The manor still ordered grain and flour, and his sons still delivered it. It was paid for on time. That was all he cared about.Or it had been until he...found out the truth of things.As a regular and ardent member of the church, he had been among the first to welcome Vicar Jameson to his new parish. And he was one of the first to listen, in horror, as the vicar whispered of what he had seen in the garden at Farnsworth Manor.His dear, beloved, pure little Sally had been soiled, possibly even tied. "Do not call me Platy! I am Lord Platicore."Trace held her breath, waiting to see if he'd snap. "Most people givethanks when they are given a gift."For a moment, Platicore looked like he might snap. Instead, Platicoreopened a fold on his armor's chest, opened the bottle and poured some ofthe green liquid in. Trace let out a sigh of relief. He was in a goodmood. Numbers and letters in a foreign language flashed over his helmet.He nodded. "Well, it is at least not poison."Trace raised an eyebrow.. More

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