Hera looks with a little sadness at the poor potato that is drowned in an ocean of peas. Not too inspired by these things that in h.e.l.l we have fun throwing at the heads of earthlings, she puts one on the back of her thumb and uses her index finger as a slingshot.Cliff, focused on his plate, doesn"t guess that right now he is the target of a vicious attack in preparation. He plunges his spoon into his soup plate, lifts it up to his lips, and at that moment the criminal launches her sneak attack.
"Ugh."
Cliff"s spoonful of vegetables falls to the ground and a little boy with a red eye turns toward a very pretty little blonde girl who swallows his food wisely.
"Cliff, you"re the oldest, so will you stop fooling around? Look at Hera! Isn"t she a lovely child?"
Cliff caresses his sore eye and even though he"d like to scold this annoying little girl, he refrains for two reasons.
The first is his mother. For some reason that Cliff can"t understand, his mother adores Hera almost as much as a deity and he, well, since the arrival of this plague, he just has the right to remain silent.
The second: Hera. Once this mud golem came out of the bathroom, when Cliff saw this little blond angel, he couldn"t stop his cheeks from blushing. Hera is so pretty, he can"t even look at her...
"Say Helene, why are there only vegetables on our plates? Did you give all the meat to the dogs?"
... So pretty but so silly. Thinks Cliff, shaking his head. Both embarra.s.sed for his mother and a little sad, he looks at his mother, whose smile is as beautiful as ever. His mother wipes her mouth, stretches out her arm and grabs Hera"s little hand.
"My darling, we don"t have dogs, but we have three rabbits that we feed daily and when they are well fattened, we"ll eat them. Yummy!!!"
Hearing Helene, Hera"s eyes move slowly towards her plate of food. Quickly, she understands the dishonest intentions of this family of two and in a panic, she tries to free her little hand. How could she forget that people here like to fatten up what they want to eat?
"Hahaha, I"m sure I know what that idiot"s thinking. Hahaha, she"s too stupid."
Very angry at this behaviour unworthy of a man, Helene casts a murderous glance at her son, but in front of the little girl whose eyes are wide open and who is trembling, she also has to restrain herself so as not to laugh.
"But no, darling, you"re not going to end up on our plate. Look at you, there"s not even enough meat on that little body to make a pate. Come on, I"ll show you where you"re going to sleep."
…
Year 1213, 5th month, 23rd day, Kingdom of Antomea - City with undetermined name - Mid-morning
In a street crowded with stalls, Hera and Helene placed a large wooden plank on two trestles on which they spread dozens of crayfish on one side and vegetables on the other. The town where Helen made a habit of selling her products must be the size of Griven, but unlike Griven which is full of adventurers, here Hera has not seen any of them yet.
To come to this town, Helene herself pulled a cart. Of course, Hera offered her help, saying that a little exercise would make Stincky tiger lose weight, but according to Helene, cats are forbidden in the markets.
Once again, confirming the uselessness of this tuft of hair, angry but too busy to take care of it herself, Hera ordered her pet to go roll in the mud until it was black.
The market is a lot of fun. Every once in a while, Hera makes a sale on her own, yet when she tries to put the coins in her purse, Helene shakes her head. According to Hera, Helene is a pretty woman but if she doesn"t have a husband, it must be because she is a stingy.
"Hera, especially if the coach surrounded by soldiers approaching stops near us, you keep your adorable little mouth shut. Do you understand, my angel?"
Hera looks at the handsome carriage even more handsome that than of head of the town of Griven, but too busy selling crayfish to try to put all the money in her purse, she nods her head without worrying too much.
…
In her brand new carriage, which she has ordered from the capital, Baroness Ferfield, positioned her nose upwards.
(Sniffs, sniffs) The smell is a bit sour, but she likes that kind of rough scent. She pulls her curtain of burgundy satin sewn with fine gold threads and pa.s.ses her fat head through the window of her carriage.
"Soldiers, stop in front of that crawfish stall."
The four soldiers, mounted on high horses, nod their heads simultaneously. Like one, they move to their left, and to clear the way, they brandish their long swords to ward off the troublemakers that has taken position in front of the stall from which emanates a smell that they estimate, quite strong.
When Helene sees the fat woman in a pink dress, much too much make-up, getting out of the carriage, she can"t help but be worried. This woman is notorious for her nastiness. She"s bossy, jealous and can"t stand to be contradicted. Feeling her heart racing as she watches the little blonde head dancing, Helene sighs.
"Hera, these two copper coins will be for you if you manage to stay still and keep your little mouth shut."
To better smell the scent she so enjoys, Baroness Ferfield stops right in front of the stall. She bends over, and with the aid of her silk fan, she directs the smell of sh.e.l.lfish toward her nose.
"I"m going to take two dozen of these tantalizing little beasts."
She mustn"t waste a second to serve this woman, for next to her, the little girl is already holding her stomach. If for the moment Hera manages to keep her nasty little mouth shut, Helene knows it won"t last. Without wasting another second, she throws 24 crayfish into a basket woven with straw, then holds it out to the fat woman.
"It will be 48 copper coins, Baroness."
Paying for what she buys is not the Baroness"s habit, so, as she grabs the handle of the little basket, she looks at the woman she hadn"t paid any attention to until then. When she sees this beautiful blonde woman with blue eyes, whose generous b.r.e.a.s.t.s must attract the gaze of all men, crazy with jealousy, she decides to make trouble for her.
"Hmmm, these crayfish only inspire me with relative confidence. (Sniffs, sniffs) Yeah, I"d even say they don"t look very fresh to me."
"How about you, old goat, do you think you look fresh?"