Jade Fern Grove landwirtschaft

his eyes were studiously avoidant, and heda pulled her own away with planing ears. but his bid for communication went registered with a widening of the self-same gaze. "rivenwood? is that what you said?"
there had been no sound to beckon her ear; she had only seen the name of that hallowed and winsome place spoke enough times to see it for what it was.
"i'm heda. rivenwood is — was —" her breath caught, and she searched the man with a familiarity bordering the indecent intimations of one who knows she must know.
"do you know mahler? because it's — it's the girls he raised who hold that bypass now."
and could she bear to share roof with another son of that dour gargoyle?