Leo rose early and cooked breakfast for himself and his father. He improved their usual porridge with milk, butter, and blackberries. The porridge they ate most mornings was bland and quickly prepared.

Sometimes, he only had the time to grab a hunk of bread or a couple of oat cakes before heading into the forge.

"Good morning," Hephaestus greeted him as he hobbled over to the table, aided by his crutch.
Leo removed a kettle of hot water for tea from the stove. He poured the water into a tea pot along with two spoonfuls of dried tea leaves and let the mixture steep for a few minutes. While the tea steeped, Leo and Hephaestus washed down their porridge with a pint of ale.
A leisurely breakfast on a day that was not Sunday was a rare treat but there would not be any work that day.
"I heard there's going to be a Bengal tiger at the fair today," Leo informed his father. "I've never seen a beast before. It should be quite a sight."
"Be careful, though," Hephaestus warned. "When I was a young man, a young lady was mauled to death by a tiger after she kept poking it with a sharp stick."
"Then I won't poke it with a sharp stick."
By October, the harvest had been brought in and the agricultural year was coming to an end. This was the time for the county to gather together to buy and sell their wares and gawk at curiosities from the outside world.
Stalls were set up in the Skye-on-Styx village square along with pens for the animals who were to be bought and sold and judged against one another.

The stalls displayed the wares of traveling peddlers: leather goods and iron tools for the men; tin and copper pots and pans, calicos and muslins, and glass, paste, and jet baubles for the women. A caravan of traveling-folk was passing through Skye-on-Styx.

A/N "traveling-folk" is a term used to describe the Romani people. I was going to use the more common and period appropriate term "gypsy" but was hesitant because that is considered a slur against the Romani people. Also traveling-folk incorporates the whole population of itinerant peddlers and laborers who would have roamed the English country-side.

Some of them entertained the crowd by playing music or dancing for them. Others sold good luck charms and cure-alls. One old beldame was making a small fortune from all the village girls who wished to know the identity of their future husbands.
Leo spotted Miss Levesque leaving the old beldame's stall with two other girls. One was the tall, pale blonde he had seen with Miss Levesque at church: a willowy, languid, ethereal looking beauty with a long, slender neck which seemed ready to snap under the weight of her mass of golden curls. This gave her the appearance of a wilting, white flower. She shaded her porcelain complexion with a frilly white parasol and chatted with her two friends in a breathy, exhausted sounding yawn of a voice.

Leo could not get a good look at Miss Levesque's other companion. She twirled her pink sunshade and walked over to look at rabbits who were being judged as to which was the finest specimen.

Miss Levesque and her blonde friend walked over to the pen which held the Bengal tiger. It was larger than Leo expected. Leo was told that tigers were something like cats, so he imagined they were smaller. The tiger lay stretched out in the grass, surveying its admirers with a bored, haughty expression. It had a glossy orange and black striped pelt and a strong, sleek body.
Whoever it's keeper was took good care of it.

Anyone who got too close was warned off with a loud roar which showed that captivity had not broken the noble beast's ferocious spirit.
The roar made Miss Levesque jump and lean against her blonde friend.
Poor, sweet darling, Leo thought.
They moved on to a booth, one of Leo's own construction, selling Juniper Underwood's famous tarts and jams. Leo followed them, using the pretext of chatting with his friend and neighbor.
"What types of tarts do you have today?" he asked Juniper.
"Apple," she replied. "Plum, and pear."
"Mrs. Underwood's apple tarts are worthy of the King himself," he told the two girls. "And at thruppence a piece, quite the bargain."
The girls each bought an apple tart and quickly gobbled them up.
"You were right, Sir," the blonde piped in. "These are divine. Oh, I remember you. You're Miss Levesque's blacksmith friend."

"Hello, Mr. Valdez," Miss Levesque shyly cut in. "You know the lady who made these wonderful tarts?"
"Mrs. Underwood and her husband are neighbors of mine," Leo explained. "My father and I frequently enjoy their hospitality, and her cooking."
"Thank you for the endorsement, Leo," Juniper giggle. "And thank you for building this booth for me."
A white canvas tent held up by wooden poles and beams shaded three tables laden with pies, tarts, jars of jam, jelly, preserves, and pickles, and baskets of fresh fruits and vegetables. Bunches of dried herbs and flowers hung from the beams.
Leo smiled at his handy work.
"I think it's the best booth here," Miss Levesque added.
"It's the Notre Dame Cathedral of fair booths," the blonde friend began. "We're putting on a home theatrical of A Midsummer Night's Dream at Skye Castle. I'm designing the sets and Miss Levesque will paint them but we need someone to build them."
"I would be honored Miss..."
"Miss Chase."
"Let is know when you're available and we'll send for you."
"Sundays after church will do."
"Perfect. I looked forward to working with you, Mr. Valdez."
Leo swept the young ladies a bow before they left to watch the rabbit show.
"Did you agree to build their sets just so you could butter up little Miss Levesque?" Juniper asked him with a raised eyebrow.
"What do you mean?" Leo replied.
"I saw you staring at her; you were practically drooling."
"I was not." Leo quickly wiped the side of his mouth with his sleeve.

Lord Skye had entered a bluish-grey Flemish Giant named Hercules into the rabbit show.

Hercules took home the blue ribbon for finest coney. Although Hercules was a fine specimen, Leo imagined that giving awards to the Olympus family was standard protocol in such contests. Miss Levesque's friend with the pink sunshade walked up to Lord Skye and took his arm. He attached the blue ribbon to this girl's bonnet.
"So I'm the prize winning rabbit then," she giggled.
"Ma belle lapine," he took her hand and kissed it.
So this must be Miss McLean, the young lady who His Lordship was courting. People bowed and tipped their hats to the couple as they walked by, as if Miss McLean were already their future duchess.
"Are you going to the boxing match?" Juniper asked Leo.
"I don't know, maybe," Leo replied.
"Grover isn't going. He doesn't approve of all the drunkenness and violence that goes with them."
Boxing matches took place at the county line since they were technically illegal, though His Grace, the Duke, was known to attend them and provide enough ale and spit-roasted suckling pigs for everyone there to eat and drink their fill.

They were usually occasions filled with gambling, intoxication, and lewdness- all things good Wesleyans like the Underwoods were supposed to shun. Men from all ranks of society and a few shameless harlots and hoydens attended. The women ogled shirtless and bloody men and immodestly cheered on the ones they fancied. Most of the fighting which broke out was outside of the boxing ring. Chris Rodriguez, the village postmaster, was nearly beaten to death at one match but this tragedy had a happy ending. Rodriguez was brought home and nursed back to health by Miss LaRue. Six months later, they were wed.
"Come to think about it," Leo continued. "I think I'll go right home after the fair."
"It makes my heart glad to see you avoid such wickedness," Juniper gushed. "But I'm afraid that more temptation will me thrown your way."
"Do you mean, Miss Levesque?"
"She's a fine lady whose's staying at Skye Castle. She's so high above you and if you try to woo her, you'll only set yourself up to get your heart broken."

Leo stopped by the village bookshop on his way home and purchased a copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream. He prepared a quick lunch of bread, cheese, cold meats, and pickles to eat while he cooked dinner for himself and his father.

The dishes which took the longest to make were the boiled tripe and onions and the suet pudding.

While the oven was hot, he put in the potatoes to bake and the beefsteaks to broil in a shallow pan of water.

The gravy would be the quickest to make.

During the downtime he had between preparing each dish, he sat down to read his new book.
His favorite character in the play was the mischievous spite, Puck, with Bottom, the weaver who is turned into a donkey, as a close second. They were his favorites because they were they funniest and seemed to have the best lines.
"On the ground," Leo read aloud, putting a piece of smoke cheese in his mouth, followed by a slice of buttered bread.

"Sleep sound: I'll apply, to your eye, gentle lover remedy. When thou wakest, thou takest true delight in the sight of thy former lady's eye; and the country proverb know, that every man should take his own, in your waking shall be shown: Jack shall have Jill; nought shall go ill; the man shall have his mare again, and all shall be well."