“Yes,” I agreed, peering through the net curtains onto the street directly outside her window.“Are you enjoying the cake?”“It’s delicious....Thank you.” I picked a crumb from the corner of my mouth. “Did you make it?”“Yes. I take pleasure from baking, even though my hands struggle with the mixing. It’s the arthritis you know.”I smiled sympathy.“I haven’t liked to say so before my dear, at least not outside in the street, but now we’re in the privacy of my lounge and there’s just the two of us.”. Piggidigi released a soft chuckle as he drank, eyes watching the goblet all the way back to the table before twitching back to Yelka."You're weary of face." Piggidigi finally spoke, her words just as twisted by her strange accent as usual. "Why?"Yelka breathed a heavy sigh, putting his shoulders into the effort."My own father doesn't trust my judgement." He answered, squeezing and releasing the handle of the goblet between his fingers over and over. " ... The man is older than the mountains. More

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