Edward walked into the garden. He sniffed the air and frowned.
It was a normal early spring day. The grass had completed that shift from dead brown to lively green and the first buds were on the point of bursting into leaf.
The war was finally over. The soldiers had stood down, and she had made a peace offering. He had accepted.
Not a ripple troubled the water of the mill pond. The gentle sound of grazing sheep was almost enough to lull him into a nap.
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