4
We crossed the cobblestone street and headed for Minerva's Modern Medieval Market, a mouthful if you dared to mumble it. Minerva was coming out of the storefront door and turning the lock when we stepped onto the sidewalk.
"You're eating out today?" asked Morgan. Her sultry voice hit the high-pitched whine of a child.
"Just up to the castle," Minerva smiled at the three of us. "Worked my fingers to the bone on a new corset. Decided to give them a break and my belly a treat and see what Igraine was serving today."
Minerva was tall with an hourglass shape. Like most women in the town, she wore a mashup of time periods. Her simple, wrap skirt could've come down the runway of Italy. The waist was cinched with leather bindings. Mounted on her shoulders were golden epaulets. Her hair was d
