Eat your pies and drink your ale and listen well to this story of wonder, of wooing, of weeping, of weddings, of woe—and of some sneezing.
Turnipton was a simple village. The residents preferred it that way. They grew their potatoes and milked their cows. They had their occasional celebration, but no adventures
It was a curious shop. Wedged between a formal wear boutique and an espresso bar its brick structure was weathered and chipped. Rusty chains held a wooden sign with a squiggly line running to a red X as the only clue to what one might find inside.
Well-dressed pedestrians hurried by never sparing
Any ship on approach gets to see the giant ring I call home. It’s a beautiful structure, gleaming brightly against the backdrop of space. Great place to live, but honestly—a circle is the worst when you’re trying to evade someone who wants to space you.
Robyn whipped around a corner. She tried to activate her comms
Come on, try one.” Sal popped a blue strawberry into his mouth.
Jane examined one. “They’re blue. Strawberries are supposed to be red.”
“I know, but my second… no, third cousin Fragar likes to experiment.” Sal took the upcoming exit. “Be adventurous.”
Jane dropped the fruit back into the basket. “I’m not eating
I took the form from the gnarled hand. Behind the receptionist’s thick glasses piercing jade eyes examined me. “Fill this out and your request will be considered.”
Only two other applicants sat in cracked vinyl chairs. The mint paint was chipped and stained. A layer of dust covered most surfaces. I took a seat
“Alice, are you sure you properly calculated the accelerant?” Alpha set the custom incendiary at the base of the wall. “These were meant for breaching reinforced alloys. They’ll vaporize this wood.”
His AI’s smooth voice answered. “I performed a thorough study of the combustibility of wooden structures. The combustion should be appropriate
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Jane’s stomach tightened as she neared the door. She paused to adjust her glasses. “Sal, are you sure a human is okay at a xaether’s party? I don’t want to mess anything up.”
Sal pulled her through the entryway. “Don’t worry. You’re hardly one to cause a stir. Plus, xaethers are a couple millennia old.
“All right, Sire, the Kosimas will handle the ceremony. However, the treasury needs approval for banquet expenditures.”
Falton stared at fluttering drapes. Window’s closed though. Gelaid was literally driving him mad.
“Sire, the royal magistrate wants to discuss writs of authority, the speechwriter needs to meet. After that… Sire?
Falton fell face first on his bed.
“Psst. Lase, where are you?”
“Over here.”
Brande wandered between bookshelves. “Where? I see only books.”
“Yes, isn’t it amazing?” Lase appeared from behind a stack holding four musty tomes.
Crash!
Lase sighed. She hated doing this, especially with her brother.
“Yuck!” More banging.
“Tim, quiet! We’ll get caught,” she hissed.
“What do you even take from an apota…apot-a-carry?”
“Apothecary, you dolt. We’re here for healing ointments.”
“Is this it?” He emerged, reeking of a floral scent with swamp water highlights.
King Falton stared at his empty banqueting hall. This would be his third midwinter feast since taking the throne. The first had been subdued in honor of his beloved father’s death. The second had been a debacle. Falton’s parents had him late in life, therefore, at the time of his father’s passing,
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