Chapter 2.53 – The Devil Himself

Note: NSFW-ish, briefly.

At the sound of her father’s voice across the courtyard, we both jumped like we’d been burned, but as I made to pull back, Angeline clamped her thighs tighter around me, locked her ankles behind my back. Her fingers tangled in my hair, she held me firmly in place.

“I didn’t say you could stop, Seth,” she whispered headily. “Don’t you dare stop.”

I could hear John calling again for his dog. His heavy footfall, against the stone pavement outside the building, was getting closer and closer to us.

“He’ll catch us,” I murmured.

She groaned, impassioned. “Let him.”

“He’ll beat me,” I tried to reason with her, with myself, even as I held her tighter, moved into her deeper, catching her breathless sighs in my mouth.

She suddenly whispered, frantically, against my lips, “Remember that I love you, yes?”

Angeline shoved me off her and I rolled on to my side, stunned for a second and wondering what I’d done, before I realised that her father had appeared blessedly, without his gun. He did not look amused to be greeted by the sight of me, on the floor, trousers down, with his pink-cheeked daughter beside me, but then his face was usually unamused.

“Hi Daddy,” Angeline chirped in that sweet voice she never used on me. “You’re awake early.”

“It’s four-thirty, Angeline,” John said and then he turned to look at me as one might survey the contents of an outhouse. “What in Watcher’s name do you think you’re doing, delinquent?!”

I really did try not to be so insouciant where her father was concerned, tried to let the insults slide and portray myself as a suitable partner for his precious princess, but what kind of question was that? “I’m trying to screw your daughter, John. Give us a minute?”

Angeline turned her laugh into an almost convincing gasp of horror and covered her smile with her hand, gazing up at her father with those puppy-dog eyes she’d perfected. She yanked me to my feet.

“Get dressed, Seth,” she snapped. “I’ve told you; the rash’ll go away on its own.”

John did not see the funny side, he never did, but he melted as he looked at her; she could do no wrong.

“Get out of here, Angel. I don’t want you to see this.”

“Please don’t hurt him, Daddy,” she said in her most innocent voice, her lip quivering and her eyes glassy with crocodile tears. “I invited him in. I just feel so very sorry for the lonely wretch. Look at his pitiful face! Even the whores don’t want him!”

“We should’ve let the lunatic hang,” he muttered. “Angeline, leave. Now.”

She ducked out of view, rolling her eyes and mocking her father as soon as she was out of his sight.

John, oblivious to this show behind him, cursed under his breath eyeing me with disgust as I fastened my belt and wondered if I could fit through the tiny window behind me.

“She is too kind for her own good, allowing scum like you a chance. Give me one good reason not to riddle you with bullets,” he snarled.

“You’d have to fetch your gun and that would give me time to run away,” I suggested, helpfully.

John growled at me, foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog. “Have you no shame, Seth?! She’s a good girl! A sweet girl! She does not enjoy your attentions; she pities you! She deserves an honourable man! An honest man!”

“She has one,” I insisted, trying not to laugh at John’s terribly inaccurate description of his own daughter.

“Nothing about you is honourable! Pray, if you make her with child, I will—“

“Allow us to marry?”

I don’t know who those words surprised more. Probably John, who was turning purple in his rage; his hands balled into tight fists at his sides and his head high, looking every inch of his 6 foot 5 frame.

“She will marry the devil himself before I permit her to marry you, you good-for-nothing cur!” he hissed through gritted teeth, showering me with spit. “Get off my land before I beat the living daylights out of you!”

I doubted he’d follow through on this threat, if only for Angeline’s sake. Regardless, I held up my hands in surrender and backed off. I could still hear John’s heavy boots stomping around on the flagstone floor of the workshop and kicking things even when I was outside.

As I passed the milking shed, I smiled at Angeline, gave her a short nod to let her know that I could meet her tonight. She tutted as if irritated by the idea, but I caught the smile that lifted the very corner of her mouth.

I knew she’d be waiting for me at our tree, at sunset.

The sun had not quite risen and Windenburg town centre was deserted. I climbed the rickety steps to the room in the ramshackle house that I called home. I spent so little time indoors these days that I may as well have not had an abode at all, but appearances mattered when you were trying to rebuild your life.

The landlord charged me twice the going rate for this dump.

I barely had any furniture, there was no fuel for the fire. Some might’ve called it poverty, but compared to what I’d had a year ago – a bucket and a mattress on the floor of my cell – it was a palace.

My stomach growled, prompting me to the pantry. Scanning the shelves for sustenance, I selected the apple that had seen better days over the raw onion and took my breakfast outside to watch the sun breaking over the horizon.

After spending more than half of my life incarcerated, I enjoyed the morning breeze through my hair, even on the days where the rain lashed against my skin and soaked my shirt.

Out among the leaves and the trees; that was where I belonged and where, this time, I intended to stay.

Since I had moved back here, a white cat had joined me daily for breakfast and today was no exception. He would usually circle around my ankles, sometimes hop on to my lap for a fuss. Today he eyed me almost suspiciously before climbing up.

I petted his soft head and he flinched, sniffed at my hand, my face. Perhaps he could pick up traces of Angeline’s scent on me.

I didn’t usually visit her in the mornings but last night I couldn’t stop thinking about her, I couldn’t sleep. I had wandered around the town walls, restlessly, finding myself heading down the path towards her farm. I had thought she would be sleeping, but I saw her outside, barefoot, studying her saplings.

She had rolled her eyes when she’d spotted me, leaning on the wall, watching her. She sighed, “Do you not have anything better to do?”

Was there anything better to do?

The sound of the squeaky cart barely even registered to me anymore, but it always startled my furry companion who scarpered into the bushes.

“A bad apple?” Noah asked, seating himself beside me. “Don’t tell me that’s all you’ve eaten.”

I grinned at him. “All right, I won’t tell you.”

Noah shook his head. “You need a decent meal, Seth. You cannot survive on fruit alone—“

Ah, this familiar play. I usually ignored him, but my morning activity had me fired up. “You’re right, I cannot survive on fruit alone,” I replied.

“You’ll get triple threat and gout and… what?” Noah stopped; stunned as I stepped off-script. “You’re agreeing with me? You never agree with me. About anything. Am I finally getting through to you?” he rejoiced.

I tried to stifle my laugh. “Yes, sir. I’ll have vegetables tonight, for a change,” I joked, amused as Noah’s confusion turned to outrage.

“You cad! You got me! But this is not funny; you’re wasting away!” he insisted. “Please, come by the house this evening; Betty is preparing a fine lamb.”

Now I ignored him. Noah offered this daily; only the meat ever changed. I took a final bite of my apple and threw the core into the nearby bushes.

Noah sighed and handed me another apple from his cart. “Fine. But if you must insist on doing this, going along with her strangeness, at least eat fresh crops.”

The market was quiet today, but Noah’s stall always had customers. His fresh produce was certainly attractive, but the main draw for one young woman was definitely not the exotic new fruits he’d grown.

“Back again?” I teased. “We’re out of potatoes, as you know.”

Harriet’s cheeks flushed pink. “I forgot a different ingredient for my pie! The… um…” she scanned the table. “The strawberries!” she gushed. “I forgot the strawberries! Can’t make the recipe without strawberries. Silly me!”

“Strawberries and potatoes? That’s an interesting pie.”

“It’s, um, a foreign recipe,” she murmured. “From, um, Sulani.”

“Exotic,” I said and placed the fruits inside her basket on top of the twenty-eight potatoes she’d already purchased in four different transactions that morning. “Anything else?”

“No, I—” She glanced over at her friends, who were watching with interest. Her gaze fluttered down to her full basket and empty coin purse, then back to me. “Actually… actually… yes.” She smiled at me with what she likely thought was coquettishness, but was more a shyness that was almost painful to observe. “I can think of one other thing I would like, yes.”

“A cabbage?”

Harriet looked at me for a second before she laughed in a brainless, frothy way that probably should have made me warm to her, but only served to annoy me.

“You’re so funny! There’s no cabbage in this recipe! Oh, you! You do make me laugh!” she laughed again, to demonstrate. “Perhaps… perhaps if you’re not so busy this afternoon, you’d like to keep me company, Seth?” She glanced back over at her friends again, her cheeks burning red. “Only because I need someone to help me eat this pie. I will not possibly be able to eat a whole pie by myself.”

“Then perhaps don’t make one,” I suggested.

Harriet wilted and blinked back tears, her voice small, “Of course… yes that would make sense, wouldn’t it?” She looked back over to her friends who were still giving their encouragement.

“I can do this,” she said quietly, shifting the weight of her basket on her arm and looking like she wanted the ground to swallow her. “Forget the pie. Father has a wedding to officiate today so I will be lonely. Oh! Not that I’m offering anything untoward – I’m certainly not – oh my goodness! Unless you want to, then I might permit you to hold my hand.”

She rambled on, looking like she might pass out. I could feel the heat from her face from where I was standing. “Not that I want you to hold my hand! Well, I do, of course I do, you’re handsome and you’re charming, but – oh my goodness! I am making such a mess of this! Do you want to come over?” she blurted.

“No,” I replied. I didn’t offer a reason and she didn’t ask for one. She nodded and as her eyes overflowed with tears I almost felt a twinge of guilt. She hurried away to her girlfriends without another word.

“You are cruel sometimes, Seth. You could do far worse than Harriet,” Noah uttered. “Her cooking skills and those hips? Watcher. She would be a fine wife and would bear you children.”

“I’m taken,” I replied as a familiar face with green eyes and a messy braid wandered into the square and headed straight for Ma’s curio store, as always.

Noah followed my gaze and sighed. “You are a law unto yourself. What do you see in Angeline?”

“She accepts me.”

“I’m sure she does,” Noah scoffed. “Which is precisely why you should forget her and find a wife who will keep you in line.”

I had to fight to keep the smirk from my face. “She keeps me in line.”

“In a line of two, on the fringe of society,” Noah muttered. “Besides, even if she was a viable option, there is no way on Watcher’s green earth that John would give you her hand, Seth.”

“I disagree.”

“Of course you do.”

I turned to my friend, determined. “I’ll find a way. Perhaps you can write me a reference; tell John what a hard worker and all-round wonderful human being I am.”

Noah scoffed. “A monkey could pick fruit faster than you. Would probably eat less of it as well,” his stance was firm but there was warmth in his voice. “I’ve already put my neck on the line for you. Make a good decision for once; court Harriet. She’s too young to remember your misdeed and too sweet for prejudice. She might be your only chance.”

I glanced at Harriet, who perked up at my unexpected attention.

“I simply need more time,” I said. “If I can just convince John I’m a changed man—“

Noah rolled his eyes at this. “You freed all of his chickens last Tuesday.”

That had been Angeline but of course I’d been blamed for it. I laughed. “I’m not going to be slipping back into a life of crime because of a few chickens. Although it was hilarious watching John chasing them around the meadow. A perfect distraction while I fornicated with Angeline in the barn.”

Noah apologised to an elderly lady who had overheard that snippet of conversation and hissed at me, “Freeing chickens. Fornicating in a barn. Do you hear yourself when you talk? You need to grow up, Seth. You won’t live forever, you know. You are already twenty-seven, not that you act like it! If you truly wish to reintegrate into the community, you need to stop chasing fantasy. Forget about Angeline and go and talk to Harriet.”

I cast my eye over the young lady Noah was referring to, who was pretending to browse the book stand, no doubt so she could eavesdrop.

Granted, she was pleasant to look at and she was mild-mannered, innocent, uncomplicated. Very keen to find a husband; her friends all recently married. She could be mine in a heartbeat.

I would have instant good-standing in the community, marrying the priest’s daughter, and the satisfaction of seeing whether her father truly had forgiven me as he’d claimed. I could have a brood of beautiful children, a wife who would dote on me, bake me strange pies and call me sweet names.

The whole idea bored me to tears.

Angeline had left the store, slipping a small bottle into her pocket as she crossed the square towards me. She smiled as she approached, giddy with something to say… until she clocked the proximity of myself and Harriet.

I pretended I hadn’t seen her and my attention lingered on the blonde a lot longer than my interest held, until Harriet blushed crimson under my sultry gaze and Angeline’s green eyes glowed with envy.

She stormed out of the square, elbowing Harriet as she did so and giving me a look that told me I’d surely be in for quite a scolding from her later.

The charge that went through me was like nothing else.

“No,” I said firmly. “I don’t want Harriet. It must be Angeline.”

Noah shook his head. “Why? She is on the shelf for good reason; besides her evident promiscuity and her aberrant opinions, she has a bad temper and she is unremarkable, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask you,” I replied. “Perhaps I enjoy my women rebellious, bad-tempered and unremarkable.”

“Then marry Harriet,” Noah looked around, cursed as if he couldn’t believe what he was about to say and lowered his voice, “but utilise other services.”

I gasped and said very, very loudly, “Noah Bucket! Are you implying that I would, nay, should cheat on my wife with prostitutes?!”

Noah’s cheeks were almost as red as his hair as he stammered at this accusation, which had once again startled that poor old lady, causing her to abandon her shopping.

“N- no! I… I would never—“

“To think I’d settle for a quick bonk with a dirty stranger – who I had to pay for the privilege – over a woman who’s all mine! Scandalous! Besides, I prefer to take my time,” I flashed Harriet a grin as I purred, “to satisfy. To savour.”

The silly girl actually swooned; falling into the book stand, her friends rushed to her aid.

“Of course you do,” Noah muttered, even his ears were red now. “You live in your own time zone while the rest of us simply get on with it.” He placed the abandoned items back into their bowls while hissing at me through gritted teeth, “You’re one word from unemployment, Seth.”

“Is that so? Perhaps for my next career I will offer myself to the ladies of this village,” I joked, albeit this time at a volume that the whole market wouldn’t hear. “I feel your Betty might be a good customer of mine if you do, as you say, simply get on with it.”

Noah let out a droll laugh. “Go ahead and mock me. I have my business, my sons and Betty – who has never complained, I hasten to add. What do you have?”


“Do you?” Noah asked. “Because from where I’m standing, you seem rather trapped. You may not be locked up now, but you’re still isolated, disconnected and pushing everyone away. I think there’s a reason why you pursue the likes of Angeline and why you antagonise her father; you’re afraid to commit and, with her, you don’t have to.”

“I’m not afraid. And one doesn’t have to be married to be committed.”

“They do if they wish to be a part of this community, Seth. Or are you afraid of committing to us, too?” Noah continued softly, “You have a great opportunity here, with a lovely, young woman. If you don’t take a wife soon, you risk ending up a very lonely man. Come,” he said, laying a cloth over his produce. “You can think about your terrible life choices over an ale. My treat. You surely deserve it for flogging our surplus of potatoes.”

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12 thoughts on “Chapter 2.53 – The Devil Himself

  1. So Seth has a past where he most of all reminds me of a charming cheerful Aladdin ….!

    Well, this is not a Disney adventure and if Seth has won the princess and the kingdom then this is far from glamorous.
    So far, I have not found the answer to why these memories are so devastatingly dangerous …. but I get a thought that Sage might have been conceived in a this barn a century ago.
    Set’s furry friend is a he and his devilish demon is a woman, which immediately speaks for they have nothing to do with each other. I more closely suspect the innocent priest’s daughter with a desire for marriage to hide a diabolical secret. But perhaps gender has no meaning in this fascinating patchwork image where time, coherence and place are dissolved into fragments.
    My brain is working at high pressure and I get so many weird thoughts. Maybe Seth and Broof are the one and the same…. Dr. Jekyll and mr. Hyde?
    I need to return to my reality before my brain explodes, cuddle my cats and calm my mind. I’m still missing the crucial pieces for my puzzle.
    Whatever Seth needs to hide, his survival strategy is devastating.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I totally get the Aladdin reference. 😄 Alas for Seth, Angeline is no princess and the kingdom is far from his. I wonder if there’s a genie who can grant his wishes of feeling included, winning John over or having more time.

      Ooh, these memories aren’t the dangerous ones, although they may perhaps be the most painful. It’s highly likely that Sage was conceived in a barn, yes. Or under a tree. Or somewhere other than a bed, at least.

      Yay! Tinfoil hat theories! Right, let’s see. Harriet is diabolical? She could be, her strawberry and potato pie certainly sounds like it would be an experience. “But perhaps gender has no meaning in this fascinating patchwork image where time, coherence and place are dissolved into fragments” Perhaps not. 😉 Seth and Broof are one and same? Is this a wild guess or are you super-perceptive? Because there is something that connects those two that I haven’t really even touched on yet! But sharing a body is not it. 😆

      Oh no, don’t let your brain explode! You get more pieces next chapter and then oodles of them in book three, which’ll be here before you know it. 😄❤

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I was thinking Noah looked an awful lot like Chuck, but figured it was a coincidence – but of course, there’s no such thing as a coincidence in AE. Now that that’s out of the way, Noah really needs to mind his own business. I know he’s trying to help, but there’s a line between giving a friend advice and basically ordering them what to do. Besides, his angle is only achieving the opposite “Hey Seth, you should marry this woman, she’s acceptable” – wow, who would not be seduced by that.

    So Seth is trying to be a vegetarian in the 1600s? Oof, that can’t be easy. Though it doesn’t look like he can afford much food either way, so I guess in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t make a difference.

    Sidenote – it’s kind of nice how much of his former self Seth retained, there’s the understandable love of the outdoors, the snappy wittiness – though I guess both of those kind of originated as coping mechanisms so it’s easy to see why they would stand the test of time.

    Also, jealous cat. Oh boy.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Fun fact: sometimes, with sims I really like, I don’t let them have babies and risk their genetics getting all borked, so I clone them, age them down and make them related instead. I liked Noah’s face so he, his son and Chuck (300 years was represented by 3 generations in game because… lazy) are all the same sim, but tweaked slightly. 🤓 “Noah really needs to mind his own business” indeed. *Puts on devil’s advocate hat* Noah is, however, very much a part of the community that Seth says he wants to reintegrate into and the only ‘bridge’ he currently has, so if Seth truly does want to be part of that (very narrow-minded) community, he should listen to Noah, marry Harriet and be miserable among friends.

      In the real 1600s, vegetarianism was crazy. In Sims 1600s, all my poorest sims survive purely on harvestables and what they find in bins, so I thought it wasn’t too far-fetched. 😆 And another way for him to embrace being an outsider, bonus.

      Oof, yes, coping mechanisms. 😓

      Can cats be jealous?


  3. To be fair, four-thirty really is early, John. If you’d slept in a little for a change, then maybe you wouldn’t have had to see Seth entangled with your daughter doing the horizontal tango first thing in the morning 🙈 I wonder how many times he has walked in on Seth and Angeline being together, entangled or otherwise. Angeline and Seth both looking at John with puppy dog eyes and hers being perfect while Seth’s just completely missed the mark made me laugh more than I want to admit, lol.

    “Pray, if you make her with child, I will—“
    Hmmmm. What are the chances that Angeline is already with child, I wonder? Was birth control a thing in ye olde Windeburg Bucketland? Woops, don’t anger the man with giant muscly arms, Seth. Not a good idea. Especially after he just caught you with his daughter. 😅

    Oh! Cow! 😄

    It’s so strange to see pre-modern Seth. His personality seems so different and yet so similar. There’s still the love for nature and his witty sarcasm and jokes are still there too. But he is so different from how we just saw Seth act with Faith. To the point where they’re almost two completely different people.

    I already mentioned this to you but Noah looks so much like a younger, red-headed, thinner version of Chuck. Ancestors! I wonder if Noah would be proud of where Chuck is now. … … … and now I wonder how Seth would have reacted to seeing Chuck’s face if he’d actually remembered Noah back in the day. A question that will never have an answer, I suppose.

    Strawberry potato pie. Yuck. It sounds like something Babs would make, together with blue lasagna and banana sausage surprise.
    Seth’s stone-cold rejection of Harriet would have angered me… but Harriet is arguably the worse person here. She only seems interested in Seth because he’s good-looking and she wants to find someone to marry. You could swap Seth with any good-looking young man, and she’d probably do the same. Being that flirty while being that disinterested in the actual person… it’s pretty insulting to the recipient. Nope. Doesn’t sit well with me at all. Nope nope nope. I’m sure you’re very nice, Harriet, but go take a hike.

    So it’s the choice between either marrying Harriet and being accepted in the community, or being with Angeline and remaining an outcast.
    Only – marrying Harriet is absolutely no guarantee that the community would actually accept Seth. Not to mention that he’ll be shackled, for life, to a woman who he feels nothing for and who likely feels very little for him. That just sounds like misery with extra steps to me – better run off with someone who you actually have a connection with. And the accepted by the community part… well, there are other villages, aren’t there? Why would Seth and Angeline have to settle for the one who so clearly don’t accept them? Sorry Noah, but my vote lies with Seth. 🤭

    Holy cow. What on earth did I just say.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Four thirty isn’t early on a farm! Although, any time is probably too early to see your daughter in that way. “I wonder how many times he has walked in on Seth and Angeline being together” a few, or at least he’s caught them hastily jumping apart a few times, for sure. Haha, yeah that puppy dog eyes picture cracks me up too. Angeline is so cute and Seth is not convincing anyone. 😆

      There was no reliable contraception in Ye Olde Bucketland, so there’s certainly a chance.

      Cow! She’s appeared in a few chapters now. I like to sneak her in as many scenes as I can.

      “To the point where they’re almost two completely different people.” That’s 327 years of rot for you.

      I wonder how Seth would have reacted to seeing Chuck’s face if he’d actually remembered Noah back in the day” All I’ll say to this is; you’ve seen how Seth usually treats humans. He did not treat Chuck like that.

      Hahaha! If Harriet wasn’t so flustered, maybe she’d have asked for onions or leeks instead of strawberries. I doubt any of those ingredients will make it into any kind of pie. Ah, well this is all Seth’s perspective, after all, and he doesn’t like Harriet. In her defence, she didn’t mention wanting to find a husband, he has assumed that, and isn’t finding someone attractive and charming a good motivation to want to invite them over and get to know them better? 😇

      There’s no guarantee that marrying Harriet would immediately fix everything, no. But remaining with Angeline will definitely keep him at arm’s length of everyone. As for finding a different community? Angeline has strong ties to a certain part of this one, more on that later, and it is all Seth knows, however detached he is from it, more on that next chapter.

      Look at you, becoming a Seth supporter! Ye Olde Seth, anyway. I wonder if modern Seth will learn anything from this.


  4. I read this a second time and I’m still enjoying the story too much to comment. I did note that Seth’s conduct even before he became a vampire is pretty much the same. He doesn’t filter his words because there is no point in wrapping them up in fluff for the sake of others too fragile for the kind of treatment they dole unto him. The one big difference though is that vamp Seth does try to dress up his words for whatever objectives he’s going for. In that sense, I like this mean, sarcastic Seth a lot more. I can understand why Harriet pisses him off to dang hell the way April does. What I don’t understand is why are her friends egging her on. Maybe Seth actually is pretty hot with the ladies. Who doesn’t like a bad boy? 😀 Especially the priest’s daughter. Wew. Harriet is secretly a troll.

    ‘On the shelf’ rubbed me so wrong in so many ways. Noah you are a nice dude but simMercury will probably nuke your ass cuz she’s hot-headed that way. Not real mercury. Real Mercury is totally sweet, heeyy~! 😉 Anyway just a long paragraph to admire your writing and choice in words 😀

    Also I’m itching to find out Noah’s last name. What if he were Wangshaft. Although he speaks to me more like someone who would catch Sage’s eye. If he were magicky and all ofc, but he’s married to Betty.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I’m glad you’re enjoying it! See? His life was just fine. 😄. Yes, Seth has always been mean and sarcastic, he just got a little wiser of how to use that as an advantage as a vampire. Her friends were keen for her to join them in the ‘married mothers’ club; in my ye olde story women who didn’t marry were often ostracised. All these characters appear in my Windenburg Witch Trials spin off story I was working on. Maybe I should revive that, sounds like you lot like this simpler world. 🤔

      Someone once described me as being ‘on the shelf’. My reaction was similar to yours.

      Noah’s last name is Bucket; Seth shouts it after Noah’s suggestion for a happy marriage. 😉

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I totally missed that. HOW?? Thanks for pointing it out. Well, ofc he’s mean and sarcastic. Who wouldn’t be after a childhood like that and growing the rest of his teen to early adult years in the tower. He’d be minced meat if he remained courteous in nice in there. I meant enjoying your writing and just immersing myself in the story. Not that I find his life ‘just fine’ XD

        Ahh ok. I didn’t factor in the perceptions of women and how important marrying is back then. >.>

        Liked by 1 person

        1. A childhood like what? As far as we know at this point in the story, it’s a mystery. 😉 Ah right, crossed wires, I’m glad you’re enjoying my writing. 😀

          Yeah. 😒 I don’t write with any real historical accuracy, I won’t reference any real world events or the like, but I do like to reflect what general attitudes in England would’ve been like around the times I’m writing.


  5. …I know what you meant this time. There´s actually quite a few answers here… and my, oh my, did I just burst out laughing several times over. Seth´s level of snark is just really something else. X´D

    There´s… a few things I could comment on, but yeah. Just your typical, close minded Olden Times. Angeline being the sort half a foot away of being accused as a witch, if it weren´t for her father of course. Not only accused, either, they´d be right wouldn´t they. Angeline and old Ma the High priestess, yeah…

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Quite a few answers, I wonder to which questions. Seth without the underhandedness and the manipulation is pure snark; writing this was an absolute blast. Maybe we’ll get him back to this, one day. Maybe.

      If there did happen to be witch trials in this world, Angeline would be a likely candidate for trial, yes, even by pure association to Ma. Ah, those days were hard for anyone who dared step outside the box.


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