[Pivli]

Violet sat sipping the small mug of cider Ruby had left for her. Her sharp, dark eyes darted over the rim at the three men with whom she and the two girls now sat.

The two cousins across the table from her seemed rather nice, though awkward a bit as young men just coming of age (or so she supposed) were likely to be. They were, in her mind, ‘promising prospects’ and Chubbs, to boot, a solid family. ‘Need a bit more growing on the vine,’ she thought to herself, ‘before they’re worth the plucking.’

Her eyes flicked left to the table’s host – Fordogrim Chubb. He had just finished talking about the evening’s festivities and his ales and lagers, and had managed to get in a leading comment concerning the dancing there was sure to be. Her thoughts applauded the fact he had a certain pride in his handiwork. ‘Sign of a man’ll go far in his business,’ she thought. But her tongue quietly tsk-tsk’d the way he looked at the lasses. He was sizing them up as he might baskets of barley and hops offered for his brewing.

Violet’s gaze darted to Lilly and Rose. ‘Now, what’s in their minds?’ she wondered, trying to read their faces.