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[melpherno]

Cael's pancakes – ( ♡ )

Cael x reader – drabble !

Ao3 link [🖇️]

The little painter missed Cael's cooking.

The painter thought it was childish; wanting to take a bite of her guardian's pancakes when they were away from home, in Provence, on a tour – it wasn't the time to think of such nonsensical cravings. But she couldn't help herself, Cael's pancakes were delicious.

Cael was appointed to be the little painter's guardian after her mother passed away. Burdened by her emotions, and being under the influence of her hormones, little painter always hid herself in her room; rarely coming out. And, thanks to Cael's "deduction skills", he somehow managed to convince the little painter to step out of her room. And how so? Using his incredible cooking skills, of course.

After noticing that his comforting words weren't coming to fruition, Cael opted for acts of service instead – he cooked the little painter hearty meals. And, as expected, the young girl absolutely loved her guardian's first dish, strawberry toast. Cael's souffle pancake was the second dish that easily made its way into the painter's "favourite foods" list; she simply couldn't resist when Cael served it with a few strawberries, and added a drizzle of maple syrup on top. Simply thinking about it was enough to make the painter's mouth water.

As they went on, Cael noted how the little painter was zoning out. They were in the middle of the lavender fields in Provence. The main reason behind bringing the painter there was to make her relax, to take her mind off from things – but, it seemed that, it wasn't working well either. Because, if it weren't for Cael noticing, the little painter might've bitten onto the lavender flower he held out for her. And, a brief moment of awkwardness followed right after.

"Is something on your mind?" Cael asked, his voice polite as ever, pretending as if that didn't happen at all.

"Yeah, I'm just..." The little painter hesitated, not looking at Cael directly in the eyes. "Just missing your pancakes, that's all."

Cael didn't know how to react to that; should he thank the painter for complimenting his culinary skills in a weird way, or should he simply ask her why she was even thinking about it out of the random? Without wasting any time, he simply showed the painter a smile instead. "Alright, I'll try treating you pancakes the next morning. How about we check out that little café near the-"

"But, I want your pancakes," The little painter interrupted.

"..." Cael was silent for a moment, perhaps out of bewilderment, or perhaps out of embarrassment. He then shook his head and responded, "Alright, I'll cook pancakes for you when we return home."

[romance-rambles]

IN WHICH HE STICKS TO THE LETTER, NOT THE SPIRIT

Years after New Godheim is established, your daughter attempts to help you solve a mystery you hadn't thought too hard about before her. Ayn gets ambushed, Roxana gets chocolate, and you get no answers.

— pairing: [godheim] ayn alwyn x little painter/you

— word count: 884

— tags: domestic fluff, takes place long after ayn's route but might not be compliant with the epilogue [i haven't played it yet]

— note: roxana means dawn or bright. i felt like it was a very fitting name for ayn's daughter, precisely because of his color scheme and revenge plotline.

return to lbc masterlist | series: an eventful first meeting

AYN HAS JUST WALKED IN the front door when he's met with an ambush. Instinctively, he reaches out his free hand, steadying the small bundle of joy holding his legs hostage.

She looks up at him, and he sees eyes the color of his own shining determinedly back at him. As his hand lowers from the back of her head to her shoulder, her small hands tighten their grip on his legs, leaving a pattern of creases to crawl down the length of his pants.

"I'm home," he says, crouching down to her level. It takes all his willpower to not smile or look when he hears you laugh softly from somewhere in the back. "Isn't there something you should say to me?"

Letting go of him, Roxanna blinks owlishly. Then, as she cups her chin thoughtfully, some realization dawns on her—though Ayn doubts it's the correct one.

"Papa," she says urgently. "Did you get my chocolate?"

He snorts, offering her his latest purchases to peruse through. "Why don't you take a look?"

Easily swayed by the promise of more sweets, she buries her head into the basket and begins sorting through. Ayn watches over her fondly, until a slight movement from behind one of the sofas catches his eye. Soon, you poke your head out properly, a wry grin on your face—as if to commiserate over her blatant disregard for everything when chocolate is involved.

He raises an eyebrow at you. You hang your head in response, a fake tearful expression on your face. Ever the dutiful husband, Ayn sighs.

"Are you sure there's nothing else you want to ask me?"

There's chocolate on her hands now. A smear on her lips, and another on her cheek. She glances over to where you're hiding, then at him, her lips forming an 'O'. Taking off his glove, he gently wipes away the mess and gets awarded for his helpfulness by the sight of her stomping her feet angrily.

"That was my chocolate!" Roxanna pouts, crossing her arms. "I'm taking yours!"

Nothing good comes of spoiling a kid rotten. But a little bit, he thinks, is deserved. Scooping both his daughter and his recent goodies up, he presses a kiss to her forehead. She huffs, resting her head against his chest when she hears him chuckle.

"That's okay. I'll just take them from Mama," he says, keenly aware of his wife's furious glare as he walks past the living room—into the kitchen, where he sets her down on the countertop. "Are you sure there's nothing else?"

"Hmm?" Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, at first. Then, bobbing her head confidently, she asks, "Papa, how'd you meet Mama?"

By now, you've migrated to a different hiding spot. The still tearful look on your face tells him that this isn't the question you coached her on. Ayn bites back a smirk.

"So, that's what you wanted to ask?" he asks, his smile widening when he spies you shaking your head—hoping that your silent gesturing for her to cease her attempts get across. "I thought I already told you that story."

"No, you told me how you got married!" she says. "How'd you meet?"

"We were at a ball," Ayn recounts, closing his eyes. His smile fades a bit at the memories directly following that encounter, only for it to flare back to life when he remembers the way you panicked over maple syrup. "Your mother…she was engaged to someone else back then. So we were celebrating for her."

Roxanna frowns. "What happened to him then?"

Opening his eyes, he raises an eyebrow at her. "I thought you wanted to know about us?"

"Continue…" she grumbles.

"There was only one slice left of my favorite cake," he continues, recalling the smile on your painted lips as you offered it to him. "Your mom gave it to me when she realized I wanted it."

Years have passed since that day, and they have taken bits of his memory with them. Most of the nobles who attended alongside him are a sea of faceless men and women, depicted in indistinct shapes and clashing colors. Even Lars has become a distant memory—but you alone remain preserved under the bright lights, as beautiful then as you are now.

"Really? That's it?" As though she'd been hoping for something more romantic, she scrunches up her nose. "I'd never do that."

He smiles softly, well aware his daughter won't understand his hidden meaning. "And I hope you never have to."

"Okay," Roxanna says, tilting her head. She's grabbed another chocolate, and this time, her mouth is full when she asks her next question. "Oh! Then, when did you know you liked her?"

"You shouldn't eat with your mouth full," he chides.

His softened gaze naturally wanders over to you—at the same time that you happen to be celebrating your good fortune. It seems this is the question you wanted her to ask. Ayn disguises his laugh as a cough, and a lovely shade of red blooms across your cheeks.

As he ruffles his daughter's dark hair—to which she protests loudly, and is mollified only when he fixes the muted red of her bangs back into place—he flashes a mischievous grin at his wife.

"Hmm, well, I wonder…maybe I'll remember if I talk to your mother."

[givlietta]

"I fell in love with teasing you in the second grade, when I first discovered that I could turn your cheeks pink with just a word. Then I fell in love with you."

"I realized that Liz was a fucking Taylor Swift song. She was. Vibey and romantic, but with the uncanny ability to reach inside of you and grab your heart with her absolute specifity. Liz Buxbaum wasn't just a redhead; no, she was the color of the late September maple leaves that flutterd on the home base tree in her front yard."

- Wes Bennett, Better than the movies (Lynn Painter)

[biffhofosho]

Prisoner to Temptation | Chapter Seven

Word Count: 9.2k

A/N: First off, it’s actually crazy to me how vocal you cool kids are about this story considering how small my little third-person POV readership bubble is. Like, I think I’m in love with you people.

Second of all, since you’re so vocal, I hear tell that a few of you would like to file some grievances with your local HR rep regarding my babygirl’s gatekeeping of herself when it comes to her husband lmao. Let’s see what our darling prince might do this chapter to pry open those gates, hm? ;)

Cvr | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12

After their second night together, Naran had found things much more troubling for her than the first. It wasn’t just that everything in her bed smelled like Hyungwon now. It wasn’t just that, after one overnight, her body had already started keeping to one side of the bed. Most damningly, she had laid awake far too long dwelling on the way her body had almost compelled her to kiss him. She tried to forgive herself, to rationalize it away as human nature, but no matter what reason she settled on, it wasn’t good enough. She had made a promise to herself that her future would not be ruled by the passing fancies of men, and when Narangerel of Moghulikhan made a choice, she was resolute. She would not invite him into her bed so carelessly so soon.

But by the same token, she had also made a promise to her sister to include the girl’s new brother-in-law in their daily activities, and Naran was also a woman of her word. Over the next week that passed, she found small ways to appease Saran while safeguarding her peace of mind.

When the sisters went to the library, the prince tagged along. Luckily, once they were there, it was a solitary experience, which made it easy for Naran while Saran and her new brother reviewed books together.

Another day, Saran had wanted to paint in the gardens, so Naran had suggested the prince come along to be her sister’s subject. Unfortunately, that backfired since Naran was a dreadful painter, and her sister had ended up begging the crown princess to pose with the crown prince. Sharing a bench for hours with her husband under a shady maple hadn’t exactly been in her plans, especially when their sides had to be pressed together.

At least during the next day, when they had all taken tea together, Naran had finagled it so her sister sat between them, and the crown princess had gotten some much needed distance, save from his big-eyed, gentle-browed looks over his tea cup.

The most challenging day had seen Hyungwon teaching the sisters how to fish in one of the ponds. Fishing wasn’t much of a skill set for the ladies of the steppe, so it had required hands-on instruction, which the prince had been more than agreeable to offer, but the difference in his instruction between the two sisters was marked. Saran had received a side-by-side cast and reel tutorial; Naran, he informed, was a hopeless case, and the prince had taken to wrapping his wife in his arms and carefully positioning her hands and body for “the perfect cast.” She might have caught her first fish that way, but it had come at the high cost of a lingering kiss to her cheek after her success.

Thankfully, the next day saw the whole party of royal ladies on an excursion to an apple festival in town since the silk festival they had initially planned on was further away, and Queen Jigme was not keen on a full day’s ride. Though Naran had been looking for an excuse to get as far away from the palace as possible, the apple festival had turned out to be lovelier than she had dreamed. She had only had apples once in Urga, and they had been far too soft and mealy for her taste, but these were firm and honeyed and all together divine in ways she’d never dreamed.

“Your Royal Highness, please, I beg you take one home for your husband,” beseeched a peddler as she crammed a particularly shiny apple into the princess’s basket.

Now, the apple felt like an anvil in Naran’s hands on the ride home. She considered eating it herself—Hyungwon would never be the wiser—but the farmer had been so proud and so insistent, and the crown princess knew she had to honor her subject’s offering. In the end, she wished she hadn’t. The way her husband’s eyes lit up as he received his first gift from his wife made Naran sway the same way she had when she’d tasted fermented apple cider that morning.

The problem with lively days was how quickly the nights came. That first evening, Hyungwon had cornered the princess in an ill-lit hallway and asked with hopeful eyes if she would visit his chambers later. It had taken all of her strength to say no.

The intensity of their last encounter had frightened Naran. Though there had never been any hope of escaping how attractive she found the man, she thought at least that she might have some measure of control over that attraction, but it had become abundantly clear that, despite her rational mind, her body craved him. She figured if she limited his trespasses into her bed—or hers into his—in time, her mind could overcome her body. Obligations could stay obligations. They could be independent partners and friends—who sometimes had to sleep together for the sake of a nation.

Of course, the more she thought of it, the less reasonable it sounded. After their first night of cataclysmic experiences, Naran realized how quickly she’d become addicted to the pleasure Hyungwon had offered her. Without him, her bed felt too big and her sheets felt too cold, even after they’d been warmed by the servants.

A few more nights like that should have been easier. They weren’t. The knowledge that her husband’s door was a mere sprint across the parlor loomed large in her overactive imagination. Which was why after only an hour into her second night alone, she had retreated to Saran’s room and stayed there the rest of the week. That way, it was easy enough to turn down the prince’s offers for the time being.

Meanwhile, as if to spite her meticulous planning, the rest of their families got along surprisingly easily considering a few months ago, their countries were on the brink of unspoken war. The emperor and the khan, in particular, seemed to have formed some kind of a bond. Most nights, they retired to the emperor’s office to drink and joke so raucously that their laughter reverberated down the halls.

The empress and queen were not as free with one another, to the point that Naran thought they were simply trying to out-noble one another. By the end of the week, in Naran’s opinion, they were neck-and-neck in propriety, modesty, and poise, though Empress Indeok held the edge in sophisticated passive aggression and Queen Jigme surpassed in subtle coercion. Truly, they were a well-matched pair, and, indeed, after the apple festival, the sisters caught the mothers stolen away in a bath closet where they no doubt never expected to be found, giggling and sipping fermented cider straight from the bottle.

Which was why the next day came like a dust storm across the steppe—brutally and unpredictably.

Queen Jigme stood in the parlor before the princess, who thought she’d carved out a moment of peace for herself as Saran and Hyungwon had gone to the kitchen for a snack.

“I have come to tell you we intend to return to Urga tomorrow.”

Air fled the room, leaving an inescapable vacuum.

Naran gaped at her mother. “What? So soon? I thought everyone was getting along? You planned to stay at least two more weeks!”

She had to have heard the queen wrong. They were having fun together. There was no reason to leave!

“Yes, but your father’s health dictates it,” added Jigme, “and you know how the weather can be crossing the steppe this close to October. Every day we delay, we risk a snowstorm, and with your father—”

“Mother, don’t lie to me. October is weeks and weeks away, and you yourself said you had never seen Father in finer spirits.”

The queen stood a little taller now, and it was clear she’d shed her act. “You’re as shrewd as your accursed mother, my obstinate sun. Since we linger here, you are spending every waking moment with the people who have seen you every day for two decades yet hardly a whit of time with your new husband.”

“I'd rather spend it with you since our time is finite,” Naran protested bitterly.

“I will not have a princess of Moghulikan dishonor the country that took her in. Be a newlywed, dearest. Have a picnic. Host a party. Go horseback riding. I have heard your Prince Hyungwon looks very handsome on a horse.”

“Mother!”

“I dare say he will look handsome anywhere, especially in the evenings. I am sure candlelight frames his face well.”

“Are you trying to get me to push you out the door because it’s working?”

“Narangerel, let me speak plainly. I know you have spent every night this week in your sister’s room instead of your own.”

The princess scuffed the toe of her shoe along the floor as she shrugged. “What of it? I knew you’d be leaving soon. Why shouldn’t I?”

Jigme was unamused. “Are you or are you not the Princess Supreme of Goryeo?”

Naran rolled her eyes. “Oh, Mother…”

“My love, you will make such beautiful heirs! I can hardly wait to receive the news of my grandchildren.”

“Okay, there it is,” Naran shouted, pushing her mother toward the door. “Yes, please go! Travel safely and wait a long time to come back.”

Jigme laughed and, suddenly, so did Naran, and then just as suddenly, they were both weeping into each other’s arms.

“How I will miss arguing with you,” said the queen into her daughter’s hair.

“I’ll make sure to pick a fight with you in all my letters.”

“And I’ll be sure to scold you back.”

They laughed again through tears and hugged all the tighter. Maybe if Naran never let go, they couldn’t leave her after all.

“If you see an eagle in the sky, be sure to tell Altantsetseg I love her,” begged the princess.

“I will.”

“And give my favorite horse to someone who will ride her often and far. Not Khunbish in the stables. He’s a terrible rider and swears at the horses. You should really turn him out.”

The queen chuckled in agreement as she nodded. “Done, my sun.”

“And please write me often,” Naran said, though the words were getting gummier through her increasingly stuffy nose, “so I don’t forget how to read Moghul.”

“You will not forget who you are, dearest. Of that, I am most certain. You are the best of us.”

“I love you, Mother.”

The queen held her daughter’s face with her hands along with her gaze. Slowly, a smile lit up the corners of Jigme’s strong features. “I love you, too.”

Naran pulled back, wiped her eyes, and tried to stand as tall as her mother had always coached her to. With a bow for her goodnight, the princess turned begrudgingly back to her quarters before her mother’s voice caught her.

“Where are you going?” asked the queen.

“To my room, as you said?”

Jigme smirked. “Your sister’s quarters are the other way. I told her moments before coming here, so she will need you one last night. Come.”

Her mother stretched out her hand, and Naran took it. As they walked back to the guest wing, the princess wondered if this would be the last time she would ever hold her mother’s hand, and she squeezed just a little tighter for just a little longer.

It was a dark day. It wasn’t just that the Moghul royal caravan had been packed and readied, the horses champing at their bits before the gates, but the clouds were thick and heavy as they jostled over Namgyeong. The threat of rain was ever-present, but just as Naran held back her tears watching her family pack into their carriage, so, too, did the clouds hold back theirs. It was only a matter of time before the deluge.

With the khan and the queen already loaded in the carriage, Saran followed, but with only one foot in the cabin, she let out a wail and leapt back out, charging over to her sister.

“This is a mistake!” the young princess shouted. “We can’t leave you here! You belong in Moghulikhan!”

“Saran!” both the queen and the crown princess said in unison.

“Get back in this carriage this instant,” admonished their mother as she eyed the emperor and empress, who were waiting to bid their guests farewell. “You’re making a scene.”

Saran didn’t care as she buried her face in her sister’s hanbok. “I could never bear a move this far from home, so how can you? I know I said I was happy for you, but not when I know what you love most is Moghulikhan. You love it so much, and you are giving it up.”

Naran summoned all her poise and bravery to soothe her little sister’s hair and kiss her head. “It is not Moghulikhan I truly love, but you, my little fox. My match will ensure you find that one special person who brings you joy. You will marry someone who will rule Moghulikhan beside you, and you will be happy and loved, and our people will be forever grateful.”

“They should be grateful to you then,” Saran protested. “I know I am.”

“Thank me by being happy.”

The girl’s hands tightened around Naran’s back. “And what about you? Can you be happy here?”

The crown princess smiled. “I can be happy anywhere knowing you are safe and free.”

“Princess Sarangerel!” called the queen again from the carriage, this time far more desperately.

The sisters rolled their eyes at one another, burst into one final giggle, and hugged one last time. Naran stole the moment to whisper, “Kiss a few boys if you want. Be smart, be strong, be fearless, and never, ever settle. You are Crown Princess of Moghulikhan now, and you are a force to be reckoned with, Your Highness.”

“I love you, Naran!”

“I love you more. Now, go, before Mother has a heart attack or Father goes deaf."

Naran shooed her sister back toward the carriage, and with one final look back, her little sister climbed aboard. One of the servants shut the door, and the next thing Naran knew, the gates had opened and the front of the caravan had already disappeared through. The last thing she saw was the grumpy beak of the goose the prince had gifted them at the wedding ceremony, a ridiculous reminder of the day her life had irrevocably changed.

Naran was sure the clatter of hooves and the snap of the Moghul banners in the sudden gusts would weigh on her mind forever as she watched the last of the carts disappear behind the great wooden doors of Changdeokgung.

“I am sorry to see your family leave,” said the empress behind Naran, startling her. As alone as she felt, the princess had honestly forgotten that anyone else was there with her. “They are very good people.”

“I thank you for saying so,” the princess replied, though her words were hollow.

Hyungwon put his hand on her back in support, but she shrank away. She wasn’t in the mood for comfort or even acknowledgment.

“I never met a man who could hold his liquor as well as Delger Khan,” said Emperor Gongmin as though he hadn’t plotted to take everything away from the man mere months ago.

Naran felt sick.

“I should like to go inside now,” she said as she turned back toward the palace. The princess did not wait for them to follow, even as Hyungwon called out for her.

It started to rain just then. It was only a few fat drops at first, but then the heavens opened with a torrent, and as the other royals scattered under servants’ umbrellas, Naran pressed forward undeterred. At least the rain could hide her tears.

It was deep into a sleepless night when Naran heard a very soft knock on her door.

With a tremendous sigh, she clambered out of bed and wrapped her robe around herself before she shuffled over and rasped, “Who is it?”

“It’s Hyungwon.”

Her head drooped. She was not in the mood to entertain a bored prince, now more than ever.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Could you open the door please?”

Naran growled and swore under her breath, but she opened the door all the same. Waiting on the other side with the sweetest of smiles was the prince.

“Hi,” he said softly. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“You did not. What does his highness need at this late hour?” Truly, Naran had planned to be more polite, but her eyes were tired from crying and she didn’t have the energy.

Hyungwon gnawed on his bottom lip for a moment before he said, “I wanted to see if you would join me for a drink?”

He waggled two glasses along with a bottle of clear, sloshing liquid, and as much as the princess burned to drink herself into oblivion, she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure, Princess? I know what today asked of you.”

Naran choked back a sob just before she could embarrass herself and instead offered a reluctant nod. Hyungwon echoed it and took a step forward, but she held out her hand to stop him.

“Not here,” she ordered. She wanted to be as far away from any place they could conceivably spend another night together and just as far away from the memories of the ones they already had spent.

“How about my study then? It’s quiet, and no one will bother us there.”

Another single nod from the princess.

“Shall I get dressed?” she asked.

“Come as you are,” Hyungwon answered. “There’s no need for pretenses between us.”

But Naran wasn’t so sure about that. She tugged her robe tighter and cinched the collar with her hand. Following the weak light of the prince’s candle, they walked down the corridor to a wing she had only visited on her initial palace tour. Here, the walls were dark, many draped in tapestries or heavy curtains. At night, it felt more like a brothel. She didn’t remember it looking this suggestive on her tour, yet now, the walls felt close, almost pressing against her.

“Are you okay, Princess?” asked Hyungwon. “You look like you’re going to jump out of your own skin.”

“I’m fine.”

The prince considered her words for a moment before he pushed ahead to a heavy door.

“My private study,” he said as he eased it open.

This room had been on her tour as well, but Naran had been too overwhelmed at the time to bother glancing at it. Now, she’d wished she had for the benefit of seeing it on a sunny day. As with every room in the palace, it was large with soaring ceilings, but swaddled in shadows, it was tantalizingly intimate.

Unlike most of the rooms in the palace, Hyungwon had designed his study with a Western influence. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined one wall while a long dresser anchored the other beneath an enormous mirror that no doubt cost more than the yearly salaries of all the servants back in Urga. When he lit the candelabra in front of it, the whole study glittered.

The prince’s desk commanded the space, however. It was huge and heavy, as though the tree it had once been had grown right there and they’d just built the room around it. Thick, smooth lacquer drew out the warmth in the wood like a magnifying glass while ornate carvings of tigers and dragons in eternal battle exemplified its strength. Short of the throne itself, there was no finer piece of furniture Naran had ever seen.

Hyungwon stood behind his desk, and even in his silk robes, his might was unquestionable. If he opened his lips to declare war on every kingdom in the six realms, Naran wasn’t sure she could stop even herself from kneeling.

But, instead, the prince pulled out his chair and gestured toward it. “Please sit, my lady.”

“I couldn’t possibly—”

“Please. You’ll be more comfortable here.”

Naran stared at the immaculate upholstery and overstuffed cushions before she looked back at her husband. “Are you sure?”

Hyungwon nodded and took the seat safely across the desk to make his stance on the issue crystal clear. At last, the princess sank into her chair, too, which was easily the most comfortable chair she’d ever sat in. He uncorked the bottle, and immediately, the pungent aroma of alcohol filled the study. The prince poured a draft of liquor into both shot glasses and passed one across the table.

When Naran had hers in hand, he said, “I promise, my lady, from here on out, it shall get better.”

Thinking it the toast, the princess raised her glass and knocked it back while Hyungwon followed suit with a smirk on his face. At first, Naran didn’t understand why.

Then she felt it.

Scorching agony blazed a trail down her throat to sit like lava in her stomach. For a second, she thought she might breathe fire.

“What the hell is that!” she wailed as she tried to scratch the taste of naphtha from her tongue.

“I told you it would only get better from here. You’ll like this a great deal more the second go-around.”

“I'm never drinking that again,” Naran swore.

Hyungwon smiled knowingly.

“Seriously, what is that rancid stuff?”

“A gift from the Emperor of Champa.”

“My mother was right then,” Naran mused with a slow smile, “Princess Binh was gunning for an alliance with Goryeo.”

“I wouldn't say the princess was,” Hyungwon informed. “Emperor Gia Long seemed more concerned with the match than his daughter. Princess Binh mostly just complained to me that the weather in Goryeo is too cold and that there are no beaches or coconuts here.”

“If I knew all it took to turn you off from a match was complaining about missing sand and sun, I would have spent more time talking about the Gobi.”

“It was too late by that point. I had already made up my mind about you,” said the prince. He poured another drink and offered it to her. “Again, my lady?”

She bit her lip as she considered, but the other alternative was chatting privately with her husband sober, and she didn’t have the strength left for such a thing after today. Naran downed the shot and grimaced.

“Better?” he asked.

“Still disgusting.”

“But better.”

The truth was, this time, her stomach felt warm and fuzzy instead of full of liquid fire, and her limbs were buzzing lightly. Thanks to the distracting sensations, she probed, “Were there any other princesses you considered that night?”

Hyungwon shrugged. “My father had given me a short list, but after meeting all of them, I knew I couldn’t marry any one of them.”

“Why not?”

“For starters, they were storybook princesses—all beautiful and sweet and perfect, to be sure, but completely one-dimensional.”

“That sounds perfect for you, are you crazy!” Naran retorted.

Hyungwon smiled. “Perfect for my kingdom, but you know me well enough now, my lady. I’m hardly perfect for my kingdom.”

“So, this is why I find myself sulking in the most expensive chair I’ve ever seen drinking the foulest drink I’ve ever tasted from a princess who hoped to wed my husband?”

The prince poured yet another round and said, “I’ll drink to that.”

Naran tipped back her glass, and this time, instead of a hiss as the liquid coated her throat, she hummed. “Better.”

“Told you,” said Hyungwon with two charming high eyebrows.

“That’s no reason to get cocky.”

The prince laughed, and on a day with no laughter at all, it sounded all the warmer. Or perhaps that was just the alcohol talking.

“You didn’t come to dinner,” Hyungwon said.

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“Maybe we should take the drinks slower then. This stuff is a lot stronger than soju.”

“Maybe you should stop making my decisions for me,” Naran challenged, tapping her empty glass on the table for a refill. “I might be Goryeon by title, but I'm Moghul by birth. Alcohol is already in our blood.”

With a stern eye, the prince poured a noticeably smaller portion this round, and she sighed but drank it all the same.

Hyungwon watched her lips pucker as it went down and then he said, “How are you faring today?”

“Great. Everything is going exactly as I always hoped and dreamed,” she said, the sarcasm extra biting thanks to the bitterness in the alcohol. “Another.”

Hyungwon repeated the same shallow pour and then sat across from his wife, watching her with gentle eyes. Either he did not know what to say or he was afraid of another blow to his self-esteem—or maybe it was neither of those things. Everything about him was so soft right now, borderline inviting, like something Naran could fall right into.

“I’m afraid that was the last time I shall ever see my father.” The words were out too fast for her greased lips to catch them as was the tear at the corner of her eye. She swiped it angrily away as she grumbled, “I should have married Prince Grigoriy like my grandfather wanted.”

Hyungwon blinked hard. “Grigoriy of Kazan?”

Naran nodded. “My grandfather had intended us practically, but he could not force my hand.”

“So that’s why he was staring at you all night…” said the prince, lost in a memory of the night they met in her grandfather’s ballroom.

Naran thought back to it, too. It was harder now to recall some of the details since most of the night had been overtaken by memories of Hyungwon, but she did recall avoiding every corner of the room the Kazan prince occupied just so she didn’t have to come up with another reason to refuse him.

“I should have just married him. At least then I would have been close to home.”

The prince pouted his lower lip, and Naran’s attention couldn’t help but shoot to it—her husband did have an unfairly pretty mouth.

“But,” Hyungwon objected, “all you would have for dinner every night is beets and cabbage. We eat much better in Goryeo.”

At that, Naran burst out laughing. “You truly do. Beets and cabbage… Never thought about that. I’ll drink to that.”

The princess tipped back her glass again, and Hyungwon drained his, too.

“You know,” she said, biting her lip and leaning farther across the table than she normally would have, “you’re way too pretty. I don’t like your face.”

The corner of his mouth quirked. “You don’t?”

“I do not! Even when I want to tell you to go far away from me, I cannot. It makes it very hard for me to hate you.”

“Why do you need to hate me?”

“Because if I don’t hate you, then I have to admit I have in some way accepted the man who took me away from everything I love.”

Hyungwon was quiet for a moment as he busied himself with two fresh pours. He downed his immediately while Naran watched him in confusion.

“I’m sorry, Princess.”

“There’s no point in apologizing now.”

The prince kept his head down though he shook it gently. “You misunderstand. I’m not sorry that you’re by my side now, but I am sorry for what it cost you. Maybe that’s what I’m sorrier about than anything. It’s the closest I’ve ever come to becoming my father, yet I can’t regret it because you’re here now… with me.”

Naran’s hand trembled, and she misjudged the desk when she reeled back and splashed liquor all over the wood, but there was no time to care, not when the prince was staring at her so openly with such flushed, wet lips.

“I should slap you for such an insulting apology,” she said.

Hyungwon waited, perhaps for the justified blow, but Naran’s hand didn’t move.

Instead, her voice dropped as her eyes slid to the mirror where their reflections danced in the candelabra flames.

“Why did you even need me anyway? If you wanted someone to be your friend, you had a line as long as your borders. Anyone would have been a better choice for you than I am. Why did you pick the one person who thinks of marriage as the forfeiture of all freedom?”

“What is so wrong with depending on someone? I've lived my whole life without it. It isn't freedom,” replied the prince, his eyes falling to his glass. “It's a prison of loneliness.”

He knocked back the drink without so much as a wince. Somehow, as he hunched over his desk, his smooth edges blurred even further and begged her to reach out.

Naran ran her fingertip around the lip of her glass as guilt and something even more intimidating rippled through her.

“Aren’t you lonely, too?” he asked in a gruff whisper.

“It's not loneliness I feel but bitterness.”

The prince scoffed. “Of course, it is... My father was right. I am a fool.”

“You could have had anyone, my lord. As grateful as I am for the protection of my people, you didn't owe Moghulikhan anything. Why did you have to choose me?”

“I guess you can't help how you feel,” he lamented.

Panic set her heart on fire. “How do you—”

The prince cut her off with a frantic look. “Which is why I know I'm asking for the impossible, but please, for my sake, Princess, can you tell me just one thing you like about me because I can’t stand another day thinking I married someone who despises me?”

“I don’t despise you,” Naran admitted softly. “I’m not sure anyone could.”

Flashes of adoring faces from every room he had ever entered stormed through her mind, the thin-eyed, bitten-lip women clinging most tenaciously to her memories. The princess downed her last shot to chase them away.

“But you don’t like me either,” Hyungwon finished.

The couple’s gazes could not waver from one another, no matter how hard Naran fought to sever their connection.

Your eyes talk to one another…

At the memory of Magda’s words, something uncoiled in the princess’s chest and snaked through her body.

There was much about her husband Naran admired. Hyungwon listened. He defended her. He upheld his promises. But he might interpret any one of those things to mean more than just appreciation for someone she respected. Best to stick to something superficial, she thought.

As desperate to fill the Moghulikhan-sized hole in her heart as she was to avoid the dejection in her husband’s voice, the princess reached across the ocean of his desk. She held her breath, her hand frozen as though anything further would trigger a trip wire that could fundamentally rearrange everything between them.

Naran bit her lip.

“I like this little freckle here,” she said as her fingertip glanced across the pinprick dot on the side of his nose.

Hyungwon stiffened at her touch though his mouth slackened.

“And this one, too,” she continued. This time, it was her thumb that pressed on the tawny freckle dead center on his bottom lip. “I like it a lot.”

In the end, she gave away too much of herself. The prince now knew how carefully she had mapped his face. Even though a wife didn’t need a reason to look at her husband, Naran thought that maybe she should have chosen anything else. His silky hair, his expressive eyes, his proud shoulders—

Only then Naran realized she was still touching his lips.

Hyungwon kissed the pad of her thumb and her breath hitched. She yanked back her hand and tried to quash its shaking by sitting on it, but she felt the vibrations all the way up her arm even then.

“Thank you,” he muttered as he looked away at last.

Naran’s skin was aflame as she busied herself divining shapes from the inky blobs on the prince’s blotter.

“How about one final drink?” he suggested.

“Okay.”

Hyungwon poured to the rim this time, but before they could drink, out came the things that had occupied the princess’s thoughts all day as she had stared blankly in her room. “So, what happens now that everyone has gone?”

“What do you mean?”

“I believe I’m supposed to spend my days apart from yours.”

“Oh…” His eyes fell to the liquid fire in his glass. “Yes, I’m sure a princess has as much to occupy her time as a prince does.”

“So, as far as ensuring heirs, shall we establish some kind of schedule then?”

At this, Hyungwon’s face soured as the princess had never seen before. “A schedule— Does it always have to be about heirs between us? Am I not allowed to just want you sometimes, too?”

Want me? Naran thought, absolutely incredulous. Beyond the bounds of our contract?

“It is best if we keep feelings out of these things, your highness,” she answered with an embarrassingly shaky voice.

“Who’s talking about feelings? Was it ever about love with any of the others you've been with?”

“No,” she admitted.

Both lovers had been handsome, forward, and uncomplicated. Words were rarely exchanged. They had taken her at first opportunity—in alleys or the stables and once in the grass. Before her wedding night, Naran had never even had sex in a bed. And the other thing those lovers had had in common? After a few meetings, they were gone from her life. But the princess could not outrun the prince. For better or worse, they were in each other’s lives forever.

Hyungwon looked as forthright as ever as he asked, “Then shouldn’t I be able to say that I desire you as a man desires a woman? If you let them, why can’t you let me?”

Naran downed her last drink, and in her rush, a bit wept from the corner of her mouth. She licked her lips and then the corner, and there was no missing the way the prince’s eyes followed her tongue.

“Do you think,” he said slowly, “you could ever desire me?”

In the perfect silence of the empty wing, the princess could hear her every breath. It was too fast, too ragged.

“Yes.”

The air was electrified. Every hair on her arms stood on end. Somewhere outside, a dog bayed at the late summer moon.

At once, Hyungwon sent the glasses and bottle tumbling to the carpet with a thud and a splash. He kicked back his chair as he shot up to circle the desk. Naran had to crane her head to look up at the towering frame of her husband until she found his heavy eyes. Without a word, he scooped her out of her chair. The princess yelped, her hands flinging around his neck as he spun the pair of them to the now-empty desk. The smell of alcohol and something spicier swirled around them. He leaned toward her lips before catching himself at the last second, and whatever gentleness had lingered in those eyes fled entirely.

The prince was nothing but dark lusts now.

To Naran’s surprise, Hyungwon sat her on the edge of his desk, and between the cold wood and the loss of his scorching body, she shivered. It only worsened when she felt his fingers at the knot of her belt, and seconds later, her robe fell open to expose the thin white silk of her nightgown.

Hyungwon didn’t say anything. He simply stooped over to kiss the column of her throat with ravenous lips. The princess gasped and tipped her head to the side to give him more skin to taste. He was quick to cover the new ground as his hand traced up her frame to her covered breast where he toyed with the soft mound beneath. Naran’s body responded with both a desperate moan and a tightening nipple aching for his fingers to shower it with attention.

It was easy to descend into hedonism with him. Though the alcohol had burned away her resentment, Naran was still heartbroken and angry and tired of feeling both. Hyungwon, though, was warm and real and determined to transport her out of the grayness she’d been mired in, as much for her as for himself evidently.

“Is this—ah—is this for the throne?” she said through her gasps, but Hyungwon shook his head.

“Not tonight. This is for my wife.”

The princess let out a little cry as she felt the familiar tingle between her thighs. In a matter of a few words, her body was tuned to his.

Before Naran could process it, Hyungwon had dropped to his knees. With the utmost care, he eased the satin slippers from each of her feet before his fingers played about her naked ankles. There, he traced the hills and valleys along her heels and, once they were mapped, his hands glided along the flare of her calves. With his every touch, little sparklers alighted in her head and heart.

The higher his hands climbed, so did the hem of her gown. Cold air rushed under the fabric, and by the time Hyungwon had bared her knees, the princess was begging for the relief from the rush of heat to her core. Leisurely, he parted her legs, and with every inch, the princess felt a little more frantic and a little more self-conscious. Once he had spread her knees as far as the desk would allow, they quivered and threatened to close again.

“Trust me, my princess,” said the prince in his rich velvet.

“I’ve never—” Against her will, Naran’s voice shook. “I’ve never had anyone so close to me there before.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

Naran held her breath. She was scared and overwhelmed and painfully aware of her body, but Hyungwon showed no sign of hesitation or second thoughts. With a shaky exhale, she admitted, “I don’t want you to.”

“Then I won’t. Not until you beg me to.”

Her husband turned his attention to one of her knees and placed his lips there. It wasn’t exactly a kiss, more like a caress with the tender skin of his mouth, back and forth in soothing waves. Occasionally, his tongue would gloss along her flesh and only then would he seal his ministration with a true kiss. With one knee bathed in his adoration, he switched to the other.

Just as Naran slouched against the desk, Hyungwon moved his mouth to her mid-thigh, and this time, he sucked the responsive skin there until she arched up with a howl. He released her, and when he pulled back, the princess saw a dark mark on the once-unblemished peachy flesh. Instantly, wanton desire trickled at her sex, begging for attention he wasn’t yet ready to give.

Hyungwon nudged his new brand with the tip of his nose before he kissed it and then placed a twin mark alongside it. He kept indulging her with his tongue until the princess was nearly ready to explode.

“Oh, please! More, my prince. Please,” Naran pleaded.

The prince broke his seal at last and shifted his gaze up to hers. He charted the sag of her jaw and the peek of her tongue lolling at the corner of her mouth, and he smiled. “More?”

“Higher!” she demanded.

Hyungwon gathered her nightgown at her hips, the fabric drooping in front of her center in a last-ditch effort of modesty but sparing nothing else for her prince’s imagination. Here, he kissed and nibbled every surrounding inch of virgin skin until Naran’s thighs shook with the foreplay and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She let out a sob of frustration, and it garnered all his attention.

Their eyes met, hers even heavier-lidded than his. Through the well of tears at her lashes, Hyungwon’s face splintered into a kaleidoscope of ethereal beauty.

“Don’t cry, my darling,” soothed the prince.

He hoisted up the last of the gown over her hips and exposed her core for him.

“Let me treat you like the princess you are.”

Naran held her breath and collapsed onto the desk, too embarrassed to watch.

She felt a kiss at the juncture of her thigh and lip followed by another mirrored on the opposite side. It was feather-light and unbearably sensual, but it was only the prelude to a new and unforgettable kind of kiss. With pulse-pounding pressure, Hyungwon raked his flush bottom lip up along her seam to kiss the hardening button peeking through, and as good as that felt, it only intensified with a second pass, this one featuring the flat of his tongue.

Naran’s moan made way for a pathetic whine. Her legs squeezed against the onslaught of pleasure, so Hyungwon curled his fingers around the meat of her thighs to keep her at his mercy.

He took his work seriously, keeping his rhythm consistent save for the swirl he would occasionally surprise her with around her straining bud. In those moments, the princess saw stars.

When her eyes finally opened, she found her head had lolled to the side, and there she found her husband’s reflection glowing, not just by tangerine flame but by something softer and even more shimmery. Hyungwon felt her gaze, and his mouth lifted from her only to be replaced by his middle finger easing deep into her pinkness. He turned toward the mirror to catch her eyes there, and slowly, he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh that deepened until she felt yet another delicious burn on her skin.

“How pretty my little star looks writhing on my desk,” Hyungwon murmured, and then suckled a little higher to adorn more of her skin with his black marks of desire.

His finger moved slowly in her walls, coaxing forth ripples of ecstasy Naran had never felt before. Each stroke was deliberate and far, far too measured to do anything but keep her on the precipice of climax. It was heaven. It was hell.

“So tight,” Hyungwon hummed, and she whimpered. “So delicious. You’re totally at my mercy now, aren’t you?"

Naran couldn’t answer, but she knew he wasn’t looking for that anyway. Her legs tightened at his illicit words. Between her husband’s praise and his intimacy, she squirmed for him.

He brought his lips back to the cherry blossom at her sex, and when they closed around it to suckle, the princess keened low and long. The pressure was relentless and just right to make her forget anything that wasn’t Chae Hyungwon. Her hips bucked, but he used his free hand to hold her down while the other continued to stoke the fire inside her.

“Do you like when I spoil you like this?” he asked as he came up for air.

“Yes… Yes, yes, yes!” Naran answered. “But I want more. Faster!”

“How many times have you called me lazy, hm? Maybe I just want to take my time, to feast on you and show you what a sweet indulgence laziness can be.”

To her horror, Hyungwon removed his finger, leaving her core seizing around nothing. Tears sprang to her eyes in desperation, and she sat up on her elbows to gape at the man who was abandoning her just as her addiction had mounted to frenetic levels.

“You can’t—” she protested, but he just smiled, smug and scheming all at once.

When he dove back in, he focused on one fold and then the other, with long strokes of his tongue before pulling each one at a time into his mouth. Every nerve ending tingled. Every inch of skin yearned for more of his attention.

“Put your hands in my hair,” he mumbled between her legs, and Naran’s fingers raced into his locks.

It felt so good to hold his head in her hands. Her nails raked against his scalp before she took to tugging on the glossy strands. Hyungwon purred contentedly as he licked up the mess continuously leaking from her sex, and the noisier he was, the harder it made the princess shake until she realized she was grinding herself on his face. Mortified, she unwound her fingers from his locks as she mumbled an apology.

“I didn’t tell you to let me go,” Hyungwon scolded, and when she opened her eyes, she found him looking up at her with a chin covered in arousal and eyes fixed with determination.

It was clear he had no intention of finishing the job unless she caved to his wishes, so Naran ran her hands back through his bangs to bare his smooth brow. The prince’s eyes closed as he leaned into her grip, and it was so tender, that she thought her heart might burst, but if she stopped, he would stop, and she couldn’t bear the thought again.

Hyungwon’s finger was back at her core now with the addition of another. Together, they traced her entrance, and every time she thought he would enter her again, he deprived her of the gratification. It was the purest torture of her life, and Naran could barely stand it. Her need for her husband had reached embarrassing levels too terrifying to admit.

At last, two fingers glided into her wet and ready indecency, sending her arching up from the desk with a wail.

“It's so much!” she said between heavy pants.

“Too much?”

“Not enough!”

Hyungwon smiled as he picked up speed at last, stretching her walls with every thrust to his knuckles. Luscious coos of gratitude spilled from Naran’s lips as she took his fingers greedily. He knew just how to reach the parts inside of her that responded most ferociously, and in moments, she was teetering over the edge she’d been standing on forever.

His fingers pistoned within her now, churning up filthy sounds that brought color to the princess’s cheeks and hunger to the prince’s eyes.

“I can’t—breathe,” Naran gasped pathetically. “I’m begging you please! Please. I want to let go!”

Hyungwon groaned and dove back to her heat again. His mouth sealed around her pulsing button now as he sucked and flicked his tongue against her until she thought she might go mad. He slipped both of her legs over his shoulders and pressed against her with single-minded resolve to make her forget everything that wasn’t him.

She risked a glance at him, and things got fuzzy fast. His elegant face was framed between the softness of her thighs, his nose bumping against her mound and his eyes shuttered with conviction. Her hand cupped the back of his head as her hips couldn’t stop themselves from driving into his mouth.

And then those wicked eyes opened, locking on hers.

Bliss ripped through Naran with catastrophic devastation. Every muscle within her shook as her lungs constricted and her walls pulsed. Her heels dug into her husband’s back as her thighs clamped around his head, nearly suffocating him.

Here, on a desk where armies were commanded and laws were enforced, the princess came undone with a racking cry.

But, true to his word, Hyungwon wasn’t done.

He kept his fingers thrusting into her quaking walls as one climax ended and another threatened, only this one felt unbearable and impossible. The pleasure was too intense, and her hips tried to run from him as though they were afraid of such unfathomable ecstasy.

Naran’s mind emptied. Even through winched eyes, tears slipped down her cheeks.

“I can’t take it, oh!” she wailed.

“Yes, you can, darling,” he assured. “Just a little more, I know you can.”

“My pr— Yes, I—”

The tip of his tongue flicked her swollen bud again, fast this time and with no restraint. As her vision whitened, Naran clawed the desk, no doubt leaving scratches in the impeccable veneer. There wasn’t a muscle in her body that didn’t seize then.

Another swirl of his tongue and a long, fierce suckle, and she was gone.

She thought she might have screamed, but she might have lost any senses that weren’t solely centered on the exquisite decadence between her thighs.

She collapsed then, whimpering, the last of her strength focusing on her heel to push him back by the shoulder.

“Please, no more,” she whimpered, absolutely deflated. “I beg you.”

“As you wish, my darling. Feel better?” he asked as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pulled her gown back down her legs.

“You’re—wow,” Naran stammered. “You’re really good at that.”

Something fanged and slippery snaked through her chest at the thought of all the practice he had required to become so skilled, but with one glance at his eyes now buoyed by a soft smile, it tempered.

“Do you need help getting up?” he asked.

“You’re not going to—to take me?” the princess asked incredulously.

“I told you tonight wasn’t about the throne. All I wanted was to make you feel good, my lady. Was I successful?”

Naran narrowed her eyes at him. She could tell by the way his tongue probed his cheek and his chest puffed that the man was keenly aware of just how thoroughly he had devastated his wife. His smug confidence was as appealing as it was infuriating.

“You were,” she admitted carefully.

“It was a pleasure to serve you then, my lady. So, that’s a no to the help?”

“No,” she insisted, though as soon as she put her toes back to the ground, she wobbled and stumbled back against the desk. “Yes.”

Hyungwon snickered and helped guide Naran back into the chair, where she slumped instantly. Alcohol mixed with the chaser of ecstasy to keep the room spinning around her, so she closed her eyes while her breathing steadied. Images of her body writhing in the mirror while her husband kneeled between her legs insisted on flashing in her mind, and a sigh tumbled out of her to her absolute mortification.

“You all right?” he asked with a grin evident in his voice.

“Just fine,” she answered immediately, waving him off.

While Naran lounged in the chair, the prince picked up the glasses and bottle from the floor, and something surprisingly boastful of her own bubbled in her heart.

“I don’t think the Emperor of Champa would appreciate our use of his gift,” she laughed.

“Maybe I should write to him to thank him again?”

At the seriousness in the prince’s voice, the princess shot up in her seat. “Don’t you dare, sire!”

“And what are you going to do to stop me?”

This time, Hyungwon was unmistakably provoking her, and Naran bit her lip. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she said she held her liquor well, but when his playful side came out, it always made her feel drunker than she really was.

“You better not,” she warned, “or, next time, you drink alone.”

At this, Hyungwon pouted. “Didn’t I make this worth your while?”

Naran shrugged a shoulder as casually as she could manage. “Maybe this is slightly better than what I was doing…”

“And maybe this was a little for me, too,” he admitted, “because now I will think of you every time they force me in here to do work I don’t want to do. Instead, I’ll think of someone I’d rather be doing.”

“My lord!” Naran cried, indignant, as she cinched her robe tight to her throat again, and Hyungwon laughed in his carefree, spirit-lifting way.

“You’re very fun to tease, my lady.”

“And you’re very annoying, my lord.”

“How are you feeling? Are you ready to return to your room?”

Naran pressed her lips together as she considered more than just her husband’s question. When they had come here, she had been determined to keep him as far from her room as possible, but now, the understanding that she would be going back solo was more disheartening than she thought. Maybe she was lonelier than she realized.

“I think so,” she answered though.

“Then I shall see you back, Princess.”

Naran rose on still-shaky legs to join her husband in the hallway, and slowly, they made their way back toward their building. They chatted idly about their schedules for the week, his filled with meetings and diplomatic engagements while most of her obligations involved goodwill ambassadorship with the empress. It may not have been anything she had wanted for her life, but it was less onerous than she thought. Of course, maybe that was also colored by her tipsy, post-full body release daze.

Just then, Naran stumbled and caught herself against the wall. Hyungwon let out the briefest of chuckles before he stopped them both and swept her up into the basket of his arms to her yelp.

“I can manage on my own,” she protested, swatting at his arm behind her knees.

“Of course, my lady, but it's taking a very long time, and I would like to get to my room before sun-up.”

She scoffed. “Please. You're never in a hurry to get anywhere. You just wanted to show how strong you are.”

“You think I'm strong?” he echoed, but she could tell by the flex in his voice that she was on target.

Naran folded her hands defiantly in her lap even though she would have felt far stabler if she’d wrapped them behind the prince’s neck.

“You do not appreciate help, do you?” Hyungwon pressed.

“I would if I truly needed it. Are you sure you don't just like playing the savior?”

“I wouldn't say ‘just.’ Perhaps one day I hope you might need me back.”

Back?

“Besides,” he added, “I don’t mind an excuse to have your arms around me.”

“They're not—” With horror, Naran realized that her body had betrayed her, and, at some point, she had knotted her hands behind his neck after all, and worse yet, she could not will them back to her lap. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Too late,” said Hyungwon with a grin.

“After this, I feel rather badly about kicking you out of my room so quickly the other night,” she admitted reluctantly. “Perhaps next time I will not be so rash.”

“Thank you, Princess,” was all he said, though he was smiling smugly to himself again.

At last, they reached their wing, and the prince put his wife down at her doorstep, though he waited there awkwardly as neither of them seemed to know what to say.

“Thank you for coming out with me tonight,” he said into the silence. “I know you didn’t want to.”

Naran kept her eyes on her slippered feet as she replied, “Thank you for asking. Truly, I am glad I went.”

“You are?”

At the hope in his voice, her eyes shot up to find his waiting, dark as always but with none of his particular brand of blackness that made her wary of his designs. This time, the darkness was inviting—and in many ways, that made it all the more dangerous.

Hyungwon took a step forward. Naran took one back. Her spine was flush to her door, and she could feel the carvings digging through the thin fabric of her robe. His hand flattened on the panel beside her face as he leaned down.

His breath blazed in the shell of her ear as he whispered, “Please think well of me, my lady. After all, we only have each other now.”

With that, Hyungwon kissed his wife’s cheek and bid her goodnight before he disappeared through his own bedroom door.

[ewesie]

Climates of Hyrule: Hebra Through The Seasons pt.1

Summer

Hebra during Summer is the best time to visit. Mountaineers, painters, writers and people from all across the Kingdom enjoy Hebra. It is a respite from some of the other regions that are either inhospitable to delicate life of too humid to stomach. Many draw inspiration from its sprawling valleys and high reaching peaks.

Snow recedes from valleys and gentle slopes, revealing a wealth of life that has been hidden for a majority of the year.

In the lower altitudes like the Tabantha Snowfield, the snow melt has given way to alpine meadows. The short lush grasses are dotted with wildflowers in all shades of colors. From hues of vivid oranges to soft delicate violet, they peek out between the grasses. Some hang over small streams, carved away by the Spring melt.

As the snow from higher altitudes continues to melt under the Summer's warm embrace, streams, fed from cascading waterfalls, crisscross the valley meadows. Rivers carved over centuries and millennia flow freely thanks to the Summer melt and higher temperatures. It brings life along its currents.

Wildlife that would normally shy away from Hebra's intense winters emerge from their dens and nests. They enjoy the bounty of what Summer offers, even though it may be short. They sun themselves on boulders and outcroppings of rocks and they frolic among the trees that have awakened from their winter slumber.

Even in Summer, the air still has a bite to it as it flows down from the mountainous region and into the lowlands. The trees are hardy, unbending as they spread their broad leaves in the warm sun. Oaks, chestnut, birch and Hebra maple are among the few deciduous trees that call the region home.

Between the meadows and slopes are fields of boulders and outcroppings of rock. Goron are attracted to them, and they can be found in those fields and among rocky scrambles. They pick apart the boulders searching for the most delectable pieces of earth. Though they never stray too far into the mountains.

Despite the wealth of life during the Summer months, the higher altitudes refuse to shed their thick blankets of snow. Many alpinists take this opportunity to put their skills to the test. Camps full of adventurers and free spirits dot the high altitudes of Hebra.

It has been found that Rito make excellent porters and mountain guides. Where they really excel is in search and rescue. It is not uncommon to see teams of colorful Rito carrying the injured down from the peaks. Along with barely a handful of Hylians living in Hebra, they maintain and set up pathways of rope for climbers. Wooden bridges span deep crevasses, allowing those passage even deeper into the mountains.

Rito see an influx of visitors during the Summer months. Their village at times can be packed with curious Hylians and Gerudo who wish to try their hand at fletching or archery. Zora enjoy the cool waters of lake Totori, having gotten there from underground waterways only available during the warm weather.

Even though it is short, Summer is enjoyed to the fullest in Hebra. It brings joy and life during its brief moments until it is inevitably reclaimed by the snow that begins in Autumn.

[sempiternal-meridians]

“Over the last decade, I have learned to appreciate the textures and rhythms of the later months of the year. Russet is the color of November in Maine. The color that emerges when all the more spectacular leaves have fallen: the yellow coins of the white birch, the big, hand-shaped crimson leaves of the red maple, the papery pumpkin-hued spears of the beech trees. The oaks are always the last to shed their plumage, and their leaves are the dullest color. They’re the darkest, the closest to brown. But if you pay attention, you’ll see that they’re actually quite pretty. Russet is a subtle color, complicated by undertones of orange and purple. Indeed, according to some color wheel systems, “russet” is the name given to the tertiary color created by mixing those two secondary colors. Its only companions in this category are slate (made from purple and green) and citron (made from green and yellow). Like russet, citron and slate occur often in the natural world. Our Earth is a blue marble if you get far enough away, but from up close, it’s so very brown, so often gray. This may explain why many cultures think of russet and similar dull reds as neutral hues, akin to the monochrome scale of white, black, and the innumerable shades between. True reds, the crimsons and vermilions and scarlets, have historically been associated with fire, blood, and power. In Red: The History of a Color, Michel Pastoureau explains that, for thousands of years, red was “the only true color.” He continues, “as much on the chronological as hierarchical level, it outstripped all others.” In ancient Greece, high priests and priestesses dressed in crimson, as did (they imagined) the gods themselves. In contrast, the dull reds, the brown reds, have been understood as “emblematic of peasantry and impoverishment,” claims Victoria Finlay in An Atlas of Rare & Familiar Colour. Finlay files red ocher among the browns—the ruddy pigment used in the caves of Lascaux—which is perhaps where it belongs. Perhaps that’s where russet belongs, too. […] It seems likely that russet, as a word, is an offshoot of red (Old French rousset from Latin russus, “reddish”). But russet means more than red-like, red-adjacent. Russet also means rustic, homely, rough. It also evokes mottled, textured, coarse. The word describes a quality of being that can affect people as well as vegetables. Apples can be russet, when they have brown patches on their skin. Potatoes famously are russet; their skin often has that strange texture that makes it impossible to tell where the earth ends and the root begins. There are russet birds and russet horses—it’s an earthy word that fits comfortably on many creatures. For Shakespeare, it was a color of poverty and prudence, mourning and morning. In Love’s Labour’s Lost, Biron imagines a life without the finer things, without silks and taffeta, a life of sacrifice undertaken to prove his love. The color of his penance? Russet. “and I here protest, By this white glove;—how white the hand, God knows!— Henceforth my wooing mind shall be express’d In russet yeas and honest kersey noes: And, to begin, wench,—so God help me, la!— My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.” Just a few decades after this was written, in a country not too far away, Peter Paul Rubens was painting with brilliant crimson and shocking vermilion. Rubens was a devout Roman Catholic, a religion that embraced sumptuous fabrics and rich colors. A generation later, another northern painter would rise to prominence: Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn. While Catholic Rubens loved shocking reds, rich blues, and even sunny yellows, Protestant Rembrandt painted with a far more restrained palette. Many of his most famous paintings (including his self portraits) are predominantly brown and gray. And when he did use color, Rembrandt very often reached for russet, auburn, fulvous, and tawny. Reds that leaned brown, and browns that leaned red. Sometimes, he brought in a splash of crimson to tell the viewer where they should focus (the vibrant sash in Night Watch, the cloaks in Prodigal Son), and sometimes he let soft, misty yellow light bathe his bucolic landscapes. His work was earthy, imbued with the quiet chill of early November […]” — Katy Kelleher, “Russet, the Color of Peasants, Fox Fur, and Penance” from The Paris Review

[abirpothi]

Grandma Moses: Acclaimed Self-Taught ‘Primitive’ Artist Who Started Painting In Her Late Seventies

Grandma Moses: A journey shows that age is not a bar for learning. In her late seventies, she decided to take up painting which was easier on her hands, as compared to needlework. She made her first painting using house paint. Her work was later displayed in museums and gained appreciation and fame from well-known artists.

On this day, 7th of September, 1860, Anna Mary Robertson Moses was born in Greenwich, New York, US. She was the third of ten children born to Russell King Robertson, a farmer, and Margaret Shannahan. Due to the lack of warm clothes, Anna Moses attended school only in the summer. At the age of 12 she left home to work as a hired farm girl. At the age of 26, while working for James Family she met Thomas Moses in 1886. The two fell in love and got married the next year. The couple moved to Virginia where they rented farms and worked the land. Anna gave birth to ten children but five of them died as babies. After some years Thomas became homesick, so he asked his wife to move back towards the north. Eventually they returned to New York and bought a farm there. By this time, Anna was called Mother Moses. She was skilled at various tasks and enjoyed doing needlework such as sewing and embroidering. With needle and thread she would make pictures on fabric, but she had developed arthritis, which made it painful for her to push the needle with through the fabric. In her late seventies, she decided to take up painting which was easier on her hands, as compared to needlework. She made her first painting using house paint.

Due to the artist being self-taught her paintings display a lack of nuanced application of Western painting conventions. For this reason, she is categorized as a ‘primitive’ or ‘naïve’ painter under art scholarship, terms synonymous with ‘outsider artist’. Moses’s journey shows that age is not a bar for learning, and that if you’re truly passionate about something, you can reap the rewards of your efforts at any age. Many of Moses’s paintings drew directly from her own life — mainly scenes from the landscape around her. In 1938, her paintings were displayed at a local drug store where an art collector Louis J. Caldor saw them and bought them all for a few dollars each. He inquired about the painter, contacted Moses and bought ten more paintings directly from her. He then arranged to have three of them shown at the New York Museum of Modern Art at an exhibition titled ‘Contemporary Unknown American Painters’, where they attracted wide public attention, leading to her fame. The works were also spotted by the Austrian-American art historian Otto Kallir at the exhibition, and he was highly appreciative of their inherent folk quality. Pleased with her work, Otto curated first solo show titled, ‘What A Farm Wife Painted’ in 1940 at the Galerie St. Etienne in New York. It was at this show that a reporter gave her the nickname, ‘Grandma Moses’.

The New York Times said of her the following: “The simple realism, nostalgic atmosphere and luminous color with which Grandma Moses portrayed simple farm life and rural countryside won her a wide following. She was able to capture the excitement of winter’s first snow, Thanksgiving preparations and the new, young green of oncoming spring… In person, Grandma Moses charmed wherever she went. A tiny, lively woman with mischievous gray eyes and a quick wit, she could be sharp-tongued with a sycophant and stern with an errant grandchild.”

Most of the artist’s paintings depicted scenes from upstate New York and Vermont. Several paintings show a particular ’checkered house’. She painted many scenes depicting farm life. Her paintings told stories about making apple butter, making soap and maple syrup, husking corn, and making candles. ‘The Quilting Bee’ shows how women would meet and visit while they made quilts.

Grandma Moses was awarded two honorary doctoral degrees. The first was bestowed in 1949 by Russell Sage College and the second, two years later by the Moore College of Art and Design. She passed away on December 13, 1961, in a medical center in Hoosick Falls, New York. Her works are included in the collections of the Art Institute of Chicago, the Phillips Collection in Washington, D.C., the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, and the Bennington Museum in Vermont. Her work ‘Sugaring Off’ sold at Christie’s New York ‘Important American Paintings’ in 2006 for $1,360,000.

In her autobiographical book Grandma Moses: My Life’s History (1951), the artist testified to the incredible strength and determination to fulfill her own life. She said, “I have written my life in small sketches, a little today, a little yesterday, as I have thought of it, as I remember all the things from childhood on through the years, good ones, and unpleasant ones, that is how they come out and that is how we have to take them. I look back on my life like a good day’s work, it was done and I am satisfied with it. I was happy and content, I knew nothing better and made the best out of what life offered. And life is what we make it, always has been, always will be.”

So, if you think you are too old to pursue your dreams, think of Grandma Moses, and know in your heart it may not be too late for you.

[journeydb]

May 18 2023 Boulder County

Happy First Birthday, Maple! She was delighted to receive this tricycle and I was happy that Katie sent me a picture of her riding it. We are grateful that our little granddaughter completed her first pass around the sun today with a history of a very healthy and happy life so far!

Bruce and I made a video that I sent to Katie saying Happy Birthday to Maple and we'll say it in person in a few days. Katie and Hobie wanted to spend today alone with her, which is understandable.

I really love my little study in the wing of our house on the other side of the meditation garden. It gives me my own space to work, write, ruminate, and meditate, and now it's also where Matilda lives because she still hasn't become comfortable with our "kittens", who have grown up to be pretty big cats.

While I'm not really much of a painter, there was a time when I took "Passion painting" classes and I loved the experience, which seemed more like art therapy than anything else. It was during one of the more challenging times of my life and the painting helped to keep me sane. I was also reading "My Geisha" at the time and that inspired the painting that hangs on the wall of my study, just above my grandmother's rocking chair, which is one of the only things of hers that I am lucky to still have.

I also had fun painting this jungle scene, with all the animals, including snakes, monkeys, butterlies, and spiders. The kangaroo mother represents me and the little joey in her pouch represents Hobie. It fits well with the wooden banana tree we brought back from Bali many years ago.

This afternoon my friend, Virginia, and I did a site visit to HomeAhead at St. Andrews Presbyterian Church and spent time with their Executive Director, Mary, and the chair of their board and founder of the organization, Joe. Virginia and I are on the Board Development Resource Team at Social Venture Partners and we signed up to help Mary and Joe by training their board on the responsibilities of board members and the best practices of effective boards.

HomeAhead is a truly unique nonprofit organization and I'm happy for the chance to work with them. They collect and provide household necessities to formerly unhoused residents of our community when they move into apartments provided by other organizations which work with this population. HomeAhead provides furniture, bedding, tableware, and other things which help turn the apartments into homes for their clients.

We toured the big storage space on the grounds of St. Andrews, which is only one of four they have in various locations and then we went into the church to see the rooms which were completely full of housewares.

Virginia and I will work on our presentation this week to be prepared to present it at the HomeAhead board meeting next week. I'm grateful for this opportunity to help build capacity at one of my now favorite nonprofits in Boulder County.

[gtahomeservice]

Easiest way to find Interior Home Painting Services Richmond Hill

Most of the time, people put off painting their homes until after festivals, holidays, or vacations. At GTA Home Service, we advise against expecting the unexpected and instead to cherish every moment spent at home. After all, home is where you go to find comfort and serenity after a busy and tiresome day. You allocate more time with your family at home than you do outside. The quickest, simplest, and least expensive way to change the entire appearance of your house is to paint the walls. Your house will look unique with a new coat of paint. Consequently, hiring professional painters to paint your house is the best thing to do for quality of work. Painting your house is another type of basic maintenance you can perform. The best thing you could do to restore the look of your interior is hiring interior home painting services Richmond Hill from the biggest portal for home service in Canada – GTA Home Service. For more details click: https://www.gtahomeservice.ca/services/interior-home-painting-services/

[wishyouweredead]

How to Buy a Sofa

Before you set out to buy your new sofa, decide on the style. Go online and do some research by visiting furniture store websites. This will help you get an idea of what you’d like click here to learn more and what is in style. Availability isn’t an issue at this point; it will just help point you in the right direction.

Take a look at the space where the sofa will go and determine the size that is right for the space.  Measure you existing sofa—including length,How to Buy a Sofa Articlesspread of arms, height at the highest back, and width of the seating area.  Do you have room for a large puffy sofa or do you only have room for a small scale love seat?  When you find a sofa you like, measure it and use painter’s tape to block out the size on your floor at home.  Check to see if all traffic ways still work and if it doesn’t overpower the room or seem too small.

Think of the function. How many people will use the sofa? How often will it be used? Are children going to be using the sofa?  Consider if a hide-a-bed or futon is suitable for your lifestyle. Also remember that it is easier and cheaper to paint the room than it is to buy a new sofa or to have it reupholstered.  Select a pattern or color that will stay current for the life of the sofa and will suit any décor.  Trends are fun but never last that long, so think long-term when buying a large piece of furniture.  You can add in accessories and pillows that easily change, to give a splash of color and update more regularly than getting a new sofa.

When you are ready to start shopping for your new sofa, keep these factors in mind:

1. The frame of the sofa should be strong.  Try to find a frame that is made from kiln-dried hardwood, such as, oak, maple, birch, or alder.  High quality hardwood, plywood, or marine plywood is also a durable substitute.  The corners of the sofa should also be reinforced with wooden blocks, which are blocks glued to the frame at various stress points to add strength.

2. When choosing your sofa ask about the springs.  The more springs there are, the cushier the sofa.  This comes with a cost but it also means quality and durability.  Also, ask if the springs are hand tied or machine tied—hand tied are stronger and tend to stay in place better.  Make sure the back of the sofa has springs as well.

3. The next step is the filling.  Look for a filling such as foam, cotton, polyester, down, fibre, or a combination of these, which will be the most comfortable; the denser the filling, the more comfortable the sofa.  Better quality foam will have a density rating of 1.8 to 2.5, which will be something you will have to ask the sales person.

4. Choose the upholstery that suits your family’s needs the best.  This is where you need to think of who will be using it.  If you have young children, grandchildren or pets, you need a fabric that will stand up to the wear and tear of everyday life.  Linen, cotton, wool, and silk are popular natural upholstery options.  Leather is the most durable and easy to maintain.  However, new synthetic materials are also great choices; they are durable and stain resistant.  Also, avoid sofas that use staples to attach fabric, as they will loosen or even rip over time—hot glue is a better choice.

[pressurewashingbc]

How to Find a Good Home Service Provider

A home is not just bricks and cement for the owners but it is a realization of their dreams and hopes. That is why, it is important for all of us to carry out home maintenance work or home improvement work regularly. A well maintained home is a tangible asset for us and if we do not find time to do home cleaning ourselves we must take the help of local service providers to do the job for us.

Local service providers offer almost all services that you require to maintain a good home and reduce your work load. Many local companies have sprung up in recent times as the need of the hour for most couples is to find someone who will take care of their home as if it's their own. These cleaning service providers not only arrange for maid service for your home but also arrange for plumbers, painters, electricians etc. Pressure Washing Near Me

The internet has made the hunt for local service providers easy. You can be anywhere, at home, in the office or at a café, all you have to do is go online and the net would help you with finding local help services in your area. Once you log on the net just go to any popular search engine, feed in the area name or zip code and search. You will get a list of local companies who will be ready to do the service for you. You can also read reviews of other people who have hired their services before deciding who will be the contractors of your choice. Reading reviews is a good idea since you will come to know how good that particular company is at the job. Some sites also rate businesses online. All this at the click of a mouse and bingo, your home will be as beautiful as it was earlier with their help. You can also check some local bureaus for any complaints that may have been registered for a particular cleaning service provider.

Apart from the search engines, there are other open forum sites which provide you with a comprehensive list of local service providers as these companies are able to list their services with these sites for free. This way you will have far more options to choose from. On these sites you can also get discounts or coupons on the service from the local companies. This way you get to save your precious money too.

Once you find a cleaning service provider, they will give you all the details about how they will go about doing their job and will also inform you of the rates that they will charge. Thus you can check prior to finalizing the deal whether the services offered are within your budget. Gutter Cleaning Maple Ridge

The services offered by the local companies will let you rest in comfort as you will have the confidence that your home is in safe hands. A good cleaning service will give you quality at affordable costs. So do your homework well before choosing any particular company.

[cryptic-michael]

Mahonia and cactus for the asks!

Thank you Maple!! Thank you my guy!!!

Mahonia- what place, thing, or activity inspires you, and how do you express yourself when it does? Hmmmm nooooo god damn idea...I really love dence forest and those long stretches of road surrounded by trees! I adore them so much, and old Edwardian type homes...and fun weird low poly 2000s things....mushrooms and eyes! I've always been obsessed with eyes ever since i was small! I've been obsessed with eyes. Not many activities inspire me, other than the idea of being the the bed of a truck just riding and relaxing, or driving down a long stretch of road someplace and taking it in.....Oh fancy ballroom waltz! Those inspire me, I love them, I think they're gorgeous and so beautiful, i love listening to the music and imagining things. I also love those like later 60s music, that screams groovy weird music. (Spooky, Love potion no. 9, time of the seasons, wham-bam-shang-a-lang, and more!) I normlay express myself by trying to draw or sketch them out! I want so desperately to get better at my little art, but it takes time and practice and those things also take a while! There's so much, but i LOVE drawing mushrooms and Eyes, I'm so fascinated by weird things and fucked up things. If I'm not drawing, I'm imagining things and have the wiggles for a while before i scribble things down!!

Cactus- something you're currently learning(about)? I'm trying to learn toe sew! It's pretty fun what i got going so far!! It's basic stuff, but i want to learn guitar and how to skateboard soon! But i gotta get my dad's guitar first....since he doesn't use it anymore I don't thing. I will take over as man of the house✨now finally, 11 years after he left i will step up and be the man...A cooler him. Anyways, Im learning to sew and wanna learn more stuff! Im also trying to learn/figure out how to go to school for Mycology! Shrooms!! My mushrooms!! Ahh they're so interesting! And it's nature so it would be sooo good for me. But i gotta figure out GED stuff first, and what schools....yeah.. Funfact! I've changed what I've wanted to be SO much! First it was a vet, then a palaeontologist, then an archaeologist, then marine biologist, then a forensic pathologist, then it became a painter writer! And guess what? It still is! I still want to paint and write for a living, and want to learn to sing and play guitar and perform at small local stuff that would be fun!(we literally have a newly opened bar and karaoke place at the end of my road i could go perform if i were good enough.) But mycology seems so nice, and well i can get income....really it's income, boils right down to income, and i gotta do something until i could publish things or get real good at something!!

[serenn]

5 Best Bakeries In KL & PJ To Head To For Fresh Bread, Pastries, And Cakes

Nothing beats biting into a fresh pastry and then licking the crumbly bits off your fingers. Fresh-baked bread and pastries appear to be all the rage right now; perhaps we all need some baked goodness to soothe our souls in the midst of this overwhelming pandemic.

Jelutong Hills Bakers

The top temptations at Jelutong Hills Bakers go beyond bread and butter, with hearty meals like sourdough toast layered with meltingly tender smoked pulled lamb with caramelised onions (RM28; with fries on the side for a full day's worth of carbs) and crispy-fried chicken and scrambled eggs heaped in waffles with maple hollandaise sauce (RM28; with fries on the side for a full day's worth of carbs) (RM30). Check out the counter for tenderly cakey scones, buns, and rolls if you're curious about the ovens here.

2. Universal Bakehouse

Don't be fooled by the cryptic signage (hand-painted by a 71-year-old painter!) - Universal Bakehouse may appear to be an unassuming store from the outside, but the aroma of freshly baked bread and pastries will hit you the moment you walk in!

The bakehouse is proud of their artisan sourdough bread, which is made fresh daily with love and is best paired with a simple slab of butter and a sprinkle of sea salt. Apple pie, chocolate cookies, and curry potato pastry are also popular. Seating is limited here, but the staff is always cheerful and friendly!

3. Dou Dou Bake

Dou Dou Bake is the new kid on the block and the most talked-about designer bakery of 2020. In a calming ambiance with a minimalistic charm and raw aesthetic, enjoy freshly baked goodness and fragrant coffee.

Warning: while the bakery opens at 7:30AM, queues begin as early as 6:30AM, and if you're late, you may find yourself waiting in line for 1 to 2 hours before getting a table. We've heard the wait is totally worth it, so get some sleep and get there before the sun comes out!

4. Michelle Young Cakes & Desserts

This new bakery in Bukit Jalil may be the most beautiful in town! Michelle Young Cakes & Desserts has the appearance of an English tea house and will greet you with the aroma of warm fresh-out-of-the-oven bread and cookies the moment you walk in.

Michelle Young, a passionate home baker who began with an online bakeshop before realising her dream of opening her own bakery cafe, owns the bakery. While dine-in is not yet permitted during these difficult times, you can stop by for some freshly baked goods to go or order them for delivery! Aside from baked goods, you can also get hot chocolate, snowy oolong tea, and strawberry milk matcha here.

5. Croisserie Artisan Bakery

Croisserie Artisan Bakery is said to serve the best, most fluffy croissants in KL. This neighbourhood bakery is an underappreciated gem with a steady stream of loyal customers who return for their consistently delicious pastries, cakes, and bread.

All of the baked goods here are made in small batches daily using only the finest ingredients and authentic baking techniques. Aside from their famous croissants, some must-try star products include their pain au chocolat, baguettes, quiches, and canelés! With plenty of indoor and outdoor seating, this is a great place to reconnect with long-lost friends over delicious pastries.

[spicolyplastics]

Incorporate PVC Brick Mould in Your Home

The most that a brick mould would be used would be around exterior entrances to structures, such as doors and windows. Due to weather, the cut ends of wood brick mould are grainy. Wood swells, splits, rots, and rejects the paint once it soaks up water, which tends to happen especially aggressively through its end grain. PVC is not wood material, it is plastic. The material tends to react well when moisture makes contact with it. Water doesn’t make brick moulds swell, split, rot, or reject its paint. It will last much longer than wood brick moulds, irrespective of whether the paint fails or not.

 The main disadvantage of a PVC brick mould compared to wood is that it has a much larger thermal factor of expansion. As it gets longer the warmer it gets, this will be accounted for only in longer lengths. It won’t really matter much around doors and windows, because it is also fussy about what paints and caulks will work the best. However, it is superior for exterior trims, along with some other latest materials that are mainly for weather-exposed situations. It should not be trusted when people recommend keeping up with the maintenance on the exterior of their homes. PVC trim is relatively tolerant in regard to neglect, meaning you aren’t likely to have to rip it all out and throw it away because you haven’t maintained it or polished it up once in a while.

 The brick mould is an external trim that is typically used to finish and seal the openings of exterior doors and windows whilst providing an attractive transition between the door, window, or the side of the house. It was created during a time when bricks were the common siding of a home, and it covered the gap between the door frame and the brick siding, which serves the purpose of window installations.

 When brickmould was first established, it was made from hard pine or oak due to its weather resistance properties. It is raw and has to be finished by a painter you choose for the job, once the installation is done. Currently, wood brickmould is still pine but it can be purchased in a raw finger joint, primed finger joint, or stain-grade solid pine. Brickmould is also made in mahogany, maple, and other species to match the modern designs of hardwood doors that are currently on the market. Wood can be painted or stained using latex or oil-based products.

 PVC brick mould is quickly replacing wood more and more because homes are being featured as maintenance-free. The main advantage of using a PVC brick mould is that it is resistant to rot and water as well as insect infestation, mould, and mildew. PVC does not split or crack like wood trim and it can be painted or used without doing anything extra. Most people prefer it because it does not use wood and timber in its manufacturing process. PVC is usually completed or polished with acrylic latex paint.

 The composite brick mould is a poly fibre material that enables the strength of wood but like PVC, it won’t rot and is not affected by insects. Composite brick mould comes as a textured product to mimic the look of real wood and can be painted to imitate wood.

[homeremodelingwashington]

The World of Kitchen Cabinets

The cabinets are the most noticeable feature in any kitchen. Cabinets occupy a large portion of the kitchen and are what people first see when they enter the room. Cabinets are the most important component of a kitchen. Cabinets are the most important component of a kitchen's design. The kitchen cabinet cost is the largest component of the total kitchen budget. This understanding shows that it is important to plan carefully and consider the cost of building or purchasing a kitchen cabinet. This is a crucial part of the kitchen and should not be overlooked.

There are three types of kitchen cabinets that are common. Each type has its pros and cons, as well as its purpose for the kitchen owner. It is important to decide which one a homeowner should choose.

The traditional kitchen cabinets are the first. These cabinets are made by carpenters and can be found in the actual kitchen. These cabinets are durable and made from high-quality materials. These cabinets are usually made from medium hardwood. Ash and birch are two of the most common woods used for furniture making. They are stronger than maple, cherry, oak or any other woods. Depending on the preferences of the kitchen cabinet builders, different styles of cabinets can also be made using the mentioned wood types. These cabinets are ideal for permanent homes due to the large investment required to construct them. It is crucial to consider the builder when choosing this type of cabinet. A homeowner should have confidence in the quality of the carpenter and painter who will make the cabinets. These kitchen cabinets should be matched in design and strength to other furniture in your home.

You can also buy the second type of kitchen cabinets at stores. These cabinets are mass-produced in factories. Many of these cabinets can be collapsed and reassembled whenever they are needed. This cabinet is great for people who don't plan on staying in a house for long or for those who move often. These cabinets are very affordable and can be found almost anywhere. These cabinets have a downside: their designs are limited and they may not fit perfectly in your kitchen. They serve their purpose of storing food and supplies very well.

This third type of kitchen cabinet is made in factories, but can be customized to meet the needs of a client. These cabinets are usually made from hardwoods, and are often finished with laminates or veneers. These cabinets are best when multi-layered and baked-on. They are both durable and beautiful. There are many storage options and designs. You can use any combination of sliding shelves, drawers, pull-out pantries and other storage options that will fit in the available space. These custom cabinets are typically installed by highly-skilled cabinet makers who specialize in cabinet building.

Before deciding on the type of cabinet to install in your kitchen, it is important to weigh all options. You can find many resources on the subject. All you have to do is look at the yellow pages or the internet.

Genesis Cabinets LLC 10402 33rd St SE, Lake Stevens, WA 98258 425-923-8077 https://genesiscabinetsllc.com/