Ninth Day of Christmas: Canute.

These women are driving me mad, I so desperately want to touch them, ravage them, I want to strip Estrith bare and take her chastity on the table, I want to drag Krystanya to bed and show her what happens in every farm in Hverby, then Lieddi, I want to manhandle her, I want her to challenge me, I want to dominate that spirit. GAH. I always figured my sin was greed not lust, its easy to control greed when you live here, no luxuries, no vast sums, but lust? Surrounded by two women I've loved for years and one I met a week ago but felt it's been a lifetime aside their lovely bodies? I do not think I can control it so much. I turn to face the window, it's still black as night outside. I need to go to confession. I need to get out of here before I sin with my body, not just my mind. 

As my mind continues to list through everything I want to do to those three lustful maidens. I, as best I can, dress silently. After donning my tunic, thick fur-lined coat, a scarf, and my thick polish cap, I sneak back into my room. There, underneath my bed, covered in dust, I find one of my few real treasures, a bronze Persian lantern, cast with the icon of the men and horses of what the merchant says was Khoressan, something I confirmed later with a Turkic heathen in Budapest. Filling it with oil and slipping my way outside I draw the flint and steel from the porch and set the thing alight with a ting. Finding my walking stick on the ground I set forth to town.

The walk in the still-black morning is treacherous, even with hobbed boots, a walking stick, and a lantern. A lantern, something usually reserved only for armies on the march and the wealthiest of cities, is not even enough to save me from slipping in the howling wind. The muddy road is slicker than an oil-soaked slab of polished marble and each time my knees or elbows slam against the stone-hard I can feel the cold bite the coming bruises. It is of little concern, there is no salvation of the flesh, come bruises, come cuts. The town council doesn't bother lighting the night torches in the wintertime, they'd just get blown out anyways, but I can tell when the town starts as I see the road turn from mud, to gravel, to cobblestones. It's something of a shame that it isn't graveled all the way through given how much easier it is to walk through in the winter. Confession and my sure-coming pennance shall free me of sin once again. The thought of that drives me further into the biting wind and ice-slick roads. See the Church, looming like a castle tower lit only the slightest bit by the sliver of the moon, but just seeing it allows me to find my way through the unlocked gates into the only respite between here and the small archway made of Prussian bricks.

Underneath the archway, I look down at my hands, scraped raw but not bleeding, my elbows are bruised by not busted, but my knees have let blood into the woolen long johns beneath my trousers, not that I need to check. Though, I know that I'll bust something on the way between here and the inside of the church knowing how slick the steps can get in wintertime. I set out onto the small cobbled path through the graveyard, stepping like a heron in high water. I set my foot onto the first step, and can feel my balance slip with my boot, I press my lamp to my body, only for it to swing up and cut my face as I am forced into a kneeling position, the cold already making its way into the cuts beneath the layers of hemp trouser and woolen johns. I force myself up again, putting the lamp into the same hand as my walking stick and try again. The first step nearly sends me off again but a hob catches and lets me to the second. I plant my stick into the slot of a missing cobblestone and stabilize. After having no fewer than two steady points, the rest of the stairs come slowly but easily.

Staring at the iron-bound doors, I press against it slightly to see if the lockbar is in place. It isn't. It never is. Yet I check anyway. With that I pry open the door the smallest bit and slip inside. Father Ulf is standing there waiting, his foot tapping and sleeping hat still one. After he realizes its me his face seems to brighten a bit.

“So boy, what brings ya 'ere in the wee hours of the morn'?" He asks expectantly.

“The same thing I asked you near 'nough to a week back Father Ulf, for guidance." I answer.

“The womenfolk? What of them?" He asks groggily.

“They want to bring me to bed, and I must say I'd like the three of them." I confess, feeling the weight of the statement off of my chest.

Father Ulf just looks at me in consideration. The silence continues as he looks at me, his eyes judging me, searching my soul like an eagle for the squirrels of sin. It feels like forever, but he sighs. “Canute, I hate to reveal this to you but in times before men would take multiple wives, now, as concubines are forbidden by both court and clergy, now many men of power take mistresses instead. While Saint Paul said “that a man is a husband to but one wife", Abraham took concubines, and as I and many other of my peers see it, a man should only have one wife in normal circumstances." He says in his usual grandfatherly tone.

“What are you implying?" I ask, not sure what to make of his words.

Father Ulf rubs his temples in obvious frustration. “Canute, last night I saw three nisse in here, and their obvious intention from what I heard was to not get you burned alive for a spell they cast on you. I'm saying you are not a normal circumstance mainly because it isn't worth the exorcism to dispel a backwards but not evil spirit. I suspect they knew of your problems of the heart and sought to solve it in a way they understand, they're old creatures and remember the old ways." He explains.

I feel my heart sink as he details my curse. “So what am I to do if I cannot get this cur-" I plead before being cut off.

Father Ulf puts his fingers over my lips. “You are not cursed, the nisse make a home more than a house and I will not allow the slander of them even if they are finicky louts. Go home, enjoy the gift they've given you and I've tacitly allowed it, I'm heading to Lund today to explain your situation to the Bishop, luckily for you, you're not a well known, nor is Hveryby" He says his heckles clearly rising.

I can feel my sinking heart harden with a bite of anger. “So I'm just supposed to go home and lay with women I'm not yet wed?!" I demand heat in my voice.

“Oh you will lay with them, just try to avoid doing so in a manner that will leave them with child. And trust me, as a priest who has had to drag men from whorehouses, there are three main ways a woman lays with a man, all I'm asking is for you to not do one." He bites, pressing a finger into my chest. “You are a young man, either you will take them to bed, or they will take you, very few winter betrothals see virgin brides, and those that are still know the other's body too-intimately to be considered pure. Every good clergyman knows this, and knows when to absolve and when to demand atonement." The old priest continues in a softer tone.

“Wha-" I begin a sea of questions filling my mind.

“Go home to Canute and think about my words along the way, and until then, only come back for confession on Saturday and Sunday Mass. I won't have you any other time as I have given all the advice I can, now the rest is up to you." He ordains before picking up his cane and beginning to thrust at me with it. “Now. Get. Out. Of. My. Church. And. Tend. To. Your. Problems." He continues driving me from my chair and out of the door in a frantic hurry.

I scamper over and past the doorway when I hear the heavy door slam behind me. I hear a faint clacking noise as I look down to see my feet have started some sort of strange in-between of a shiver and tapping. Rather than try to walk down the stairs in a dignified manner in the dark, I take a seat, and like gondolier, use my walking stick to propeller myself down the stairs and the cobblestone path to the arch where I rise to my feet, and venture back into the frozen stones of the Tillundvej through town. Now with the wind to my back and an clarity on how I ought to treat my beloved betrothed, I set forth with a pep in my step, lantern now on my belt, and free hand fingering my knife to get those lovely women out of their clothes should they be as eager as they usually are. Finally, I'll get to enjoy the company of lovely women for the first time in my life.

When I return to Koborgskor, it's still dark, the hearth is still coals, and the candles are unlit. I slide into the living room and as I'm hanging up my coat I realized Mother is in her chair.

“Back from the Church already?" She asks, in her usual, motherly tone.

“How'd ya-..." I demand in a whisper-shout

“We." Cuts in Jan.

“Which is why I'm going to go visit my sister in Loyaabro until Julefest." Mother tells me with a wink and a smile

“And why I will be spending the next few days at the Hosten's Inn, both to tell Mr. Hosten the good news, and see if I can't poach Fot to be my next apprentice, since I'll be short a daughter to be sure." He says with a wink then snags a mug of my cider.

Why are they doin' this?...

…

Oh.

Alone time with the girls.

…

How thoughtful.

“Thank you both so much for being so considerate. Mother, you need some coin for a gift if not I have this thing 'ere." I say pointing at the Persian lantern.

“Firstly, when and how'd you get that? Secondly I already prepared a coin purse." Mother states with intrigue.

“Got it in Krakow, I was making a deal with a Greek and made a bet a coin on the change in the price of coal, I won and he knew he could sell the Norwegian stockfish for its weight in Silver in Tyrol, so he threw in the lantern as a gift thinking Krystanya and I were soon to wed. When I was in Budapest, I asked a Tartar if he could read it. He told me he wasn't a Tartar but rather a Tajik, a Persian sort, and that the lantern was from his homeland." I explain.

Jan turns to me. “We practically robbed the Krawowers blind with the stockfish trade, and Tyrol was a still-better market?!" Jan interrupts.

“I guess, I got a seven-to-one return, so I was rather contented, not worth the two month's drive nor dealing with the Empire or Pechenegs if we 'er to avoid it." I explain just letting my consciousness stream out.

“Fair 'nough." Jan shrugs.

“G'night Jan and Canute." Mother announces in a whisper. 

“And to you" Jan returns.

The two leave back to their rooms. I stand there and try to process my wee-morning adventure. Like always, I prepare a bowl of porridge for the nisse, conflicted as to why I began to do so unconsciously. As I cut the butter the hunger that had been welling in the freezing snow began to nip at my stomach, demanding food. Denying the urge to shove the oatmeal down my gullet, I reach for a jar not commonly used for drinking outright and straight from the flask, drink a healthy amount of thick, creamy, and rich buttermilk before stripping down to the nude, and climbing back under the covers. The heating iron's heat still remains in the bed making it a cozy, toasty place to lay my head and sleep. Before I do fall into the great realm of dreams, I see four figures at the foot of my bed, hugging and jumping with glee. They look like little nisse and are surely here to spread the Julefest spirit.

For the first time in a long time I dream of something I can only really describe as feelings and nonsense. I am floating in a sea of colors and patterns, where the sky twists and shifts and the sea churns and changes. I quickly realize I am, in fact, on a small raft of sorts. On one side of the ship is a calm sea, still but wholly devoid of life. The other is rough, with visibly violent currents, but also teeming with fish and islands filled with game, fruit, and livestock. I continue to paddle between the two extremes. Eventually the narrow band between the two I sail narrows. 

I can't make a decision on which direction I will go, the waters of the desolate sea seem so calm, I could go forever, but for what? The other looks to be torturous sailing, but the prize makes it all worth it. Just as the band narrows again, I see a hand pale as fresh milk grab the bottom of my raft, and with its other hand, pushes my craft ever so slightly into the violent currents of the wicked sea. While the moment I feel rage at the violation of my sovereignty as I have to paddle for my life, my lips drying out as they are splashed with salt water and the line between sweat and seawater becomes a meaningless difference. My muscles soon are pushed beyond overworked and into protest as some joints lock as I frantically look for one of the once-so-near islands. On the horizon I see land and my body stops in its vain protest of motion once I accept it as real.

The currents cross between helping and hindering and running impossible paths, some overpower me but others I can power through, regardless the shore gets closer and closer. I grow dizzy from the exhaustion and turnabouts, but still chase that band of sand until I suddenly stop and realize the raft has bottomed out. I take a moment to breathe and take in the glory of the island before me. I trudge through the water and sucking-sand until I feel fine, dry sand between my toes and collapse from exhaustion. I suck in air until I am seemingly magically restored, the aches in my muscles and rawness of my throat fade to nothing. I look up and see the faces of a cow, mare, and heifer, which is odd, since only one of those three should be obvious to me. I reach out, compelled to touch them. I pet their snouts and seem to drift into a state of waking unconsciousness.

I rise with the sun back in my bed, wanting to touch and no longer fearing it. I hear one of the girls cooking in the kitchen. I'm feeling good, my heart's racing, my member is ready for the day. I throw off my covers, and swing open the door to find Estrith cooking alone. Her face is twisted in shock and delight as she takes in the view of me. I take a good look at her, a cooking apron, her hose, and a tunic. Not anything else. I take a look upon the pan on the fire, two eggs and a slice of salt pork. 

“Oh… Uh… Hi Canute!" Estrith beams, her nose losing color and ears flashing red in her cow-faced blush. 

“Mornin' Estrith. You 'ear that Jan has gone to stay at your folks' inn?" I say as I walk next to her to grab my morning cup of cool cider. 

“And what about your ma, I haven't 'eard her this mornin' either" She asks, still focused on her cooking.

“She left too, she went to go see her sister o'er in Loyaabro." I say as I raise my mug to my mouth. I pause for a moment to say. “Well I hope you didn't make a portion for her." Before beginning to drink my morning cider, the familiar apply taste reminded me it's morning.

“God's Bones I made enough for two." She sighs, her shoulders sinking in visible disappointment.

Seeing and opportunity. “You know? Its cold enough to break fast with breakfast." I remark, moving behind Estrith. “Though, if I am to be honest I hunger for more than food." I say moving back beside her for which I am rewarded with a look of both annoyance and wanting.

“You had best go to confession for those thoughts Canute-" She begins. “You already did, didn't you?" She says turning away from her pan.

I nod. “Yes, apparently he's allowed the strange arrangement as the nisse are at fault for this." I say wholly honestly.

The flash of indignation immediately slides to realization. “Does that explain Lieddi? I knew Krystanya and I both had interest." She asks pointedly.

“I believe so, regardless Father Ulf considers us four betrothed and refuses to see me for anything but Saturday confession and Sunday Mass. He ran me out of the Church this morning with his cane." I continue only to hear the distinctly womanly giggling from beside me. “Aside from that he won't even be in town for service as he's going to Lund to talk with the Bishop." I continue only for the giggling to become all-out laughing.

I stand confused. “I didn't know you thought we were engaged, in fact, you never asked properly, I want to hear you ask for my hand." She coos her tail swishing like an excited dog's.

I can feel my toes go cold at the statement and I can feel my heart flutter, but quickly they regain their warmth and I regain my composure. “Give me the ring off your finger, and I'll do it." I say tenderly.

She shivers suddenly. “Let me finish making breakfast first." She murmurs her whole snout tinting red.

The next few minutes are a strange limbo of emotions, the twings of my heart seem to reverberate but it allows my mind to prepare what it can about the situation and for me to regain control over my body. Estrith tends to her cooking, but her movements are stiff and jittery as she turns bacon, toast, and eggs over on the pan. She shakily reaches for the plates near me but I intercept them, holding them realizing my own arms are unsteady. She loads the two plates with the food and I shakily set them down on the table. The look on her face suggests she's a hair from tears as she stands quivering.

I turn to face Estrith after setting the food down, and I notice she's worked her ring off and is clutching it in her hand. I extend an open hand, and I can feel my heart try its hardest to leave my chest, first through the ribs, second through the stomach, but it remains and so does my shaking, outstretched hand. I can feel her hesitation between us, but eventually she slowly stretches her hand to meet mine and I can feel the warm metal press into my hand before she timidly pulls back, the golden band still in my palm. I cup the ring in my hand and pull it towards me, my heart beating like a hundred thunderstorms, and as I go to kneel, I can feel my knees not wanting to move, but they do.

I look up at Estrith, her brown fur and tan dress complimenting each other, her bust and hips radiating a yet unused fertility, and a face, however cow-like, that bears a tender, now nervous smile and eyes that prove an honest heart. A single thought crosses my mind before I act. “How funnily will you botch this?" It prompts, but I push it aside.

“Estrith of Hverby, will you marry me?" I ask without stutter or hesitation in my tone.

“Yes! yes! yes…" She whispers, as tears begin to stream down her face. 

I quickly rise and take her into my arms and she begins to stream kisses onto my cheeks and lips. “I hope-" I begin before she presses a deep kiss onto my lips. I open my eyes to see her own are open too, a look of “Shut up" but in a playful, loving way.

She soon lets go of me. “I suppose we had better eat the meal while its hot, no?" I remark as I move towards the table. Estrith gives me a look I can't quite place.

“You'll need it." She remarks.

“Don't tell me you're trying to roll hay." I remark, scandalized.

“Rolling hay makes bales, I don't think it's wise to wed with child." She remarks.

Recalling Father Ulf's words. “Still rolling, but no hay." I remark. “How-" 

Estrith shrugs and gives me a look that suggests “think" before speaking. “I've got older brothers, who have wives, who offer both endless teasing about what I would do with my future husband, and useful advice on how to do it." She offers.

“Ah- well- I -" I begin, tripping on my words, I just dive into my food to avoid trying to finish that start of a sentence. Of course the food is good, its bacon, toast, and eggs. It's hot, savory, salty, and hearty and it's exactly what a man needs to start his day. I look to see Estrith sitting smug at the other end of the table, just pecking at her food. Mostly the bread.

“I'm not terrible hungry, you mind eating the eggs and meat? I really just wanted the toast." She offers, to which I am given no choice as she reaches over and dumps the food onto my plate. I snarf it down, of course. 

“So have you got any plans for today?" I ask.

“No not really, hows about yourself?" She replies.

“I figured I would spend most of the day in bed enjoying the good sleeping weather." I answer candidly.

“Interesting, are you still sore from the big sale day?" She asks while I take a few more bites.

“A bit, but not in a way that hurts, if anything I'm more sore from my handling of Lieddi." I answer to which she just nods.

She reaches over and snatches my empty plate from the table, when she passes me she takes my fork too. “Sleep well." She offers as she goes about doing the dishes.

I go back to my room, crawl beneath the furs, quilts, and blankets, feeling the ambient cold of the unheated room and drift off, finally letting myself feel the aches in my joints after Estrith mentioned it. I drift into sleep, just as I had hoped to do.

I slowly return to a waking state, wholly unsure of what time it is, but I do feel an unfamiliar weight across the whole of my body, and something with fur on my neck. I open my eyes just a crack and see a pile of clothes on the floor before closing them again to enjoy the pleasant warmth and weight. The long I remain awake the more I begin to feel and know about my surroundings and body. The first thing I notice is how much higher my pile of blankets is, the second is the morning wood that was missing when I woke up earlier.

“Wha-" I say as I stretch out my arms. The weight begins to shift and I can see a nose that looks exactly like Estrith's. Oh heavens.

“Did you think you'd be able to hide from me in sleep?" She asks, running a finger up my thigh and showing her face as she flicks up the blanket pile with her snout, her green eyes now suggesting the path to legitimize her motherly demeanor. One part of me wants to indulge the offer, the other worries. I recall the dream, and how indecision made it so that the decision pushed upon me, even if it was the right one. I clench my hands in frustration as I build my resolve.

Having mustered what I can I raise myself up casting off the pile of blankets and furs and revealing the naked body of Estrith. I strip completely, and let my manhood present its intention. I get back in bed, letting the furry body of Estrith rest against mine again as I rebuild my stack of blankets, and I lean in to kiss Estrith who pulls me tight. We lay under the covers, our lips locked and our bodies embracing one another when Estrith takes my hand and presses it between her legs. She pulls her lips back. “Just rub there." In turn I take hers with my free hand and place at the base of my shaft. “Then stroke this." I say before going back for more kissing.

As we kiss I can feel her body tremble as I rub her womanhood blindly, and while pleasant, her stroking is too gentle to go anywhere. Suddenly the cow woman shifts to straddle between me her eyes open and the green looking crazed. In her hands is a small bottle of oil with a little ribbon wrapped around the neck. “While I've never done anything like this before, my sister-in-laws were quite clear." She starts.

“I'm sorry, what are we doing?" I ask impulsive and incredulously.

She gives me a smug glance. “As I was saying, a girl must be married as a maiden if she seeks to be an honest woman. BUT they want to be ravaged by their lover, so how does a leaking womanhood spare its maidenhood?" She continues.

“I dunno, do they expect their men to rub between their thighs?" I ask.

She wags her finger in a playful way at me. “Not at all, they go a tad farther back, and use their derriere, to use it, they clean them well inside and out, and make the motion smooth with spit or oil." She explains. Seeing the brewing question on my face she restarts before I can begin. “You can tell me how you feel when I've had my fun." She adds.

I keep my reservations to myself as she leans over me, her sizable breast sagging down onto my chest as she pours the oil over her butthole. I would be lying if the taboo excited me, but putting it a butt? It seems wrong. Who am I to judge, the only reason this is happening is because of a troll-curse I brought upon them. I reach out and take one of her hands and place the other on her waist. Looking down her hips sit far wider than mine, perhaps as wide as my shoulders if not slightly moreso. Her light fur hides the better part of her belly's pudge, which is expected an innkeepers daughter. She raises her body up, and taking the warmth of her breasts with her.

“Ready?" She asks, though something in her voice suggests the remark is mostly for her. She moves the hand I am holding to her waist and I hold the two together sinking my fingers into her soft waist, enough to no longer see the edges of my fingers, losing them to her fur. Her tail sways as she raises it high, and she shifts her waist to press against the head of my manhood the oil applied to her, second choice, so to speak. The entrance is tight, so much so I think it will be rather difficult to move once inside of her, if it can be done at all. She shifts more, and I take my right hand off her waist and stabilize my shaft. I look up at Estrith's face, her green eyes burning with intent and worry. I Gently try to guide her with the hand I still have on her waist, pressing into the incredible resistance of the orifice.

A sudden thought crosses my mind, one that goes straight across the tongue. “Estrith, relax, I'll guide it, take a deep breath and let me take care of it." I say softly. 

She hesitates, but her shoulders slouch back and she leans back. I can feel the tension around my member subside just a bit. I shift her body down, pressing her calmed bottom to me once again. It gives more, enough that I can almost get through. I begin to run my hand still on he waist up and down. “Almost there, deep breaths, remember." I say trying to soothe her nerves.

It works, and I can press my member into her butt, the still-too-tight entrance rapidly tapering off into just a warm moist feeling, there isn't much past it.

I meet eyes with Estrith again, her face is proud and clearly aroused. “See, just had to relax-" I start before she raises her hips just enough to catch my glans and goes back down again. The whole bed rattles under the studden motion and unlike her hand, it certainly ticks something inside of me. Both of my hands go back to her waist as I guide her up and down, the bed rattling and the narrow band of tight pleasure following the motion. I rise from my half-seated position, now eye level with Estrith. I can feel her hot breath on my face, hear the slight variance in her soft moans, she reaches over and pulls me in for a kiss, the kind where her long tongue seems to be halfway between licking the back of my throat and a french kiss. Between bated breaths and lustful kisses I stare at her sloshing bosom. The pink nipples peeking out from behind brown and tan fur make me want to grab them, tug them, and find new ways of using them.

I lift Estrith up, she ways less than a half-wheel of cheese and while still inside of her lay her down on her back. She spreads her legs wide, revealing her womanhood, before she covers it with her hand. I pry my eyes away from her body, back to her face to see a playful grin. “Not that one…" She coos in a way that nearly sounds like a moo. Her tail swishing into my view as her bottom half practically dangles over the bed supported by my arms around her thighs and Estriths back on the bed. I thrust into her, the speed of the not-babymaking now up to me, and the shifting, creaking noises of the bed mount as I drive myself into Estirth, feeling her insides and feeling my own pleasure rise as I ravage her. The sensation comes quick and I lean in to Kiss Estrith's eager lips as I fill her with my seed. Pulling out of her she leaks some of my white seed.

Separated from her I can feel the sweat across my whole body, and how cold its rapidly getting. I sump onto the bed, panting and drained of both fluids and energy. Estrith draws heavy breaths too. “It that's how good the second choice is, I can see why so many fall to this vice." She pants, her whole body trembling as if she rode a canoe through a spring storm.

We lay there together for some time, panting, trembling, and enjoying the satisfaction on each other's faces. I turn to the door to see a familiar eye looking in but am too spent to think about it. “Gooday Krystanya, you can come in if you want." I say raggedly.

The door creaks open some more and the tall, slender figure of Krystanya slides in assessing the scene in her four paces to Estrith and I. “Estrith, I must say, I never pinned you as the type to choose sodomy over fornication." She says with a cocked eyebrow.

Estrith draws a deep breath through her nose. “Funny, you should say that, cause I can smell your intent from here." She says, getting up unsteadily as she says that.

Krystanya keeps her eyes on Estrith as she moves behind her. “Just wha-" Suddenly Estrith lifts her dress and pulls down her hose and smallclothes in the same burst of movement.

“You're just mad I got here first, but your desire was the same as mine." She coos, pulling back and letting Krystanya put her clothes back to normal, her face taking a distinct poppy-colored tint beneath her fur. “Either way, envy won't get you anywhere. Canute and I need to clean ourselves so if you want to join us, you're more than welcome…" She says as reaches down and grabs her clothes. 

I get up and follow suit, beginning to dress myself. “Funny how you volunteer me to get it running." I tease. I look over to Krystanya and see that the jealousy at Estrith has been replaced by some sort of embarrassment at the situation.

“You know I can't say no to that…" She murmur, shuffling a tad.

Once I start the fire, shovel in some snow, empty a few frozen pails and ice-filled troughs, the bath is once again sauna-hot under the tent. I enjoy the soothing heat and the sights of two beautiful naked women, and afterwards I get about working around the property. Fixing a few fences, rolling an extra bale of hay to my milk cows, just a bunch of routine maintenance, and in it, I find my usual peace again.

When I go back inside it is well past dark and I find Estrith weaving, and Krystanya teaching Leiddi how to use the loom. I can smell salt pork in the pot on the hearth and I see pan-bread on the table. I grab a mug of cider and sit down in my fathers chair and begin to chat with my women. The conversation centers on my bedroom happenings with Estrith, who seems flustered and proud at the same time with her smile poorly hidden behind her hand. Leiddi seems to think the whole idea is a sham, while Krystanya seems considering, asking many questions of Estrith, and very few to me. 

Dinner is ready not long after and once the hearty meal is finished we go to our rooms where I find a note from Krystanya on my bed. “Meet me in the stable at midday tomorrow." 

Oh me, oh my.