3
Margot rose very early the following morning, as was her wont in the summer. The moment the first glimmers of dawn peeped through the c****s in her shutters, she was awake and swift to rise. A chunk of Seigneur Morel’s seed bread — grown a little stale, but flavoursome enough — refreshed her for the day’s labours, taken with a glass of marjoram tea. Thus fortified, and dressed in one of the simple brown cotton skirts she so much preferred, Margot ventured out to greet the morning.
Dawn seemed all the more a miracle in the wake of the Gloaming, and Margot savoured every moment of it as she walked into the meadows on the edge of Argantel. Her ultimate destination was, of course, Landricourt, but she had some of her own business to conduct before she took up her duties. Humming a low tune
