Cold Comfort Love
Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin, as self-neglecting. ― William Shakespeare, King Henry V
With no breeze, the glassy lake reflected winter back on itself. Though, in that chilling mirror, the bare trees were even better defined, seemingly less shrouded in mist. That was so very different from the previous time Selene had hiked to the isolated tarn. Back then, a spring breeze rustling through the budding trees had whitecaps lapping against the shore. Warmed by navigating the overgrown path up to the tarn, they’...
