“And you mother sees that as cruel and...”
“Cold, was the term she used,” he agreed. “Ah,” he commented as a cottage tucked amongst the trees appeared before us. “We must be on the outskirts of the village. There was one particular case which I guess was the last straw for her, where a man promised his first born in exchange for a potion to save his dying wife and tried to renege on the promise, the punishment of which is transmutation into a donkey for ten years.”
“For breaking a promise, he would spend ten years as a donkey?”
“That particular promise, yes. Lies and broken promises are despised above all things. Fae cannot lie. We can omit, mislead and evade,” there was a smile to his voice, “but lying is an ability we do not share with mankind, and we look poorly upon it as to
