“What a gut you must have to be able to digest bone,” he mused. “No wonder you’re so indiscriminating in what you eat.”

Gaja hums thoughtfully, leading Nam through the house to the back door leading to their host’s gardens. Of course, there’s not much to see at night (and finding one’s way through the maze of hedges will lead to invading on the host’s very private moment, a sure way to break the rules of hospitality the Fae cling to so dearly).

Thus, they have to settle for enjoying the topiaries and please aesthetics of the garden’s arrangements. Oh, and of course the scent of the flowers still wafting through the air. The lanterns hung throughout, providing enough to light to allow Iseul’s guests to wander without worry of crushing his precious plants.

“What are those flowers that grow by your river, Nam?”