MELITA
Melita shrugged too – pondering over how mostly anyone could call themselves royalty once they got into the position. One only had to look at Maeve and Aurelia – fashioning themselves as Queens rather than Governors. Titles, sometimes, and little else. Not expecting him to follow along, but amused by it all the same, the honeybee strove to catch up, winding along the canals in her effervescent, energetic fervor, snatching up Fangorn so he was left grumbling in her arms, vines snaking around. Wrinkling her nose at the notions of “not cooking” (because some meat needed to be just that), she became all the more distracted by defining pastries. “Well, they’re dough of flour, shortening, and water, and then used as a base for all sorts of baked dishes, like pies, croissants, fillings…” Her eyes darted to a nearby stand, pointing towards the aforementioned delights, the aroma of freshly baked chocolate-glazed somethings drifting along the canals. “Do you want to try some? I’m getting treats for Ludo and the spirits anyway.”
This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
