THIRTY-SEVEN
Gods, Chase looked as nervous as she felt.
"So, we should maybe start with a drink, like in the story?" Chase suggested, pouring two cups brimful.
Rosa sniffed hers. "Which mead is this?"
Chase shrugged. "You're the expert, not me."
She took a cautious sip. "This is the medicinal mead. There's precious little left, and no knowing if I'll be able to make it as well as my grandmother. Best pour it back in the jug and put it somewhere safe. I'll go down to the cellar and find us something more suitable to drink." Clumsily, she wrapped a blanket around herself and headed down the stairs.
"Right. I'll...stoke the fire, so it's warmer up here, for when you come back," he called after her.
Definitely as nervous as she was. She considered backing out of the deal altogether,
