Copyright J.B. Norman
On the whole, Amara Valda reflects, this is a fairly typical Spring Festival at Darkstone Manor. At Kat Darkstone’s best friend, you’d think she’d be used to it by now. And, while the screams of terror at the sight of Kat and Dunstana eating with all the grace of rampaging Turbosharks, are a thing of the past, the aftermath of the day remains bemusing on any number of levels.
“Ohhhh,” Dunstana groans, splayed on the couch, clutching her aching stomach. “I ate too much candy. Maybe I’ll feel better if I eat more candy.”
“Ohhhh,” Kat groans, splayed on her beloved plaid couch, clutching her aching stomach. “I ate too Spring Festival Goose.”
Sitting beside her best friend, gently stroking Kat’s hair, Amara sighs and shakes her head. “Katherine,” she notes. “You ate an entire goose by yourself. What did you think was going to happen?”
“Yeah,” Kat groans. “I should have eaten a couple Practice Geese first.”
Amara sighs again. “No, Katherine. That is not the lesson here.”
She gently pats Kat’s head.
“I’ll make you some ginger tea,” she tells Kat. “You’re lucky I love you, Katherine. A lesser woman would just leave you there to actually face the consequences of your action.”
She smirks.
“And while I don’t want to say that I told you so,” she notes. “I did tell you so. Loudly and repeatedly.”
She stands up from the couch.
Kat desperately clutches at Amara. “If I don’t make it, I want a Hrimfaxi funeral.”
Amara rolls her eyes. “You have a stomachache, Katherine. You aren’t some Valkyrie lying mortally wounded after the Battle of Storrjokull.”
“Nerd,” Kat moans quietly.
“Hush, you,” Amara replies, gently thwacking Kat with one of the cushions on the couch. “Keep that up and you won’t get any tea.”
With that, she heads into the kitchen to brew the ginger tea for Kat. Kat is left to reflect ruefully on the fact that maybe she shouldn’t have eaten and entire goose by herself. Or those 15 potatoes.
Or that salad. Or that other salad.
Or half a chicken.
Or all those appetisers.
Or spent the entire day snacking first before hand.
“It was worth it,” she quietly assures herself.
Amara returns with a cup of ginger tea and helps Kat sit up to drink it.
“Drink it slowly,” Amara tells her.
“But my stomach hurts now,” Kat protests.
“And guzzling the tea is only going to make that worse,” Amara says. “Besides, it’s hot. Scalding your tongue or your throat isn’t going to help either.”
Supervising her best friend closely, Amara makes sure that Kat drinks the tea at a sensible pace.
Eventually, Kat sets down the mug.
“Well, how are you feeling now, Katherine?” Amara asks.
Kat shrugs. “Kinda hungry, actually,” she says.
Amara rubs her forehead in frustration. “Of course you are,” she mutters.
Kat starts rising from the couch and eyeing the kitchen.
“I wonder if there are any leftovers. I think there was still a full half a goose left.”
Amara narrows her eyes. Her hand darts out to catch Kat by the arm.
“Katherine Hortensia Darkstone,” she says in the voice you’d use with a misbehaving puppy. “No. Don’t. you. dare.”
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