Knowing that she had lived a privileged and easy life, Terra expected that the lizzies would get up earlier than she would, so that upon rising, she would find herself alone in the hearth room. That wasn’t the case. She was the first one up. She stood and stretched, surprised also that, even with no pillow and practically no mattress, her back was not sore. As she stood wondering where her clothes might be, she heard her stomach growl. She didn’t remember seeing a laundry, but she did recall seeing where the food was prepared, and she thought she could find it. So, wrapping the sheet around her, she started off in search of something to break her fast.

It didn’t take her long to find the kitchen, where there was no one about. Looking through several large pots along the wall, she discovered a cache of dragon fruit. She had eaten the red and green pokey orbs before, but found them bland and not very filling. Continuing with her search, she soon discovered a kiwi, a green melon, and thank Kafira, some strawberries. With a bronze knife that had been left sitting on the counter nearby, she cleaned and cut all the fruit, making herself a little salad. She used the hollowed out melon rind as a bowl.

Holding the makeshift container in one hand, she used the other to pass the pieces of fruit to her mouth. She ate as she walked back to the hearth room. Along the way she passed several servants going here and there. The palace was beginning to come to life. In fact, when she arrived back in the hearth room, all of those who had been asleep, were now awake. Ssu and Sirris were up and gone. A servant was helping old Tsollot out of the room. Both Szakhandu and Tokkenoht were in close consultation with Hsrandtuss.

“There you are,” said the King when he saw Terra. “Some were afraid you had run away or gotten lost.”

“No,” said the girl.

“What do you have there?” He waved for her to approach.

She held out her fruit salad for his inspection.

“Look at this,” the king said to the two queens. “She made a bowl out of this melon. This is why humans are so dangerous. They are always coming up with something new.”

“I don’t think this is a good example,” said Tokkenoht.

“No,” agreed Szakhandu. “I have seen fruit served this way before. Surely you have too.”

“Who looks at fruit bowls?” growled Hsrandtuss, ignoring the fact that he had just been doing that very thing. “Both of you, go away.”

Both females left the room, leaving Terra alone with the king. He lay back down on his mat.

“Sit beside me.”

Terra sat cross-legged beside the great lizzie.

“Feed me some of that fruit.” He opened his mouth and she tossed several pieces in. “I used to like fruit, but I don’t eat as much as I used to. I probably don’t eat as much of it as I should, but don’t repeat that to any of my wives.”

“It’s odd, isn’t it, that nature would provide such a thing just hanging from the trees?” said Terra. “It’s a kind of magic.”

“You are an odd little thing,” he said, opening his mouth and allowing her to throw in a few more pieces. “Why exactly have you come here?”

“My brother sent me.”

“Yes, I know that. But why? What are you here to do?”

“I am here to see with fresh eyes.”

“What does that mean, little female?”

“I think it means to see without fear.”

“And you aren’t afraid?”

“I’m afraid of many things, I think.”

“Then we shall go see with fresh eyes together, eh?” The king shot to his feet much faster than the girl would have expected based on her previous observations. He pointed to her sleeping mat, where her clothes, her helmet, and her pistol, were stacked. “Get your paint and feathers on and then come to the dining hall.”

Terra ate the last few bites of her fruit, licked her fingers clean, and then got dressed. Though she had worn her clothes only a few hours, women in Brech society routinely changed several times a day, so she was happy that her khakis had been laundered while she had slept. She managed easily to roll up the cuffs of her pants, and tried to do so with the sleeves of her shirt. Eventually she had to take it off to perform the modification. At last she was completely decked out and started off toward the morning meal.

The dining hall was far less crowded than it had been the evening before. Though the palace served a morning and evening meal, most lizzies ate only once a day. Hsrandtuss was already in his seat while Ssu gathered food for him. Terra went to the food tables and put together her own meal. When she sat down in the same chair she had used the previous night, she had a plate half filled with kippers. The remainder was mostly roasted vegetables, including parsnips, potatoes, and green peppers, along with some small but meaty tomatoes.

Terra surprised herself by eating so much. When she looked up she noticed that the rest of the diners were watching her. At first she thought that this was simply because she was a human, but then she noticed that most of their plates had less than half the food of hers. She shrugged. It wasn’t her fault that she was warm blooded.

“We shall go hunting this morning, Earthworm!” called the king. He looked at another male who sat across the room from the girl. “What do you think, Slechtiss? Can you find weapons small enough for this little soft-skin to use?”

“I will see to it, Great King,” the male replied, staring at Terra.

Lady Terra leaned over to one side, so that she would have a better view of Yessonarah around Nichol Borrin’s shoulder. The lizzie city-state was quite impressive. It rivaled Port Dechantagne in overall size, and was much more dense. Surrounded by a great stone wall, it stretched up the side of a mountain on the right and touched the shores of a large lake on the left. Within, were a multitude of wooden and stone buildings. Poking up from among them, were six large pyramids and five other enormous buildings.

“Let’s move along,” she told Nichol.

The iguanodon upon which they sat started forward at his command, but with a pronounced limp due to a horrible gash on its right flank. This uneven movement caused the two men squeezed into the howdah behind Terra to bump into her with its every step. It took the better part of the morning for the poor creature to make it from the hilltop to one of the large gates in the city wall.

As they approached, hundreds of lizzies stopped what they were doing to stare and point and the strangers. It was perhaps not the event that it might have once been. Human visitors were no longer completely unheard of. Still it was an unusual sight, even without the severely wounded mount.

Just inside the gates, the dinosaur stopped in front of a wooden building. Two human men and three lizzies came running out, joining the hundreds of lizzies who were watching from both sides of the broad street.

“Nichol, what happened?” asked a grey bearded man, looking up. “Where are the others? Where is Uncle Phoebus?”

“Dead,” came the reply. “All dead.”

The driver slid down from his mount’s shoulder and tapped the beast on his front leg until he sank as close to the ground as possible. The two men on the back hopped down and then the three of them held their arms up for Terra. The girl climbed out of the howdah, turned, and dropped backwards into their waiting arms.

“Seven men lost on one trip,” said the older man in a barely audible voice.

“Only six,” said Nichol. “Claude broke his arm playing rugby and stayed home.”

“What happened?” asked the other man from the building.

“Gorgosaurus—seven or eight. They hit us all at once. We didn’t stand a chance. I would be dead too, if it wasn’t for Lady Terra. The beast hit Choco on the haunch and knocked us ass over teakettle. She just stood up and shot it in the face.”

“Thank you, My Lady,” said the older man.

“I expected a .45 would only make him angry,” said Terra. “Still it’s better to do something than nothing in those situations. Surprisingly, it hurt him enough to send him on his way.”

“I’ve never heard of the gorgoes working in a team like that.”

“Mating season,” said the old lizzie just behind him in spit-n-gag, as humans frequently called the lizzie tongue. “Unattached males will hunt in groups until mid-summer.”

“I’m Garl Borrin,” said the man, taking Terra’s hand and pumping it so hard her entire body shook. “Come inside where we can offer you some hospitality.”

“We haven’t eaten in two days,” said Nichol. “We used the last of our water yesterday.”

“Sweet Kafira! Come, come. Kellerick will take care of your mount. We’ll get you fed and get some water into you. You must be ready to collapse, My Lady.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say no to a cup of tea and a biscuit, but what I really need is to clean up and change clothes. I may end up naked, as we’ve lost my entire collection of luggage. I shall be very cross if I find a gorgosaurus wearing my best new evening dress.”

Some two hours later, Terra left the building, which turned out to be the offices of The Borrin & Tate Trading Company. Guided by one of the lizzie employees, she trudged up street, among the great throngs of reptilians going about business of their own. The Borrins had supplied her with a fresh khaki shirt and trousers. Though both were size small, they were huge on her. The sleeves of the shirt were rolled up four times, giving her huge cuffs at her wrists. They matched the huge cuffs at her ankles. Her own belt now struggled to hold up those pants and to support her holster and the heavy pistol.   She was able to wear her own boots and helmet too, but while she hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, she had simply forgone any attempt at underwear.

As they walked along, the lizzies avoided her even more than they did in Port Dechantagne.

“They have never seen an adolescent human,” explained her guide. He might have meant wild human, as the lizzie word for adolescent and wild were the same.

“Is the god at home?” she asked, looking skyward as they passed the base of a massive pyramid.

“No, but he is expected for the Spring Festival.”

Terra was exhausted by the time they reached the palace gate. She couldn’t remember ever having walked that far. By the gate stood a massive lizardman whose body was painted completely red.

“This human is here to see the king,” said her guide to the guard, and then to her, “I will bid you goodbye.”

Terra watched him walk back the way they had come. She took off her helmet and wiped the perspiration from her brow with her sleeve. Then she looked up at the frightening red creature towering over her.

“If they chopped you up, they could make four of me and still have something left over.”

The lizzie took a step back and hissed.

“Take me to your leader, please.”

The storm continued to rage outside the walls of the little house on Dolphin Island. The five young women had to make due with lighting from a single flashlight and several candles. They only ate food that could be eaten cold, and concentrated on that which was in the refrigerator, since without power the food within would eventually go bad.

“I wish I knew which direction the storm is moving,” said Penelope, as they sat around the table, eating a dinner of cheese sandwiches and cabbage and fennel salad.

“We had a hand crank radio,” said Eleanor, “but I broke the crank off of it.”

“Cranked it too hard?” wondered Penelope.

The blonde nodded.

“I can hook up the laptop directly to the internet,” said Astrid. “We’ve got enough battery power to run it for several hours.”

Unplugging the now unusable router, the girl inventor connected one MPro 5 notebook to the cable. Loading up the browser, she pulled up the satellite image of the storm.

“It’s passing to the north of us,” she told the others. “It’s not moving very fast though. I would guess we’ve got another two days of rough weather.”

“That’s what I figured,” said Adeline. “We’d better turn off the computer and conserve the battery.”

“First though,” said Penelope. “We each need to send a message to our loved ones telling them we’re okay.”

When it was her turn, Astrid sent the following message, making sure to address it to her mother, father, and to Toby. Power is out here, so no phone, but we are safe and sound. Don’t worry. Love to you all. Call you when we get the power back.

“Sending your love to Toby?” asked Penelope, looking over her shoulder.

“No, I’m just… That’s just what people say. You don’t think he…?”

“Stop worrying about it. He knows how you feel about him and he has since he was old enough to stand.”

“Well…” said Astrid, shrugging. “I guess.”

That night, the wind rattling loose boards and shingles on the outside of the house, made sleep difficult for Astrid. When she finally dozed off, it was late, and she was awakened at least three times during the night. It was a surprise therefor to find that she had slept late into the morning. All of the other young women were up and dresses and sitting around the table eating bread and jam.

“Why did you let me sleep so late?” asked Astrid, as she wiped the sleep from her eyes.

“There wasn’t much point in waking you,” said Penelope. “We can’t do anything but sit around staring at one another.”

“I thought now that it’s light outside, I might take a look at the generator,” returned Astrid.

“It’s light out,” said Eleanor, “but it’s still too windy to go outside. You would be blown off your feet. I’m a little surprised that we haven’t lost the roof.”

“The house is sturdy,” said Adeline. “We are also protected somewhat by the trees.”

“I hope the dolphins are okay,” said Astrid.

“They will be fine,” assured Océane. “They will swim out to the deep water. The storm won’t bother them at all.”

There was just enough light coming in through the boarded up windows that they were able to play a French version of Monopoly during mid-day. In the afternoon, the wind seemed to die down a bit, giving Astrid some hope that maybe the storm would soon be over. Then it grew suddenly dark, and minutes later, the island and the little house were deluged by waves of rain. The girls immediately had to scramble to lay out pots and dishes under the sixteen leaks in the ceiling that ranged from a steady drip to a constant stream.

“I feel like we need to look for two of every animal,” said Penelope.

It was so dark by five o’clock that it could have been midnight. Astrid peaked out a crack in the boards covering the window. All she could see were bushes being bent by the wind and pelted by the rain.

“Astrid,” said Océane, at her elbow. “Will you come help me make dinner?”

The girl inventor followed her to the part of the room that made up the kitchen.

“You seem very nervous,” said the French girl.

“Do I? I guess I am. This is the first hurricane that I’ve ever been in. We don’t get a lot of stormy weather in the southwest U.S.”

“Everything will be fine.”

“Oh, I know it will be,” said Astrid. “At least I know that in my head. I guess some other part of me isn’t so sure.”

“You will feel better after you eat. I’m making sandwiches with the last of the bread and hazel nut spread. I want you to chop of this bag of pistachios and whatever fruit we have left to go on them.”

Astrid found a handful of strawberries and two bananas in the no-longer-cold refrigerator, and diced them up fine, along with the pistachios. Océane sprinkled them on the hazel nut spread before placing the two pieces of bread together.

“I have a secret treat,” said Océane. “We’re all going to have hot cocoa.”

“How are we going to do that?” wondered Astrid. “We don’t have any heat.”

Twelve thousand miles away from Birmisia Colony and the rest of Mallon, was the continent of Sumir. It was the smallest of the world’s twelve continents, but it dominated the others, because Sumir was the ancestral home of all humans. Many people said the continent was shaped like an upside down teardrop. Others said it more resembled an upside down candle flame. At least they agreed that whatever it was, it was upside down. On the northern end was the land of Freedonia, and just off the coast from it, was the island nation of Brechalon, for the past twelve years, forged into a single political unit—The United Kingdom of Greater Brechalon and Freedonia. Roughly in the center of Brechalon, the largest of the three islands that made up Greater Brechalon was Brech City, the capitol of the Kingdom, as well as the vast and still growing Brech Empire.

Birmisia Colony was thick with lizzies. Outside of the colony, there were even more, as most of Mallon was dotted with villages and city-states of lizardmen. In Sumir however, the lizzie population was limited to one. Esther was that one lone lizzie on the continent, and had been for more than four years. If she hadn’t been aware of that fact before, she was constantly reminded as she made her way though the halls of the vast four-story mansion of the Dechantagne-Staff family.

Esther had risen early. She had a suite of rooms in the rear of the third floor that overlooked the courtyard. It was quite nice. She had been raised to sleep in a human bed, but still sometimes took to the floor, sleeping on the rug, with her nose pointed toward the fireplace. Having taken a bath in the wholly inadequate human bathtub, she had dressed in a new pink morning dress. It had been made from a design for typical Brech women, but the seamstress had radically altered it to fit her body, and not the least for her long tail.

As she walked through the hallway, toward the stairs, she encountered five of the household staff. It seemed quite odd to her, but here in Brech City, the servants were as human as the masters. In each case, save one, the staff members had gone to great pains to avoid her, either taking a sudden turn down another hall, or ducking quickly into a room.

Willa Armice was an upstairs maid who took care of Esther’s room among others. The two had become friendly over the previous months.

“Good morning, Lady Esther,” said Willa.

“Don’t be sssilly. There’s only one lady in this house and it certainly isn’t me. What are you about then?”

“I’m off to clean your rooms. I hope you didn’t leave a big mess for me.”

“I tried not to. Would you mind leaving me more towels?”

“Of course, My Lady,” she said with a curtsey and a wink.

Esther continued down the hallway, hissing happily, which might not have been such a good thing on the balance. She turned to start down the sweeping staircase and came face to face with Finley, the underbutler. Almost running into her hissing snout apparently startled him so badly that he dropped the silver tray loaded with the morning post, and leaned precariously backwards. He made an “eeep” sound when she grabbed him by the collar, but at least he didn’t topple down the stairs.

“Kafira! That was close,” said Esther, as she steadied him on the step below her. “Are you all right?”

“Nothing a couple of liver pills won’t fix,” he said, bending down to pick up the dropped letters.

“If you’re sure then,” said Esther continuing down the stairs. At the foot of the staircase, she turned back around to see him still watching her. Esther gave him a little wave and, turning right and then right again, entered the dining room.

Two women, both in their early twenties, sat at the immense table, enjoying a breakfast feast. Esther sat down across from them. Fodora Epps and Regina Elipton were guests in the house rather than residents, at least nominally. Both had been staying there for almost a month. Besides being members of the aristocracy, and obnoxious twits, they were acquaintances of Lady Iolana’s from University.

“Good morning,” said Esther, taking a serving spoon and adding two slices of bacon, two large pieces of black pudding, and one basted egg to her plate. “Would you pass the ssscones, please?”

“Imagine letting that thing eat at the table,” said Fodora, looking from between the brunette ringlets that framed her face and down her long nose.

“Where is your owner?” asked Regina, a blonde with big eyes but no appreciable chin.

“I don’t know where Lady Iolana is,” said Esther, taking a bite of black pudding. “Ssso no ssscones then?”

Fodora pushed the plate of scones three inches toward the lizzie. Esther had to stand up to reach them. Taking a scone in one hand, she picked up the dish of lemon curd in the other and sat back down.

“I am ssso happy that you two are staying,” she said. “It would pain me if your families’ current financial sssituations forced you to live on the ssstreets.”

“My family is richer than yours,” snarled Regina, forgetting for a moment to whom she was speaking.

She had either forgotten or never bothered to commit to memory the fact that Esther had been adopted by Iolana Staff at a very early age. She had no proper lizzie family, and among the lizzies, even village chieftains would have been poor compared to the Eliptons of Brech. On the other hand, if one considered her part of the Dechantagne-Staff family, as Iolana did, there was no question that the Eliptons would have suffered in any comparison of wealth.

Astrid kicked her legs as hard as she could, shooting through the water over Swen’s Atoll. The grey monster shot up from behind and passed her like a bullet, only to roll over and propel itself directly toward her. At the last moment, it rose just enough to pass above her without touching. Seeing him from the surface, it was difficult to tell just how big Alister was, but seen from here beneath the waves, he was huge—over ten feet long and weighing about a thousand pounds.

“Alister play. Alister play,” the device in Astrid’s hands translated the dolphin’s signals.

From twenty feet to Astrid’s left, came another sound. Alister’s partner called out to him.

“Alister. Alister”

Astrid didn’t know for sure, but she suspected that John was trying to get Alister to pay him some attention, rather than lavishing it on the surface-dweller. Five consecutive days of swimming with him had certainly given Astrid the impression that Alister enjoyed her company. She couldn’t say the same about his companion.

She dove down and flipped over, swimming in the reverse of the direction she had been going. As she approached where the boat was anchored, she saw Penelope and two female dolphins playing with the scarf. Then she saw Adeline, who was signaling to return to the surface. Astrid followed her until both their heads popped above the waves. The girl inventor was surprised to find it darker than it had been when she had submerged.

“We’ve got to go in,” said Adeline. “The clouds have rolled in and the wind is picking up.”

“Okay,” Astrid replied. “Let me get Penelope.”

Pushing the regulator back in her mouth, Astrid dove down to where her aunt was floating, tapping her on the shoulder. When Penelope looked, she signaled to head for the surface. When their heads reached the air, they could see that the ocean was already becoming choppy. They quickly climbed into the boat.

“Were we expecting weather?” asked Penelope.

“It’s Hurricane Diego,” said Eleanor. “It was supposed to be far north of us, but it’s turned our way.”

She pulled up the anchor and then took her place behind the wheel, starting up the engine and steering toward Dolphin Island. The dolphins swam along behind them for a while, riding the wake, but then disappeared.

“That was great fun,” said Astrid. “I can’t believe that Alister is saying whole sentences—well, at least a two word sentence.”

“I think our translation is problematic,” said Adeline. “The dolphins use gestures and other signals, but I think they should be saying more. I think we are only getting a little slice of what they could say to us.”

By the time the boat was cruising into the lagoon, the waves of the open ocean were five feet or more.

They pulled the boat as far onto the sand as they could and tied it to not one, but three trees. Then they hurried inside the little house.

Eleanor turned on the radio and dialed into the weather.

“I’m going to pull up the storm on the Internet,” said Astrid.

“I’m going to puke,” said Penelope.

She staggered to the front door and stepped outside. The others could hear a retching sound. Astrid stepped out to make sure that she was all right and found the sky so dark she could have been forgiven for thinking it was night. The wind was so strong that it pushed her two steps to the left. Steadying herself, she stepped over to where Penelope knelt in the sand and bent down over her.

“Are you okay, Aunt Penelope?”

Her aunt arched her back and heaved again in reply. Astrid pulled her aunt’s black hair back to keep it out of the pool of vomit in the sand.

“I think I’m going to be turned inside out,” gasped Penelope at last.   “I haven’t felt this bad since the after party at the Grammy’s.”

“What were you doing at the Grammy’s?”

“Getting sick. That’s really all you need to know. Well, I think I’m done.”

She began struggling to her feet. Astrid helped pull her up and then threw her shoulder under the elder Maxxim’s. She led the way back inside and into the office, where Penelope crawled into her sleeping bag.

“Here, Penelope, drink this,” said Océane, stepping into the room with a glass of amber liquid.

“What is it?” came the croaked reply.

“It’s ginger ale. It will settle your stomach. We keep it on hand because Eleanor gets seasick too.”

“Is she sick now too?” wondered Astrid.

Océane nodded. “You should drink some too, Astrid.”

“I’m not seasick.”

“Not yet.”

“I need something stronger,” said Penelope. “I think I need to be put in a medically-induced coma.”

“I’m sorry,” said Océane. “I’m afraid we don’t even have motion sickness pills.”

The very eastern edge of Port Dechantagne, just south of Zaeritown, was dominated by many groups of small housing developments constructed by BB&C and other firms who wanted to take advantage of the city’s growth. Most of these consisted of a score or so of small cottages situated around a little park. The area quickly became the most sought after real estate for Birmisia Colony’s burgeoning middle class—those who could afford better than an apartment in the brownstones near Lizzietown, but who were nowhere near affluent enough for the great mansions and estates near the northern central part of town. The main thoroughfare through neighborhood was Victory Boulevard. It was a four lane red brick-paved street, lined on either side with gas streetlamps, and with a broad grassy median that accommodated side-by-side trolley tracks. The west end of Victory Boulevard ended at Victory Park and in the east it, along with its trolley line, extended two hundred yards past the last group of houses. From there it turned into a single lane, winding gravel road that led some eleven miles to the small village of Villa Cochon.

Turning south from Victory on Ghiosa Way led one through one of these little neighborhoods. Five houses sat on the left and three on the right, and then there was a turn west on Dante Street. Around the corner was the park with swings, park benches, and a pond, frequented by shore birds from the ocean several miles to the north. Ghiosa Way itself, ended with a wood fence as a barricade. Though beyond it, the street might some day continue, for now, it was remarkably dense woodland just a dozen feet away. The last house on the left side of the little street, right next where it ended, was a small yellow cottage, with a white railing and posts on the front porch, a white-framed window just left of the white front door, and a similar window looking down from the attic between the eaves. The cobblestone pathway leading up to the front steps was lined with large ferns of the type commonly found in the area, and the yard was filled with several pines and a maple that had escaped the fate of those that had been cut to make room for the comfy little domicile.

Near the back right corner of the little cottage’s yard, about halfway between the house and the nearest trees, was a large barrel in which trash was burned once or twice a week. Though the refuse did not include foodstuffs, it did sometimes contain newsprint that had once wrapped a purchase from the butcher or the fishmonger. It was these smells that sometimes drew animals from the forest to the yard, as it did on this particular day. The animals in question were three velociraptors. They were two and a half feet tall and five feet from the tip of their many-toothed snouts to the ends of their tails. Hairy feathers covered their bodies—yellow near their small arms and green everywhere else, but for a black band around their necks and a black tuft at the ends of their tails. Easily mistaken for a more benign bird from a distance, those familiar with them were wary because of the teeth and clawed hands, but mostly because of their feet, each of which had a three-inch claw curving upward, used to disembowel prey.

One of the velociraptors jumped up onto the edge of the barrel and looked down inside, trying to discover something edible. Before it could learn whether any such thing existed, it was knocked off by another, which then let out a squawk and promptly fell inside. All three began a horrendous cacophony of shrieks and cries, even after the most adventurous of the three had found his way back out and onto the ground. Suddenly the side door of the house burst open and a woman ran out swinging a broom and shouting her own shrieks and cries.

“Get out of here, you horrid beasts!” She made every effort to swat them, but the velociraptors easily evaded her and went running back into the woods.

“I’ve told you before not to do that!” shouted a tall red-haired man, running around the side of the house.

“They’ll make a mess,” she replied.

“Better they make a mess than they injure you, or worse.” He stopped in front of her, looked down into her bright blue eyes, and then kissed her on the lips. “I don’t want to lose you.”

She smiled, and reached up to run her fingers along the line of his square jaw.

“How did I ever get so lucky, Mr. Baxter?”

“I’m sure most would say that I’m the lucky one, Mrs. Baxter.”

“Come inside. I have been slaving all day to have your luncheon ready.”

She took him by the hand and led him into the house. Just inside was the small dining room. Painted yellow with green trim, it was as cozy as one would have expected, having seen the outside of the home. All of the furniture was new and of the highest quality, manufactured locally in Birmisia. There was a flatware hutch, displaying behind the glass doors, a collection of beautiful porcelain dishes, a small table with two chairs, and an occasional table upon which sat two framed pictures.

She pulled out a chair and waved for him to sit.

“Your seat, Monsieur.”

He sat and pulled her into his lap.

“If you’re playing at being a Mirsannan, shouldn’t you be dressed like one?” he asked. “Their women usually wear these gauzy gowns that one can practically see right through.”

“You, sir, are very naughty.”

He admired her very Brech appearance.   She wore a pretty white pinstriped day dress, trimmed with white lace and bows. She wasn’t wearing the matching hat and her collar-length dark brown hair was parted on the side and combed over with only a few curls in the back.