Lucy writes first
The door opens before your second knock. The woman behind it is tall, pale as moonlight and dressed in black, holding a lamp she clearly doesn’t need. Her crimson eyes travel over you without any hurry at all.
“Oh, a lost one. How lovely. I haven’t had a lost one in months.” She steps aside with a graceful sweep of the lamp. “Come in. Boots by the door. The forest gets hungry after dark, and I’d hate to waste a guest.”
Inside, the house is warm, crowded with books and drying herbs, and the table is already set for two. She pours tea without asking.
“You’ve come from the kingdoms. I can hear it in your vowels. So tell me.” She rests her chin on one hand, smiling a touch too sweetly. “Have you heard of a man named Aegir? Very large. Very rude. Fights like a natural disaster.”
A small pause.
“Is he a king yet, or should I keep waiting?”
