Epilogue
Day seven hundred and sixty-one
Dear Diary,
This is it. The last entry I’ll make in this book.
But only because it’s the last page and I need a new one, and because my days are quite busy as of late.
Last month at the harvest festival I put my favorite recipe of pomegranate cranberry jam into the fair, and—get this—it won the grand champion blue ribbon.
Not only that, but half the grandmothers in the village have asked for tips, and they won’t leave me alone about it.
Brim says I must’ve been a matronly woman with the bad habit of feeding goat cheese to her goats in a past life.
I don’t see an issue with that. Beni, Minny, and Jak eat it like it’s catnip, and this matronly woman in me is happy when they’re happy.
I’ve been teaching Hugh how to fight. He actually already knows the basics, which upon retrospect means he really was hiding in battle.
I pulled him aside and told him a secret—that there is more to warfare than just war.
After that I introduced him to the blacksmith, and he’s already made numerous types of weaponry.
(Note to self: explain to him why a bow that fires sword-arrows won’t work.)
Rapunzo is adapting to life on the ground.
He’ll occasionally kiss it, but Tad and Drezella are always quick to put a stop to that.
Toothless Pete finds it quite humorous, however, and has already written five books of songs to lyricize the man’s idiosyncrasies.
One of the songs lists all 124 of Rapunzo’s stuffed animals from his stuffed animal collection.
(Also note to self: don’t anger the man-child.
Owain mocked him once for it, and I had to resurrect the idiot minutes later.
Death by stuffed bear looks like an unpleasant way to die.)
I got a letter that Reginald and his army are looking to set up a new rest camp along the coast, and he’s thinking of putting it on the border of Elmswood Forest. It’ll be nice having a mercenary army at our disposal should any enemies across the seas come to pillage Ruthven.
And I do miss having a friend from back in the day around—though he did send a friendship necklace with an ear attached. Said he had the other ear.
He’s an odd one.
Oh—have to go now. Bronwen wanted to show me how well the chickpeas in her garden have been growing.
Apparently she’s got quite the green thumb.
I’m impressed actually, and grateful, because she lets me use her fruit for my jams. I’ve been thinking of sharing my shop idea of Damn Good Jam Goods with her.
If she likes it, maybe I’ll see if she wants to become a co-owner, and maybe she could leave her lipstick marks atop the lids for branding purposes.
Or maybe I’ll just keep those kisses for myself.
Well. I suppose now’s as fine a time as any to end here. I’ve got some goods to share.
Signing off for now,
Morfran, Dark Lord Reformed