brat lamented, "I still don’t get why Alis gets to live here? I've asked a billion times only to receive a harsh no in return. And what in the Twinheaded's name are you doing down here Cassandra!?"

In response, Cassandra settled her basket brimming with edibles and shrugged, “This is our family’s garden. I came to pick some stuff. That’s it. What about you? What are you doing down here, Peres?”

Her brother trod over and janked at the basket’s handle, “You know that you’re not allowed to be anywhere near Alis! Yet here you are, prancing around as if you belong here.”

The old Varon was about to interrupt, but Cassandra settled her own case, by saying, “Excuse me, but did our mother ever mention that we had to keep a certain distance apart to make things acceptable? I’m plenty of meters away from Alis, so what’s your problem?”

“That’s true, my boy. Cassy’s not here to mingle with Alis. She’s here to harvest, like any other good maiden in June,” the old Varon added, totally unfazed by his own bias.

“It’s July, my lord,” the Marshal corrected.

“Hah!? July-boly does it really matter? I think not. Daniel! You have far more important matters to attend to good Sir, such as devouring this fish here!” the old man haphazardly demanded in a playful tune. The Marshal’s stiff mouth loosened at both ends, and without further ado, he sat down to share in the meal his master had prepared, content to be in said person’s company.

Peres made a few grouchy noises before he found a seat too. He didn’t need an invitation to feel entitled to their feast. Not at all.

“P-... Peres, can you hand me the water bucket?” the old Varon asked. His hesitation made the others pause and observe. Peres didn’t bother to move the heavy bucket, he simply took his grandfather’s mug and did the man a favor by filling it up to the edge.

The water exchanged hands and a subtle splash was heard. It didn’t come from the mug, though.

Alis flushed as one would when wetting themselves in public. Once collected, she muttered to the others in true Hollywood style, "... I think my water just broke…"

Her announcement might as well have been about an ambush by the corrupted, seeing as how the Marshal and the other men reacted with terror.

One by one, they fled the scene, leaving only Cassandra and Alis behind to deal with the aftermath. “What’s going on!? Why are they suddenly fleeing in such a rush? Even grandpa’s aiming for the archway as if his butt was on fire!” Cassandra noted. The Marshall even went to aid the sucker by locking arms with him as they ran.

Alis started laughing hysterically despite the incoming cramps. Somehow the scene before them touched her tremendously. Enough for her to even shed a few tears and say, “Ahahaha! They’re so adorable! Hahaha!”

Cassandra rose from her seat, utterly confused. “Adorable!?” she repeated in an uproar.

“Oh dear! I didn’t know they cared that much, haha… Oh, what to do. Now I don’t feel so sad anymore.”

“I don’t get it, Alis!? What did they do?” Cassandra kept nagging with a mind swimming in questions and stress. She really couldn’t see any merit in the menfolk running away like that.

“Oh, they’re afraid of spoiling the baby’s birth, you see. They know that Triata abhors the energy of Mahl, god of metia and male blessings. Especially during childbirths as it is one of her most secret and pure of rituals… Only the father may be present, and even then, he has to pray and garner her favor before he attends. Unwelcome men can only be seen as undercover fathers or insensitive carriers of misfortune...”

Cassandra took a while to compute, “So… Instead of staying and ruining the childbirth, they all chose to run away?”

Alis nodded, “Exactly! They ran, even though my child is considered nothing but a burden. They could have stayed and cursed it! But instead… They ran and gave their blessings. I’m so happy!”

Alis’ big smile quickly turned contagious. Cassandra could feel it infecting her as they both glanced after the deserters. They watched with pleasure as the smells of damp trees, and syrupy blossoms swept the area clean from smoke and the nasal taste of dinner. The sun was clearly digging its way down to visit the dead now. What a shame, Cassandra thought… It was getting late.

“Now… My precious friend,” Alis said with calm. “I need your help… While the others seek out a midwife, I’ll need you to gather some towels and make my bed. I’m afraid the cramps will be keeping me too busy to accomplish this all by myself.”

“No problem! Leave it to me!” Cassandra almost shouted into Alis’ ear due to all the excitement she felt buzzing around in her body. A new chapter in their lives was about to begin, and it could either turn out to be as dreadful as a waking nightmare or as sweet as a summer’s dream. Nothing could be more exciting than this!

****

“Is the clay ready yet? She needs Triata’s blessing now or I’m afraid the poor girl won’t make it! Hurry, hurry!” the midwife implored. It was the same woman, who had been responsible for Cassandra’s safe delivery: Prinstine. She had been called on by the men that fled.

Cassandra observed as Prinstine’s helper quickened their crushing of herbs into a mix of clay. The whole blend was very liquidy, like paint, and in it swam around the pieces of herbs meant to relieve Alis of her pain. The reddish clay was delivered one final smack before it got handed over to Prinstine. The stressed midwife took it without so much as a thanks, and with it she made hurried strokes across Alis’ paling skin. It went on rather smoothly as Alis was already covered in a thin coat of sweat from her strenuous labor.

With all the screaming and panicking that ensued, staying behind in the hut was quite unpleasant, nevertheless, Cassandra had to remain and stay strong as they were in need of both her hands and feet.

During her stay Cassandra had to run out and fetch the water several times until the baby finally popped. When it did, Prinstine took the bloody pulp over to a basin to wash it clean. As was customary. Alis looked on with desperation and a dry mouth. She couldn’t help but notice how Prinstine's former pride turned cold as she scrubbed the cub. Every move of her hand looked rough, every breath she took sounded more raspy and deep than the last. It made Alis regret ever having birthed the child into this world in the first place as it was simply too dangerous! Who knew where death lurked? It was like he was everywhere. And currently caressing the hands holding her baby with his looooong lanky fingers.

The seasoned midwife had truthfully been told to let death win if the baby should be born too feeble. Alas, this one couldn’t have turned out more healthy. It seemed luck was on its side for once, and not the Drays’.

After a thorough wash, Prinstine could undoubtedly proclaim, “It’s a boy!” to his mother. The baby was promptly swaddled, then handed over into his mother’s awkward embrace.

Alis clamped onto the boy like a startled oyster and stared at him. She feasted her eyes on the little pearl she had been carrying inside of her for so long. She found him rather odd to look at. Wrinkly and honey-skinned. His complexion was not as deep as his father’s, but the warmth was definitely there. To her dismay he resembled his father quite a lot…

Alis gulped at the resemblance. Only after the short inspection, did she care to look up and gander at the others. To her surprise, Cassandra stood right by her side, vigilant and silent. Alis appreciated her patience and asked, “... What do you think?”

Cassandra’s eyes expanded in puzzlement, “What do I think? I’m no expert on newborns, but I think he looks just a-okay! You did a good job there, Alis! You fought so long and hard... I’m proud of you!”

Alis’ smile grew wider. She had noticed how ill and sometimes grotesque Cassandra’s face had turned during the delivery. She’d fully expected Cassandra to lament a bit after the fact, but her friend did no such thing… “You weren’t frightened? Not one bit?” Alis kept proding, her voice hoarse and tired.

Cassandra flashed an honest expression and said, “Maybe… Just a bit? I was afraid that we’d somehow lose you… But, things turned out fine in the end. That’s all that matters.”

Cassandra stood in a daze after finishing her sentence. Relief washed over her like lukewarm rain. How nice, she thought… Until a hand suddenly went and janked her awake, “Little Dray! You can go fetch the old Varon now. My assistant and I will have to stay behind for the mother’s sake. Now, hurry along, girl,” Prinstine ordered of her. The little lady nodded. She couldn’t help but notice how ballsy the midwife had grown since the last time they met, about 3 years ago. Either that or she’d just held herself back due to her parents presence.

As commanded, Cassandra fetched the old fellow to have a looksie now that the coast was clear. The old Varon left the manor immediately at her word. He trod through the early morning mist and found himself welcomed by the wails of a stranger. The familiar, yet alien sound, made the old man giggle to himself. Life was a wonderful thing... A tricky thing.

Cassandra had somehow imagined that all would be well, but it was not. Not in the piercing eyes of her mother, who blocked the entrance to the manor. The Lady had a hard time composing herself. Her wrinkles were deeply carved by anger and her red hair looked like it frothed due to the high humidity in the air. It was all frizzy and bent on getting bigger and more imposing by the minute. “I see now that Alis isn’t the problem here, but you, my dear,” her mother said solemnly. “Did you truly think that the rules didn’t apply to you, but only Alis? Hmph! You’re too naive, Cassandra!... And grounded!… Grounded and forbidden entry to our garden for all eternity! And if I find out that you've been visiting there again, there’ll be a most dreadful punishment waiting for you. Not Alis, but you! I haven’t the slightest guilt in hurting my own flesh and blood as much as it pains me!... Now go up to your bed! It’s late and already way past your bedtime! It’s almost morning, for goodness’ sake! Up! Up with you!”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Cassandra didn’t retort. Instead she felt her courage shatter like a piece of fragile glass being confronted like this by her greatest ‘nemesis’. The way Lady Dray stared at her made room for no doubt. She really would beat her sorry ass should she repeatedly disobey her. Cassandra wasn’t too keen on that. Therefore, she thought it best to wait her mother’s anger out before attempting another outing. Perhaps then, her parents' reaction would be less severe.

Unfortunately, being away from Alis wasn’t that easy of a feat. Cassandra had been tempered to know her presence. To feel safe in it. Now, she felt all alone. Cut off from the world she cared about. That little universe she had been a part of ever since she got here. Alas, Cassandra had to abide by the rules sometimes if she didn’t want her parents' constant vigilance. And this required patience. Thankfully, she didn’t get locked up with nothing to do in all that spare time. Her parents had been kind enough to ensure her growth, and boredom fix, in the form of an embroidery kit for beginners. Cassandra wanted to toss it at first, but she came to use it diligently everyday. The kit worked like magic for her. And she found that with every little poke of the needle her mind became clearer and clearer. Making way for a truth that had always been there...

While she was grounded, her mother would sometimes wander past and take a peek through the keyhole. It was like a drug to her, cause it sure did look like her daughter was getting well-acquainted with the needle and thread in there, young as she was. And sure she did! She was in fact getting so well-acquainted with the pair that her letters had now turned readable.

Cassandra’s face beamed with satisfaction when she held up her first passable stitched message. It wasn’t easy working with the deftness of a 3-year-olds fingers, but despite the setbacks, her result came out useful. Cassandra could now fabricate messages to maintain contact with Alis. The matter of having access to precious paper and ink was no longer of any consequence.

The second her grounding let up, Cassandra rushed down to deliver her message. Not directly to the garden of course, but down to the kitchen where the supplies meant for her grandfather lingered. She hastily opened up one of the bags, containing freshly picked carrots, to sew her ‘handkerchief’-message on its insides. It was unlikely that she would receive a reply back, but she at least wanted Alis to understand why she couldn’t be there, during a time of need.

Within a week the message was found and read by Alis. The young mother mulled over the words that read:

Alis. I can’t visit.

Mother is furious. I’ll wait.

Because you're my family.

P.S Janet helped write this. Don’t worry!

Cassandra.

Alis shook her head helplessly at Cassandra’s effort. Of course, Alis knew why the kid couldn’t visit. She shouldn’t have done so to begin with, yet she did. And the fact that her sister helped spell this mess? It did make sense for Cassandra to seek help, since Alis thought of her as illiterate, but to think that the person she ended up seeking help from would be her sister? It seemed rather dubious.

Alis could also understand from the skewed letters that the message had to be kept short. Cassandra was probably having a hard time stitching every word with her inexperience. The child must have spared no expense with the length of her sentences.

“What’s that you got there, Alis?” the old Varon asked.

Alis adjusted the way her son slept on her lap and said, “I found it hidden in our monthly supplies… It’s from Cassandra.”

“Really!?” The old Varon was handed the message and he studied its crooked letters closely. He was stunned for a second, then went rummaging through his storage unit. “Here, here, Alis! Quickly! Write her a message back! Tell her that I’ve scolded Peres and she doesn’t need to fear getting tattled on another time! She should definitely come visit again! Before she grows too big and bored of this grandpa, AH!”

Alis sat flabbergasted. The pen and musty paper were quickly shoved in her face by the old Varon, whose eyes sparkled like diamonds, and whose brows pressed upwards in pure beg-mode. He really wanted her to write that letter. Alis sank her head, thinking that this old man had a funny way of recollecting things.

She’d helped the kind senior set up some rat-traps, which he then set off shortly after, getting himself a bruising because he’d already forgotten all about them. And he’d even forgotten a few times that she’d already given birth, earning himself a shock each time he saw her flat belly and baby in arms. However, when it came to his grandchildren, Peres and Cassandra, he seldom was confused, but instead quick to understand and remember the context of their affairs… It was really just too 'funny'…

****

Being away from Alis wasn’t all bad. Without her supervision Cassandra could now take the opportunity to flip through her father’s repertoire, consisting solely of books not meant for children. She was going through a booklet called: Caveling favors and taboos, when she heard the doorhandle click open to her father’s study. Her little head peeked up from the Varon's desk to see who disturbed her peace. She was unpleasantly surprised to see the Marshal step inside. "Father's not here," Cassandra kindly informed the intruder, "He's gone out. On a trip to the mines, he said."

The Marshal snorted, "I know." He browsed the dark teal bookshelves that protruded from the walls, the white flowing curtains, canary shaded pillows, ashtray and rug, then closed the door thoroughly. Cassandra looked with unease at the Marshal. What was his deal anyway?

Whilst emanating a threatening force, the man marched forward until he was right in front of the child. Then, as if it was a weapon he drew, a piece of parchment flew up from his pocket. It was a letter. The Marshal dangled it before Cassandra's snout and said cooly, "For you."

Cassandra kicked her books further beneath the desk, way out of sight, before she carefully began twisting the paper out of the man's iron grip. She had to keep at it for a full minute before the paper finally gave way and escaped his hand. But this kind of behavior was to be expected from him as being socially inept was his forte.

With the letter now in her hands, Cassandra jittered with anticipation. She ripped the top, pinched out the contents, And!-… The Marshal decided to intervene yet again! He clamped his fingers on the letter’s edge and muttered, "Wait…" The letter shifted hands. "Since you cannot read the contents, I'll read them out loud for you,” he explained.

Cassandra let out a silent defeated huff. Thinking: It's probably for the best… But why didn’t you say so from the beginning!? You dunce! You’re making this so awkward! ARGH!

The Marshal coughed thrice, then read the contents aloud as monotonous as possible:

Dear Cassandra,

Your stitched letter has been well received. Currently, the baby and I are getting accustomed to each other and our new wonderful life together. Your grandfather has been very kind to us. With that being said, I still miss having you around. We have been together for a long time. But the time has come to bid each other farewell. You’re a young lady now, Cassandra, and very capable. Soon you’ll be brought over to the Irondanes and taught things that’ll make you forget all about me in due time. I can’t wait to see how far you’ll go. Please make us proud.

P.S. Even if the old Varon wants you to come visit immediately, it must wait if necessary. Till the Lady can be avoided. We don't want her to cause any more harm in the name of family.

May hearty oxens be jealous of your health and starlight of old bring you luck.

From your humble friend, Alis.

And Grandpa!

Finished with his reading, the Marshal added, “My duties aside, I’ve promised your noble grandfather to pass on any messages you’d like to send. Contrary, I may bring you more letters in the future from the garden... If you understand this, please nod.” Wow...

Cassandra stared at the letter in his hand, wanting it for herself, but she didn’t dare voice out this opinion. She just continued to stare at it whilst foolishly bobbing her head. An action that the Marshal took as her nod of agreement.

He was about to exit the Varon’s study, but stopped to hold up Alis’ letter and say, “Wipe that look off your face, kid. This piece of incriminating evidence cannot be kept. It is already as good as destroyed… Oh… And remember to be wary of your siblings. Especially of Peres. He’d easily use this to remove you from the old Varon’s side, despite the master’s warnings not to tattle on you… Take it as a suggestion.”

Cassandra watched the doorhandle lose all motion. Her mind, preoccupied by thoughts of Peres being kicked in the loin by her new sharp-nosed shoes.

Not long after the Marshal’s departure, Cassandra grinned at the thought that the otherwise cold and stern man had turned into their carrier pigeon, by none other than the old Varon himself. She retrieved the booklet she had begun to read, sat down, and continued to pad out the time till she could meet her fondest family members once more.

****

Alis and Cassandra’s back and forth communication went on for 6 months. They’d kept their relationship at a distance, but now it was the beginning of January and time for the little junior to be granted his name. An event Cassandra simply couldn’t resist participating in.

Since Alis had been there to hold her naming ceremony, Cassandra would like to return the favor. Especially with how small and desolate the child’s ceremony was going to be. If Cassandra didn’t attend, there’d only be the old Varon and Alis to celebrate the occasion… A sight too sad to behold! She wouldn’t allow for such a tragedy to take place! But to attend, she had to get there, and by secret means.

Nervous, she crept out of her room, down towards the forbidden area. As she sneaked past the kitchen, she heard the voices of Janet and the cook. They were talking merrily as fire crackled in the background. Sometimes their voices would screech and react to a pan clattering to the floor or the sound of eggshells getting smashed. Cassandra could conjecture from these signs that the duo was probably having fun baking.

Normally, she wouldn’t think much of their antics, but this time her lips curved with delight. She was pleased. Pleased that her sister would be distracted for at least a few more hours. Enough for her to go unnoticed like the wind.

With Janet out of the picture, Cassandra slinked onwards, over to the main door. She carefully. Very carefully! Pushed it open. She was expecting to bathe in the beauty of nature’s light, but instead, her eyes were immediately blinded by her mother and father’s romantic display. The atmosphere surrounding them was so perfect and tranquil that she almost believed them to be in a photoshoot located somewhere on the Healing Mountains!

Beautiful flakes of snow twirled around the pair, clad in vibrant winter attires. One in a fruity pink suit, the other in a strong mint green cloak. They both rode on genosaurback about to leave the manor to go god knows where! Cassandra frowned at them as bitter wind blasted her face through the door-gap. She thought: This couple really is too shameful! How dare they leave their kids like this? Without a word nor a care in the world!? Haven't they noticed that all of their children have technically found themselves substitute parents due to their own neglect!? Hrmph! The gall of them! I hope they never get a fourth kid! If so, the poor Marshal better look out or he’ll be the next who’ll be forced to adopt!

Oblivious to their daughter’s seething stare, the two sweethearts tightened their reins and left the driveway as soon as the maingate opened. The servant responsible for said gate, closed it, then ran towards the stables to finish his tasks. Leaving the grounds empty and completely covered in virgin snow.

Since the weather was so cold, Cassandra napped a good fur coat before she left the manor. And then another one. Just in case her friends would be in need.

Running beneath the arches, she kept a vigilant eye out for any servants, knowing that they would tattle should they be given the chance. As for Peres? The biggest snitch in the world? Well, fortunately for the day he wouldn’t be a liability for the old Varon had made sure to send him on a long and arduous quest to fetch some black hellebore. One, Peres certainly wouldn’t return from before nightfall.

When Cassandra finally arrived, she noticed how the fish infested lake had been glossed over by ice, except for a hole at its center. And how the hut’s crumbling roof was bursting with smoke. Despite the cold, her friends must be thriving. Or so it seemed.

Cassandra entered the small hut, expecting a hearty welcome like the one promised to her in their letters, but… Upon looking at their faces, Cassandra understood how true emotions can be so easily left out in scribbles. And that, what stains the paper can be the reality the writer wishes to portray, and not necessarily the one they inhabit. Having thought this, Cassandra began to reevaluate the letters she had received thus far. All of which had been written in Alis’ agile hand.

She’d written that they ate plenty of fish every day with fingers thin as a pen.

She’d written about how beautiful the frost would glint in the mornings, clothed in nothing but a cotton dress and flimsy chemise.

And at last, she’d written about how blessed she felt, living like this… Now how should Cassandra interpret this? Did the young mother truly feel blessed? Or cursed?

Lingering at the doorstep, Cassandra greeted her friends.“Hi, grandpa… Alis… I made it. Mother and father are out riding, Peres is gone, Janet is being kept busy by the cook, and the servants are scattered. So I don’t think we’ll get caught today no matter how rowdy this party gets, hehe… So… How have you guys been?”

They all looked awkwardly at each other, at a standstill. Then something happened. Moved by his own horrifying reflection, the old Varon mustered up his heart to shatter the silence and attack his grandchild with a great bearhug! How could he not? He didn’t want the girl to feel sorry for him. To look at him all sapped and dry.

Screaming with joy, Cassandra flew up and down in his arms. He made her fly in a circle around his body, then slump on his chest in a tight embrace. Proud of having accomplished his goal, the old Varon bellowed, “Ah! How you’ve grown, Cassy. 6 months and you talk and walk like a kid I don’t know, but thank the Divines, you’re still as cute as ever! And what’s that you got there? A present? Or a bloody trophy for me to hang on the walls? You know how cool grandpa is! I’ll allow it, come maggots and all!”

“What? This old coat? Haha, no! I snatched it on my way out. It’s perfectly fine, but mother still ditched it for being too out of fashion. I thought that maybe one of you would like to borrow it?” Cassandra explained with a nod in Alis’ direction.

Her grandpa effortlessly handed it over to Alis. Their hands exchanged the heat soaking fur and Alis croaked out a, “... Thank you.” Having said hi, they all went to sit down close to the stone chimney’s blaise. It stood against the red dirt wall, surrounded by three wooden stumps. Each stump was thick and covered by a circle of brown sheep skin. Only in the chimney’s warmth did Alis dare to unwrap her son, to show him off to Cassandra. The little one was sleeping soundly.

“Isn’t he precious? My Juel…” Alis whispered. Her honest and loving gaze made Cassandra less worried. She hunched slightly forward and muttered, “His name sure does sound like ‘jewel.’ You know. Like the precious gemstones people wear around their necks. Is that on purpose?”

“It is... Because his my little jewel. My little jewel made out of flesh.”

The old Varon pinched his nasal bridge in defeat and sighed heavily.

“That sounds disturbing,” Cassandra blurted out. It’s not like she didn’t appreciate the name but the connotations were undoubtedly creepy. She thought long and hard about the name, but couldn’t recollect having stumbled upon it in the almighty book written by Maya! Which could only mean that this child was going to be as plain as the rest of them. Just another extra. Another nobody to fill up the crowd.

The teen chuckled at her comment, “What brutal honesty. You really don’t know when to keep your mouth shut, do you, Cassandra? But whatever. I still love you, you little snapper! Now... Did you remember to bring that piece of golden thread with you? The one I told you about?”

“Of course I did! It’s right here, see?” Cassandra said with one hand outstretched. On it she presented her contribution to the ceremony.

“Wonderful. Now, I can grant my son a proper naming ceremony too... To think this is the second time I’ll have to hold an unofficial one. Triata and Mahl must truly despise me… But, at least, this time I’m not entirely alone. Thanks for joining in, Cassandra. You being here means a lot to us. You too, Nicolas. Thank you.”

The old Varon blinked in acknowledgment before handing over a small, dull-looking metia crystal. He’d kept it in memory of the day his son took over the family business. He’d been so proud of his boy back then. And he still was. But sometimes he longed for the days his son was but his son. And not all those other things that came with climbing the ladder of prestige...

The golden object got to rest in Alis’ lap as she stitched the baby’s name onto his shift. It shouldn’t take as long to make as Cassandra’s, since Juel’s name was much shorter. But for every rotation she made with the moldy fabric, she unconsciously paused and gulped down a lump. Making the progress far longer than it needed to be. It was hard to describe the feeling that fizzled and bubbled through her bloodstream. Did she feel sad? Ashamed? Anxious?... Excited?

Alis knotted the string, then snipped it in two. Now that she was done with the preparations the others stood waiting for her to sing the first verse of the song. It didn’t come easy, but come it did. Dragged out and a lot more gloomy than Cassandra remembered it.

Divines shall see and praise this plum.

The spitting image of… of its mum...

Oh-ho my guests… please… *Sniff* please…

The word got caught in her throat as she started whimpering to herself in an attempt to control the madness, but the madness couldn’t be contained for long. Soon she lamented aloud, “I love Juel, I really do! But why couldn’t he have been born to someone else!?”