*Henrietta*
I have surely gone mad, to have Dimos Softpaw with a flashlight held aloft following me as I guide him through the narrow network of tunnels beneath the city while off in the distance the royal clocktower tolls the hour of midnight.
This afternoon, rather than fetching the once-destined-to-be-Alpha’s clothing, we visited a tailor with ready-made apparel that required the minimum of adjustments. While he originally balked at the idea of me paying for the purchases, I used the tack of reminding him that his father had presented me with several expensive gifts, so I am simply returning the favor. Although he is no longer attired in evening clothes, he somehow seems all the more handsome, drat him!
I don’t much like the relief that washes through me with his admittance that he h
