. nothing till I woke up in the hospital. My wife was looking down at me and, even though she was crying, I could tell she was pissed."Are you going t... sell that damn bike now? I knew something like this was going to happen!" she yelled.The fact that it wasn't my fault didn't matter. The fact that I wouldn't have avoided the accident by being in a car didn't matter. The fact that I was in a hospital bed with a phenominal headache didn't matter. She was pissed and the only thing that mattered. Hesitantly, she allowed Lord Tristian to pour her a chalice of red wine, the color indescribably deep and more crimson than the fire. It was sweet, slightly tart at the finish, but complimented the bread and cheese nicely. It took every shred of her manners not to cram everything she saw into her mouth at once - and if she had, there still would have been food left over. Two loaves of bread, still steaming from the ovens, were sliced carefully and covered with a napkin to keep them warm. Tiny. More

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