Bee And Foxglove

Bee Destroys An Ancient Relic

***Author's note: I renamed Bee and Foxglove's beardog to Sweetpea and recycled the name Vincent for another character, as you're about to see. Their horse has a name now too: Sammy.***

Bee ended up needing a second rest stop, and the supposedly three-hour ride took five hours. At last, they reached a sign saying "Welltoudere," the name of their destination, next to a very old statue of a mustachio'd man with a sword.

"Weird statue," said Bee. (While depictions of military-type people were not taboo, they were also no longer the subject of commemoration in Kandra).

"Apparently Welltoudere is a converted aristocratic estate," said Foxglove.

"Oh," said Bee. That would explain it.

There wasn't a lot else left to hint at the history of the place as they walked past wheat fields and dinky little cottages – except that when Bee and Foxglove reached the particular cottage they were looking for, they saw a fancy bronze coat of arms beside the door, another self-important seeming statue to the side, and topiary bushes in the shape of a bear and a lion. Sweetpea barked at the bear. Frustratingly, it failed to respond to her.

If I may make a little aside: it may interest you to know that Sweetpea's kind had once been tamed from wild bears – well, bear-like animals, you get me – and not wolves as is the case with dogs on Earth. Hence I've called these creatures beardogs. Some varieties of beardog could get as large as a pony, though Sweetpea was more or less just... dog sized. Her physique was maybe closer to that of a dog than a bear, but she had adorable round ears and an adorably tiny little bear tail, and would sometimes stand on her hind legs adorably, especially when begging for food.

Bear in mind – perhaps you won't be able to get bears out of your mind at this point; if so, I apologise – but, bear in mind, Bee and Foxglove were still witnessing a cottage*. It had a thatch roof and only two windows that they could see from this angle. Its size hinted at a cozy living experience, not a grand one. No one got lost looking for the bathroom, if you get my drift.

*As far as I'm concerned, "pun not intended" is for the weak. As a narrator, I consider it my solemn duty to always double down on my puns.

Foxglove looked at Bee, checking in with her nonverbally, and, seeing Bee's consent, she rang the doorbell.

A man wearing a fine black suit opened the door. He wore a thin black moustache and stood with impeccable posture. "Ah, Lady Foxglove, Lady Bee, please, do come in."

Foxglove raised her eyebrow at Bee. They allowed themselves to be ushered in.

"Ah, of course, our guests, good man," came a squeaky voice. Foxglove looked down to find a boy of perhaps ten years old bowing to them formally. The boy reached out to kiss their hands in turn. "Vincent Montgomery de Welltoudere the Second, at your service, mesdames," he said.

"Oh, um, thank you," said Foxglove. She looked to the adult, who seemed to be standing to attention. "Welcome to our home," he said. "I am Winston, Vincent's ba– butler."

"Were you about to say babysitter?" asked Bee.

"Alas, a slip. You might, indeed, say that I have been put in charge of the young master's wellbeing, as his parents most regrettably find themselves indisposed."

(A well-organised postal system is a marvel, but even that could only do so much. Bee and Foxglove had passed the mail rider on their way to Welltoudere, carrying a letter for them explaining the situation).

"Are you... really... um... aristocrats?" asked Bee.

She was always the blunt one. Foxglove shot her a look, which she missed.