"Bread - like real love - took time, cultivation, strong loving hands and patience. It lived, rising and growing to fruition only under the most perfect circumstances." - Melissa Hill

Ardam 1390
Alachna City, ArBrae Forest

"So tell me again what you said to him?" My laughing lifts off, echoeing through the roofless room. For a moment I clutch my stomach, hoping my insides won't fall out from this. Taking a slow breath, I scrape the pieces of mango that I already cut into cubes into the wooden bowl. Unfortunately, I struggle to control my giggling, and another hopeless fit commences as Gwenore answers.

"I told him that he should rather spend his time finding a solution to his unfavourable personality than to plot to displace the most competent king we have ever seen." Her shoulders lift in a shrug, a look of complete innocence painted on her face. She wriggles her slightly large, lightly crooked nose before she also falls victim to laughter.

I try to imagine the look on Ludel Strongwind's face, certain that it might have looked like a combination of beardung and pine needles. "I wish I could have seen it!" After peeling a banana, I add its diced cubes to the salad.

Gwen cleans her hands with a small cloth, and dries them on her crispy white apron. Her fingertips gently come to a rest on my temples. I barely feel the shift from my own thoughts to hers as an image of Ludel pops into my mind.

His face is redder than forest fire, with a dark purple vein bulging on his temple. A gutteral spluttering noise, like an animal with a slit throat, escapes him as he turns purple and then white in search of a comeback.

In the background, I can see my father, King Eoghan, hiding his mouth behind his slender hand. His shoulders rumble back and forth, as white knuckles clench around his other hand.

I follow the familiar hand up to my mother's face. The cool fury on her face warns me that tonight's dinner conversation will be dominated by her complain8ng about the meeting.

The image disappears as suddenly as it appeared.

"You have improved!" I exclaim.

She blushes and grabs the bowl with the nuts. "I have been practicing," she says while breaking them open.

The last time Gwen shared a memory with me it was fuzzy and out of focus. The memory she just shared with me was crystal clear with sharp edges.

"On who?" I lean back against the counter.

"Finnchaem Farforest," she says with a deepening blush. "Laelia, please hand me the eggs."

Handing her two eggs from the basket behind me, I bite my lip and smile. "The cute one with the dimples?

"Do you know another Finnchaem Farforest?" She snaps back defensively. "Yes, he is cute," she answers, red a sbeet, and trying very hard not to make eye contact.

"And he has the cutest dimples..."

"We spend a lot of time together. He is the second youngest on the Elder Council, and he's been on it as long as I have. His father died the same year as my mother," she answers before I can ask. "He volunteered."

She breaks the eggs on the edge of the bowl and mixes it into the dough in the bowl.

I smile absentmindedly. I am glad for Gwen if she found another friend, and it sounds as if Finnchaem might be more than a friend to her. Hopefulky she will tell me more when she realises that.

"Two more."

Taking two more eggs from the basket, one falls from my hand just as I hand them to Gwen. Time stops as we watch it roll from the table and fall on the floor. I jump away from the table into the counter as it collides with the floor. The egg does not survive the collision - my shoes neither.

I stare at my shoes. I don't try to hide my disgust. "Egg! Why couldn't it be mud?" I ask in feigned exasperation.

Gwen laughs. She takes a cloth and hands it to me.

As I attempt to wipe it, the white of the egg pulls away and then recoils back to my shoe.

"Step away so I can clean up your mess."

"You sound just like my mother," I lift up my eyebrows.

"Only she would tell you how big of a mess you've made and not offer to clean it up for you."

"True," I settle and step away. "I won't be able to save the shoes. Can you imagine her reaction if I tell her I've murdered another pair?"

"How many pairs this week?"

"This is the fifth, and it is only Wednesday."

Gwen whistles. "You are a shoe killer!"

"That is why I keep on begging to be allowed to walk barefoot, but she doesn't want to give in to my numerous protests and demonstrations."

I take my shoes off and throw them in the corner of her kitchen. I laugh again. "That is the funniest thing I have seen in my life!" I return to the topic of Ludel Strongwind being embarrassed beyond words.

"I knew you would appreciate it," Gwen smiles and laughs with me.

I grow serious. "What else did you discuss?"

"The usual: which towns should pay more tribute, which part of the forest needs help to grow, the situation at the Mountains, the Skados."

Gwen's mother died before she became an adult. She has been on the Elder Council, the ruling body of members from twelve important families, since then. Previously she was not allowed to say anything until she became an adult, but she had to attend the meetings. Now she could participate and speak freely - and Gwenore exercises that freedom freely.

"How are things at the Mountains?" I ask.

My eldest brother Faolan, heir to the throne, is leading the company at the Mountains. The mountains are the border that has been separating my country from our sworn enemy for millennia. Recently though, there have been more reports of Darkelanders being sighted on our side.

"In between good and bad. They struggle to find the leak, and they do not have enough food. We are sending another train in a week."

"Will those taking the train stay?" I ask, a plan already forming in my head. It's been years since Aedan, my twin, and I returned from our mission and I long to leave the forest again.

"They will come back a week after they delivered the food."

"Who will be taking the food?"

"Finnchaem's brother, Tihomir. He became an adult three months ago. It will be the first time he leaves the forest. Marguerin Swiftfoot."

I interrupt her. "She just stepped out of childhood as well?"

"Yes, two months ago. She lives in DorUr."

"She has an older sister the same age as Faolan, Marabel. She is also at the Mountains. I met her years ago."

"Yes, and then Sisse Swiftfoot."

I groan. Sisse is two years older than I am. She is part of the Strongwind family. I met her years ago befire Faolan went to the Mountains. To say that Sisse is a piece of work, is an understatement. She has a mouth as foul as the marshes, a scowl as toxic as fire mountain tears, and a personality as evil as her cousin Elorhim Strongwond.

"Then Elshender, Fynlo and Thrystan. They are the only ones we know. The others are from the other cities."

"Don't you want to go? You have never left the forest," I ask, hoping to tempt her.

She smiles sadly at me. "You have flour on your forehead. " She wipes it off with her sleeve. "I wish I could go, just to know what's on the outside, but to go is not my number one desire. I can't leave. I am one of the Elder Council. If they need to make any decisions, I have to be here. The Council cannot leave the forest, just like married women need to stay to protect the forest."

I squeeze her hand gently.

"You should go. You itch to be outside again," she says, wiping the sadness off her face.

"I do, but now I will feel guilty."

"You should: you still owe me an egg."

I hand her anothet, careful not to let it slip from my hand.

The remainder of the time I spend with Gwen we chit-chat and gossip about topics of no real value. We eat the fruitsalad, while waiting for the bread to bake.

Days I can spend with my best friend are rare. Her responsibilities have multiplied in the past few years and they keep her either in meetings, or in training with my aunt. So, whenever a day like this arises, we make the most of it.

When the suns starts to hint the end of the day, I take my leave and my share of the bread we made.

At home, I encounter the tense atmosphere fueled by my mother's fury, which peaks at the dinner table.

Aylissa continues to rant about Ludel Strongwind and his aspiration to overthrow her, not giving anyone else an opportunity to speak.

I keep quiet and do not point out that the throne is Father's and not hers, as it would earn me even more disfavour.

Aedan and I exchange knowing looks every few seconds, him fighting very hard not to roll his eyes openly.

Eoghan is unusually quiet. Normally father is the egg that binds us, cracking lame jokes and showing earnest interest whenever we say something.

"I cannot believe his nerve! I am his queen! I have never done anything wrong. I have led them loyally. Strongwind will never have my throne!"

Pacing to and fro in the dining room, she only picks at her food whenever she arrives at her end of the table. Her grey dress trails behind her, its swishing on the marble floor working on everyone else's nerves.

Aedan's grip on his fork grows, until it finally slips from his grasp, screeching across his plate. He slowly exhales, and cleches his teeth. Aedan is the most tolerant of us all, but he cannot stand it if people pace.

Knowing that I will only make it worse if I say anything, I wisely refill my bowl with the mushroom soup. I dunk the bread Gwen and I made in the soup, and chew slowly to savour its taste.

"We should make it clear for once and for always that we are the reigning family and not that lowlife, power-hungry family!" The icy edge to her voice chills me to the bone. I

Eoghan puts down his spoon, the sound it makes when placed on his splate echoing through the room. "Aylissa, that is enough," Father says simply and gives her a uncharacteristic thunderous look.

She inhales sharply, words forming on the tip of her tongue, but luckily she closes her mouth and averts her gaze downward. Her chair scrapes across the floor. She fills her bowl with soup, and starts to eat with the poise that begits her.

"Aedan, did you have a productive day?" Eoghan asks when Aylissa settled down.

His face lights up. "Yes, I made great progress." His face falls when he realises that he shouldn't tell us more at the moment, as it would involve mentioning our aunt Idunn, and Aylissa hates Idunn more than the Strongwinds.

"Laelia, have you decided which role you want to fill in the community?"

My eyes meet her azure eyes. "Mother, it will take time. I do not want to make the wrong decision, but I have heard of an opportunity that might help me make my choice."

Aylissa has been pressing me to make a choice since we returned to the forest. Every night she asks me, and every night I give the same answer.

"I would like to accompany the food train to the Mountains," I blurt out before I can change my mind then take a sip of my berry tea so that I don't say anything more I'll regret.

She doesn't answer straightaway, which is a good sign, and runs her fingers through her midnight hair. For the first time I notice a few greying strands at her temples.

"Why do you want to go?" Eoghan asks, his eyes sharpening as he zooms in on me.

"I would like to see it all again, and I miss Faolan." And perhaps I'll again taste the freedom I felt seven years ago when we left the forest for the first time.

Aylissa's silence stretches on, a scowl forming on her forehead.

Father nods his head slowly, his silver crown barely moving in his raven hair. "I give you my blessing, Laelia."

"Thank you so much, dearest Father!" I exclaim, almost jumping out of my seat. The look Aylissa gives me, immediately makes me cringe and look down.

He turns to her, allowing me a glimpse of the cool and immovable king I have only heard about. "Aylissa, I decided that Laelia will accompany the train of food to the mountains. That is final."

Aylissa's face becomes expressionless: "You have spoken my husband, and I accept your judgement, I only request that Aedan accompany Laelia."

My father nods: "Of course, I would not have it any other way. The two are peas in a pod and shouldn't yet be separated."