Phyla watched from her window as the caravan slowly made a start on its journey, having decided the garden could wait. She was worried for her daughter, wondering if Lord Michon had lost his senses sending her out like this. She remembered the total annihilation of the small shire to the west and the smell of burning flesh haunted her for weeks afterward. She did not know who Lord Michon’s father had angered, but they struck with a vengeance. Such attacks on shires were rare as the barbarians stayed mainly to their side of the mountains. All had been peaceful in the many years since, and she had performed her husband’s wish in giving Kellina the pendant. She knew full well what it signified, for her husband had worn it and she had seen him transform into the magnificent gold dragon that symbolized his right to rule this world. The pendant meant Kellina was the rightful heir to the throne.
When the last of the caravan had gone, she turned back to her chores and the garden in the back of her little house. It was small, yes, but it suited her, and she was grateful to Lord Michon for a place to call her own. And for the privilege of watching over Kellina even after she was a submissive in the Lord’s keep – not all parents were so fortunate, with some Lords actually having them put to death to remove all ties to the submissive’s past. She knew Lord Phalon, Michon’s older brother, had done so and she was eternally grateful that the gods had seen fit to have Michon rule the shire instead.
She worked her way through the small cottage, tidying as she went. Not that there was that much to tidy – her days of service to Lord Michon’s family had turned her into a meticulous housekeeper. The house consisted of three rooms, a small living area, a bedroom, and a kitchen. Her bathing room was behind the main cottage in a separate enclosure, which she loved for it allowed her a small piece of the luxuries she had known in Cainnait. No servants, of course, to heat and carry water, but that was a small price and it made the luxury so much more when she would at last climb into the heated, scented water.
Having reached the garden, she set to work trimming overgrowth, pulling the undesirable plants, and harvesting some herbs for her tea later. Lined the stone path running between raised beds of herbs and vegetables. She had chosen ones that bloomed year round rather than only in the spring, and was grateful that as yet the seasonal frosts had not nipped at the blooms. At one point, she stood up to stretch and blinked at what she saw, or thought she saw. Far off in the distance, to the west, she caught a glimpse of something black moving against the early morning sky. Large, it had to be, for it was some distance and she could still see it somewhat clearly. It had to be a dragon, but she had never heard of a black one.
