Distractions
… and a touch of Aeryl’s wisdom.
‘Oh come now, Irenya, you have hardly eaten for days.’ Aeryl sighed at the closed face across the table and the untouched meat rapidly congealing. It took the herbalist back many summers. Both her sons had been fussy eaters. Would not touch vegetables one day—chicken the next.
Irenya pushed away from the table and made for the door. Aeryl followed and slid an arm around her waist.
‘If you are off to the mirror, I shall walk with you, heartling. I need to see Barrith.’
‘Oh… the cook?’
Aeryl felt absurdly pleased. Irenya had not met the man but she remembered his name and his duty. ‘The route to the kitchens is longer, I know, but the walk might benefit this.’ The herbalist patted her belly. ‘Though it will never be like this.’ She tweaked
