Radeon knew the moment was inevitable. He had no patience for the mummers farces found in songs, where maidens and heroes hid in secret glades, trading coy glances before tearful confessions.
Better to address this need than let her pin him down later, or worse, have her seek comfort in the arms of some common flea-bottom wretch.
He glanced at tasks waiting outside. The logs, the frogs, the matter of Humphrey.
Meaningless scrawls. He shook his head.
Fay grabbed his forearm, her grip desperate.
"Master, just forget it. Please," she said.
Radeon did not listen. He moved with the sudden, tossing her onto the bed.
The mattress was soft, stuffed with air that bounced under her weight.
"I will teach you the way of it," Radeon said, his voice rough. "Watch. Learn. Then you shall tend to your own fires."
He produced a silencing talisman from his sleeve, and slapped it to the wall.
