Making his way into the covered patio, Richard switched footwear before heading to the greenhouse. Gently opening the door, he was met with a warm current of humid, fragrant air. Rows of neatly planted herbs, flowers, and grasses filled rectangular holdings in the ground, some nestled in red soil and others in black.

Frowning at the leaking watering contraption he had commissioned the previous month, he muttered, "The damned thing is leaking again, no wonder it’s a bathhouse in here." Hastily addressing the issue with a rag, he managed to stem the leak, though the pendulum to time the watering was no longer swinging.

"I'll have to get him to fix it," he mused, gathering a handful of white-petaled flowers with yellow centres and a stem of an herb with deep green leaves. "Time to head out, I suppose," he said aloud, stepping back into the bungalow.

Inside, he was greeted by his mother, who held a spoon in her hand, swiftly and elegantly hiding it behind her back as if he hadn't noticed. “You've been out in the yard all day again? I told you we could get some labourers to do it,” his mother said, a hint of annoyance in her voice at his obsession.

“And you've been munching on the pudding Dad clearly left for lunch? I remember him telling you not to eat it,” he bantered back, a smug glint in his eye. "Enough about that," she declared with a slight smile. "Mrs. Wells is going to be coming over and bringing Cecilia along."

"Oh, what a shame," he replied, feigning disappointment. "I'm afraid I'll be in the bazaar. How very unfortunate." Despite his words, a playful glint danced in his eyes.

Before his mother could continue, he dashed across the corridor, grabbing a satchel and a rag, along with a brass water canteen. He flew out the door, his mother sighing at him through the window. He slowed down to a light stroll, continuing to take in the warmth of the summer Stern.

Before his mother could continue, he dashed across the corridor, grabbing a satchel, a rag, and a brass water canteen. With a swift movement, he flew out the door, his mother sighing at him through the window. Slowing down to a light stroll, he continued to bask in the warmth of the summer Stern.

Stopping by a tree adorned with bunches of small flowers, he exclaimed, "Elderflowers have bloomed!" Gently grabbing a pair, he held them delicately in his hands, mindful not to let the pollen blow away, as he made his way into a quiet eatery.

“Afternoon, Miss Sue, a pot of hot water and some ice, please,” he said cheerfully to the aged barmaid. She smiled warmly and nodded, carrying a tray over and setting it down before taking a seat beside him, her dress neatly tucked away.

“What brings you here, Rica? Barely anyone out in this heat,” she remarked calmly, opening the pot and placing a strainer inside. “Chamomile, I presume?” she asked, noticing the flowers he had picked from his garden earlier.

“I was looking for Rob; the watercock’s broken again,” he said despondently, handing her the flowers. “I’ve got some mint and elderflower to go with it.”

“That’s a shame. I hoped it would stay for a long day at least. Those Acamia will be tricky without it running for the week,” she admitted sympathetically.

He knew there wasn’t much more Rob could do. The old man used to be a carpenter, not a watchmaker, and no watchmaker could possibly work on his pet project.

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“I’m going to pin it up in the guild. There’s got to be someone in the city,” he resolved determinedly, as he sipped away at the refreshing herbal tea.

“You’re an odd young man, putting ice in your tea. Then again, that’s least of anyone’s worries.”

She was a botanist by trade and had settled down with Rob to open this small place at edge of town. She had been used to have a little Richard come to her holding a leaf, asking her all about what the plant was called and what it could be used for, when he could barely even pronounce it. He would walk home ecstatic whenever he found a plant, she had told him about or showed an illustration in a book.

How he had grown up into a fine young man.

He bid farewell to Sue as he left the eatery, heading straight for the guild office. Stepping inside, he was greeted by a lively atmosphere, with people from all corners of the land bustling about. Among the crowd, he noticed a Sheri gentleman, his white turban stylishly draped around his head, while nearby, a group that looked like a troupe from the Renman mountains stood out.

Approaching the receptionist, he requested a commission form and paid 3 copper notes and 5 coins for it. The notes were worth 10 each, delicately etched with letters and coated in chrome, while the exposed parts had a green hue. He then found an empty table and took out a piece of sharpened graphite, filling out the details of his watering problem. Posting the reward as half a gold, or 500 coppers, he hoped to find someone capable of solving his problem.

Ruri woke up from her nap and saw the sun about to set. She had told Stew she was heading to Hulpshire just out of caution. She didn’t want to reveal her gender, much less her identity, to a seedy merchant who she blackmailed; her destination was out of the question. She asked the cart driver, and he said they were 2 hours from Hulpshire, and they’d reach Valeford by morning.

Upon reaching the town, she quickly headed out, in the setting stern of the short day; she had to retrieve her cache.

She headed to the edge of town, glancing at her compass. “North northwest from the mill” she muttered as she sped up and walked with a jolt in her step. She entered the woodlands and kept walking for another half an hour or so.

She saw it, a tree with a cross she had scratched on its bark. She walked inwards, as she saw another withered tree with cross, she had made, now understanding where she was. She turned sharp and walked forward until she saw the boulder that was half her size.

She looked on the forest floor for a branch, an found the same one she used to hide her cache. Shoving one end of the branch under the rock she pushed down on it hard, and the rock shifted.

“Ha- Ha Haa, class one lever, darling!” she panted, recalling a section from the red book.

She spent the most part of the hour digging out the hemp sack which she had stored her large, ornate suitcase in. She tossed the sack, aside and opened the suitcase. It was dry.

She quickly stripped, undoing the bindings on her breasts. She pulled out a whalebone corset, a cheap cotton undershirt and imitation silk tights. She put on a dress, but she didn’t fully unfold it, holding the frilly lace off the forest floor. She also took her umbrella out of the suitcase, shut it, and quickly made her way back, following the light of town.

Just on the edge of town, she swapped her sandals for finer shoes

“Fuck, these motherfuckers bite!” she cursed out as she took a step in them.

They weren’t comfortable, but they’d have to do. She tried her best to walk straight and headed into an inn in the better part of town, now her dress unfolded.

She noticed a few gazes but maintained her composure. “Am I doing something wrong?” she worried, “I wiped my face down, oh maybe the perfume?” she had started to panic a bit.

Just as she was checking through all the things she could have done wrong; she saw a young man sitting on a table with his friends outside the restaurant. He had hazel hair but was of no remark otherwise. He looked back at her, for a second with no expression, a bit of shock maybe, and then smiled broadly. He waved in a friendly manner.

“Oh."

"I look good.” she whispered to herself, as she gave him a little wave back.

She was surprised, for the lack of a better word.

“I didn’t know I could do that.”

She let a sliver of a smile slip through on her face. She felt odd – but nice.

She did not slow down; in fact, she sped up a little. She had to spend this night, she could set off in the express carriage to Aurelia, the capital. She was a little excited.