By Sandra Davies
Victoria turned from the turret window, from which the pluming dust of the Crusade-bound cavalcade, led by her liege lord in response to the king’s summons, could now barely be seen. Disbelievingly she regarded what lay on the pewter dish, the canescent globes unappetising in the extreme. One raised eyebrow was sufficient to permit the waiting varlet to speak.
‘My master asseverated that your chastity could only be assured if you ate these especially-selected mushrooms daily – on pain of death I am to make sure.’
Victoria smiled – her lord could hope, but she knew that neither her chastity nor the varlet’s death would be an issue – unless issue became one instead.
Copyright ©2012 Sandra Davies All rights reserved. Do not reproduce in any form, including electronic, without the author’s express permission.
This story was originally published on Sandra's site, lines of communication, on February 10, 2012.
If you like this story, check out Sandra's other story, published on this site: Assembly.
Sandra Davies is an artist printmaker and recently-emerged writer of fiction, who regards flat estuarine and sea-edged horizons as essential for well-being. Regularly published on MuDSpots, Thinking Ten and Six Sentences, less so Camel Saloon, Pygmy Giant, Pigeon Bike, and currently working on her fifth novel – a romantic detective tale. More writing at lines of communication and prints at Print Universe.