But his favorite thing so far had been the cooking. His first night there, the Lady Iris had labored over a meal to befit the King and God himself. C...en reveled in the flavors and smells. His favorite part had been the bread. There were no weevils or rocks or dirt in it. Amazing, he thought, and he had munched down another piece. And now as he sat in front of the fire in the library, dressed in his modern frocks of what they called Jeans and a sweater, Cien brooded. He thought how he would. Grimacing, Béla lifted her wings so that he could duck under them and get around behind her. She winced as he touched his fingers against some of the damaged cartilage.“I don’t know exactly how to do this,” he said, sounding worried, “but this piece here,” Béla cried out as he pressed on it, “needs to lie flat – this way...”Béla cried out again as something snapped in her wing structure where Jake was torturing her.“Like that!” he exclaimed triumphantly.He held her wing in position with one. More

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