#a provencal mystery

[illustration-alcove]

Tatsuro Kiuchi's illustrated book covers for M.L. Longworth's A Provençal Mystery Series.

[allthemurders]

crime shows i’ve watched

— every crime show i’ve watched, in alphabetical order! main fandoms are marked with a star

at some point i will finish all the ones i got partway through and then forgot about. maybe

agatha christie’s poirot

⭐️ agatha raisin

⭐️ annika

beyond paradise

broadchurch (s1 only)

brooklyn nine-nine (haven’t watched past s6 ep16 yet)

⭐️ death in paradise

⭐️ father brown

hidden // craith

magpie murders

⭐️ midsomer murders

miss marple (bbc)

⭐️ murder in provence

⭐️ only murders in the building (haven’t watched s4 yet)

professor t (haven’t finished s2 yet)

⭐️ return to paradise

⭐️ shakespeare & hathaway

sherlock (bbc) (haven’t watched s4 ep3 yet)

⭐️ silent witness

⭐️ sister boniface mysteries

the bay (haven’t finished s4 yet)

the long call

⭐️ the mallorca files — posts on @the-mallorca-files

trigger point (haven’t watched s2 yet)

unforgotten (haven’t finished s5 yet)

vera (haven’t finished; not sure how much left)

wallander (haven’t finished; not sure how much left)

[gaelic-diary-holder-returns]

Just finished Murder In Provence, a cozy english mystery about a French judge played by the same actor who played Inspector Thursday on Endeavor. It was a nice slow paced but interesting procedural drama with nice witty repartee which is a nice change from so many English cozies lately that are weird period pieces (i'm looking at you Sister Boniface)

[philleegirl]

2022 fic year in review

Total number of completed stories: 40 (woah!)

Total word count: 63,861

Fandoms written in: Death in Paradise, Father Brown (2013), Ghosts (TV 2019), Lewis (TV), MASH (TV), Midsomer Murders, Murder in Provence, New Blood (TV), Our Flag Means Death (TV), Queens of Mystery (TV), Shakespeare & Hathaway: Private Investigators (TV), Shetland (TV), The Brokenwood Mysteries  

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected? Definitely more fic and in so many more fandoms than I expected.

What’s your own favourite story of the year? This is actually really hard for me to decide because I played in so many new playgrounds this year and each playground has its own ups and downs. One I really liked and thought was rather clever was Just a Literary Device  (New Blood)

Did you take any writing risks this year? Oh lord, yes! I wrote more crossovers than ever: Death in Paradise/Shetland, Ghosts/Shetland and kinda Shetland/Van der Walk. I tried and failed to do NaNo, but learned a good deal. I wrote the first two fics in a fandom, which I found wild. I finally wrote a bit of the Robbie Lewis’s son/James Hathaway fic that I have always wanted to write.

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year? I want to finish Hearts (Shetland series) and give it the ending it deserves. I am working on a couple of fics for the Shetland Fic Fest. I also want to finish the Death in Paradise/Shetland casefic I started for NaNo. 

Most popular story of the year?  Of Reed Warblers, Cloud Gazing, and Butterflies (Ghosts) by Kudos, Don't Hide Your Love Behind a Hardened Mask (Our Flag Means Death) by Hits, and The Young Perez-Hunter Chronicles (Shetland) by Comment Threads. The last might be a little unfair since that is a Shetland fic and the fandom does tend to have full conversations in the comments. <3

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: It is a tie between Provençale Quiche (Murder in Provence) and Just a Literary Device. I get that these are tiny fandoms, but I actually quite like both of them and would love to see both fandoms grow. Plus, they are vastly different fics, but I think they both have some merit and lovely moments.

Most fun story to write: Als een feniks uit as gerezen (Shetland). I loved learning some Dutch and also creating a partner worthy for Billy was fun!  

Most unintentionally telling story: when i look at you… and i look, and i… and i’m home (Death in Paradise) As someone who has struggled to accept her sexuality for about a decade and only started telling people that I am Asexual, Biromantic in the last 18 months, I think that this was the most telling. Making Neville Demisexual was actually really scary for me cause it oddly felt like a confession. I am not sex adverse and write sex scenes infrequently, so it seemed like I was setting myself up for being called a hypocrite. However, that has mostly not happened and I am so happy about that! Being Ace/Biro is hard enough in real life, I really didn’t want fandom coming at me too.

Biggest disappointment: Not finishing NaNo. I am the type of person that when I set myself a challenge I finish it, so that was a rough failure for me. 

Biggest surprise: That I actually wrote in THAT many fandoms!! It is crazy to me. Also, that all but two of them are tiny fandoms, so while nothing was viral or blew up I have been getting Kudos almost every day. That is huge for me.

Um, since @greenapricot tagged everyone that I would have tagged, I will skip tagging for now, but if you see this and want to do go for it!!

[scareymulligan]

remembering how many babies were thrust into my arms in 2007 and being consumed by anxiety about how many gen z residents of xi’an and shanhaiguan have my face in their baby photos

[etirabys]

did you guys know about courtly love??? because I didn't

My introduction to courtly love was reading a Diana Wynne Jones novella that made no sense unless you know what courtly love is. After crawling confusedly through ancient Livejournal reviews to piece together what the story had been about, I took away that it was a weird medieval knight thing where you talk a lot of guff to a (married) woman without ever expecting it to turn into more than what it is.

The first chapter of CS Lewis's The Allegory of Love explains the concept much more thoroughly. His account is pleasantly bonkers. I now relay it to you. (Note: not only am I skeptical of parts of his account, I read it while sleep deprived, so salt liberally.)

First, a sketch of the relationship:

The lover is always abject. Obedience to his lady’s lightest wish, however whimsical, and silent acquiescence in her rebukes, however unjust, are the only virtues he dares to claim. There is a service of love closely modelled on the service which a feudal vassal owes to his lord. The lover is the lady’s ‘man’. He addresses her as midons, which etymologically represents not ‘my lady’ but ‘my lord’. The whole attitude has been rightly described as ‘a feudalisation of love’. This solemn amatory ritual is felt to be part and parcel of the courtly life.

This seems to have been both literary trope and a real-life interaction pattern (of which the former came first). A specific example in Arthuriana:

It is only later that [Lancelot] learns the cause of all this cruelty. The Queen has heard of his momentary hesitation in stepping on to the tumbril[, a humiliating cart he rode into the city where she was held captive, to rescue her], and this lukewarmness in the service of love has been held by her sufficient to annihilate all the merit of his subsequent labours and humiliations. Even when he is forgiven, his trials are not yet at an end. The tournament at the close of the poem gives Guinevere another opportunity of exercising her power. When he has already entered the lists, in disguise, and all, as usual, is going down before him, she sends him a message ordering him to do his poorest. Lancelot obediently lets himself be unhorsed by the next knight that comes against him, and then takes to his heels, feigning terror of every combatant that passes near him. The herald mocks him for a coward and the whole field takes up the laugh against him: the Queen looks on delighted. Next morning the same command is repeated, and he answers, ‘My thanks to her, if she will so’. This time, however, the restriction is withdrawn before the fighting actually begins.

So, huh. How did this cultural script come to be?

Courtly love as a literary trope began in 11th century Provence. Here's Lewis's sketch of that time and place:

We must picture a castle which is a little island of comparative leisure and luxury, and therefore at least of possible refinement, in a barbarous country-side. There are many men in it, and very few women—the lady, and her damsels. Around these throng the whole male meiny [i.e. attendants], the inferior nobles, the landless knights, the squires, and the pages—haughty creatures enough in relation to the peasantry beyond the walls, but feudally inferior to the lady as to her lord—her ‘men’ as feudal language had it. Whatever ‘courtesy’ is in the place flows from her: all female charm from her and her damsels. There is no question of marriage for most of the court. All these circumstances together come very near to being a ‘cause’; but they do not explain why very similar conditions elsewhere had to wait for Provençal example before they produced like results. Some part of the mystery remains inviolate.

So that's the material background – a lopsided gender balance. But more fascinating is the cultural background where the passion and devotion of romantic love – a passion/devotion Lewis claims simply did not exist as a mode for men to treat women in Europe before courtly love was invented – could not be channeled into marriage because such a stance is incompatible with the social role of a husband:

The same woman who was the lady and ‘the dearest dread’ of her vassals was often little better than a piece of property to her husband. He was master in his own house. So far from being a natural channel for the new kind of love, marriage was rather the drab background against which that love stood out in all the contrast of its new tenderness and delicacy. The situation is indeed a very simple one, and not peculiar to the Middle Ages. Any idealization of sexual love, in a society where marriage is purely utilitarian, must begin by being an idealization of adultery.

In fact, courtly love's rightful predecessor is not heterosexual love but the love of a vassal for his lord. (I am quite skeptical of this as a claim about reality, but less skeptical of it as a claim about literature.) Reiterating a sentence from the first quote in this post:

The whole attitude [of a knight in courtly love with his lady] has been rightly described as ‘a feudalisation of love’.

CS Lewis on that feudal relationship:

We shall never understand [the affection between vassal and lord], if we think of it in the light of our own moderated and impersonal loyalties. We must not think of officers drinking the king’s health: we must think rather of a small boy’s feeling for some hero in the sixth form. There is no harm in the analogy, for the good vassal is to the good citizen very much as a boy is to a man. ... He loves and reverences only what he can touch and see; but he loves it with an intensity which our tradition is loath to allow except to sexual love.

So it's that relationship that courtly love remixes into heterosexual romance. Courtly love ennobles the lover – there's a religious parallel here for sure. And it is necessarily adulterous because marriage is not a matter of personal passion, because distance is conducive to recreational idealization, because the lack of potential sexual consummation is pleasantly purity-coded in a Christian society, and because a wife, being a knight's inferior, cannot ennoble him. So, finally, Lewis says bluntly:

The love which is to be the source of all that is beautiful in life and manners must be the reward freely given by the lady, and only our superiors can reward. But a wife is not a superior.

Coming back briefly to Diana Wynne Jones's The True State of Affairs: I understand much better now the behavior of the protagonist's love interest. He's a bored would-be king in captivity who decides to make the other visible prisoner his midons. He expects her to understand the convention he's following. Why shouldn't he take her on as a concept like this? She, also bored and deprived, benefits from his gifts and minor heroics. He wants an ennobling influence. And besides, isn't idealizing a beautiful woman you never intend to make a move on fun?

[besiegedhunter]

So I've thought this since Il Siracusano came out but only today looked into it but know how mysterious Red's situation i.e. being a wolf hunter, has been? How in universe even Kal'tsit, the most knowledgeable person on Terra, didn't even know?

Yeah well odds are that all this time Texas has known that Red was the Fang of a Signori and it's been implied since the game's launch through her voiceline about Red:

It's vague and a case could be made that she's not referring to Red being a Fang however look at IS-ST-1, the first story node of Il Siracusano:

Signore dei Lupi was not mentioned verbally before this. The last time her and Zaaro met was seven years ago after the Texas family purge. The only Siracusan she's really had much interactions with since is Lappland whose implied to not know them.

Zaaro does mention Fangs first but he doesn't explain what a Fang is to Texas, likely implying she knows already and when we learn what Fangs are it's through Zaaro beaming the explanation into Vigil's mind:

So it'd be really easy for him to do so to Texas as well presumably.

So she's known about the Signori and probably their Fangs and their game, assumedly ever since she first met Zaaro seven years before Il Siracusano, so 1092. She would have all this information on hand when she joins Rhodes sometime after 1094 and learns of Red and probably puts two and two together that she is a Fang.

Also it's interesting to me that she knows about all of this and can tell that Red isn't evil but still steers clear of her. Reasons could range from "well she doesn't know her so why personally involve herself with her" to anything like knowing the Signori are immortal and can't be beaten or the Fangs are integrally tied to Siracusa so she doesn't want to be involved.

I think it's interesting and sad at the same time that Texas is one of the two characters Red is attracted to wants to interact with but avoids her while knowing her situation.

Maybe we'll see something with themin the future. They are both in the same storyline and I think it's only fair to see Red interacting more with Lupos once this storyline is wrapped up and while Provence is my main pick, Texas would be good too.

[704-liveblog]

since i've been playing slarpg here's my thoughts on it so far!

i'd give it like, a B. i like the characters their interactions are fun. the combat is really cool and i like the worldbuilding. the music is wonderful and the pixelart is beautiful.

just. the plot feels like it moves really fast and the characters are constantly making assumptions and then rolling with them and you're supposed to roll with them too.

like, after they meet javis for the first time, they just assume everything evil that happens is his fault but we don't even know if he's evil. it goes from "we should go find javis and talk to him to make sure he's not evil" to "jodie's looking for a mysterious figure that's been lurking in the woods? that could be javis!" to "these guys are frozen in ice? this must be javis' doing!" even though he's. a video tape. not an ice mage. and we don't even know what he wants. and we don't even know if the hooded figure that was seen here was javis. why is that your first thought. like the characters say something COULD be true, and you're supposed to take it as "this is DEFINITELY true" and they take it as that too.

and then in the celestial desert it's the same thing - "glyph was reprogrammed to be evil? that must have been javis!" all you know about him is that you walked into his house and beat up all his employees and he got mad at you for it. why do you assume every bad thing that happens is his fault.

verena introduces herself and says that she's fortuna and faith goes from "should we believe her?" to "i have every reason to believe her" can you tell me those reasons? from my perspective someone just showed up and claimed to be your god even though she looks nothing like her, and you just said yeah okay that seems true.

and the whole "send me your strongest warriors and i won't destroy your planet" thing just feels like a cheap way to give us a fighting chance against Literal God. and the novas were like "but who else could possibly do it... we may have just started two days ago but we're the only people who qualify" dude i dunno what about, say, the fucking paladin brigade? holly and provence and the one that likes swords whose name I forgot because I only spoke to him in act 1? allison's mom? fucking, bartholomew even???

malady harmony just feels like badeline from celeste but as a fox. she talks the same way, she has the exact same color scheme, she's the same concept. and she kind of just came out of nowhere. the explanation given for her existence wasn't an explanation at all.

i feel like there could have been some tension buildup to the fight with allison but i did think that part was kind of cool. the way malady gets melody all riled up right before allison arrives leading to something of an outburst.

i forgot the rest of what i had to say. anyways. liveblog continue

[amaleu-antmat]

The case files of Jeweler Richard vol 8 spoiler!

Part 2?

(Continuing from where I left in the previous post)

After Seigi and Catherine finished buying the groceries, Richard and Catherine enter a little discussion about the treasure hunt again, as the air grew heavy Seigi interjected to lighten the mood "Uhm, I thought I'd make seafood stew for dinner. I got some really delicious ingredients, Bouillabaisse is from this place right?" After Seigi said that the two other people look at him with almost scared? Lol faces, they moved in sync with other indescribable intense emotions, and that scare the hell out of Seigi, the poor guy think <what did I say this time? Did I make a mistake with the menu? Or are they allergic?> 😂

Richard "Bouillabaisse....wow."

Seigi "Wow, what?"

Catherine "Oh, Seigi...Bouillabaisse is a dish from Provence, but it's very difficult..."

Richard "The shrimp and fish have to be dressed just right, and the vegetables require preparation as well. It also needs to be simmer for an extremely long time. At any rate, it is an unavoidable difficult path"

Seigi "Don't worry, I can do it, it's not a problem"

Catherine "Just the thought of preparing a meal that takes so much effort makes me want to pass out. You should rethink this, even locals don't make it, it's too much hassles"

Richard "You didn't come here to hone your cooking skills. I strongly suggest you save your energy for other tasks"

Seigi "Ah..."

Mother and son duo are preoccupied because of past experiences, I guess 😆 and don't want Seigi to go through it. Seigi catches on the fact that they are both incapable of doing basic chores. He said to give him 2 hours and to not peek under any circumstances.

While Seigi cooks, he thinks that he should feed Richard so that he'll have the energy to solve the mystery of the treasure hunt like Sherlock Holmes. He finished cooking and came out, Richard had found other marbles in the meantime, he asked where Catherine was, and Richard told him that she went to check if the pizza place was open.

Seigi "I appreciate having a backup plan, but I really don't think we're going to need it"

Richard "So it seems...." 😆 (dunno why, but this part made me laugh)

Richard set the tableware, etc, and Catherine returned with news that it's closed for vacation.

Seigi set the pot containing dinner on the table and pulled off the lid, he looks at them and see.... indescribable tension, the mother-son duo peer at the pot, <was it admiration? For me? No. For the Bouillabaisse.> 🤣

(Here's a food pic, just so that you'll feel the hunger I felt when searching for it out of curiosity)

Richard "What on...."

Catherine "C'est Magnifique! I can't believe it."

They approach the table with caution, unsure as if it was a crashed ufo...<I didn't put anything bad in it....> �� (I find it funny how careful he is acting right now, it's really like encountering your mother in law and trying to be liked by her, only, Seigi doesn't seem to realise this, for all this novel he is diveded between pleasing her and trying to make Richard happy at the same time? But when he is nice to her, Richard is a bit sulky)

Seigi began portioning the serving and encourage them to eat.

Catherine tells Seigi to say bon appetit, and when he does the mother son duo answer in unison "Merci" Richard pout, Catherine smiles. Seigi thinks that something of the sort must have happen in the past in this estate. Seigi ask what they thought about the Bouillabaisse, Catherine teary-eyed respond that it tastes like happiness itself.

Richard "...Well, he always has been a good cook"

Catherine "Richard, you are being rude. Thank Seigi this instant"

Richard looks mortified for a moment and then looks at Seigi <This feels like a standoff between East and West, but that would make me his opponent, and I'd be knocked out before I even got a swing in. It would never occur to me to pick such a fight, I'd just wind up on my knees begging for mercy for all eternity> Seigiiiiiiiii 😆

Richard look at him a bit bashfully "Seigi, I've known for quite a while now that you are a talented cook, but it seems I must acknowledge your skills once again. Bravo. Perhaps you could open a restaurant if you felt so inclined. But I have to ask, when did you learn to cook this?"

Catherine "what an arrogant way to say that. Does that even count as a compliment?"

Richard "Stay out of this"

Seigi "Ahh uhm, thanks Richard. Where did I learn this? Good question"

Wanting to alleviate the tension he confess to them that it's his first time cooking this and he just followed the recipe, the mother-son duo doesn't believe him and tells him to stop joking with a wave of their hand in front of them and the same expression. They gives example about how cooking is hard like if you cook an egg in high heat it'll burn or about how it will explode in the microwave if run for too long, and that the odds of Seigi succeeding in that dish in the first try was too low. 😆

Catherine think for a moment that it's a japanese men skills but immediately turn down that theory as she had a friend who married a jap man who couldn't even fold underwear. Richard blatantly asks Seigi what tricks he uses.

Catherine "Can't you just say thank you, I love it?"

Richard " I don't know how many times I have to tell you, but you have no right to interject here"

Seigi the poor potato "Oh, it's fine, I'm uhm used to it! Yes! Let's eat!"

[davidnajewiczphotography]

Another mysterious doorway - ran across this in Gordes, another hilltop town in the Provence-Alpes-Côte d'Azur region.

[luc3]

Nails. (French Folks Tradition.) part 1

Cutting your nails :

This is not a trivial act, and several Roman authors from the 1st century mention prohibitions linked to this gesture.

Plutarch explains that nails come from an impure secretion of the body and that one should not get rid of them during sacred periods. (Treatise of Isis and Osiris.)

In the Satyricon, Petronius has one of his characters say: "I have heard that it is not permitted for anyone to cut their nails or hair on a ship, except when the sea becomes stormy".

Pliny indicates that it is a very bad omen to cut one's nails, without saying a word and starting with the index finger, during the markets of Rome. (Book 28)

-

19th century' superstitions still current :

You should avoid cutting them on days of the week that contain “r”. In the Vosges it is explained that this allows us to protect ourselves from toothache. In Normandy it brings bad luck, and in Maine, it is every month in "r" that attracts bad luck.

The Vosges prescribe to avoid Fridays at all costs, because they lengthen the devil's horns, and recommend Mondays, for those who want to permanently protect themselves from toothache.

Nor should one cut one's nails during the waning of the moon, lest they never grow back.

In the Pyrenees, if you cut your nails after sunset, the clippings mysteriously go into the eyes of horned animals and cause blindness.

According to another widespread superstition, you should not cut the nails of small children. This would give them hooked fingers, they would become thieves or they might even die.

-

Omens / Divinations :

They say in Provence that people who have curled nails die young. In the 19th century, the small white spots that sometimes appeared on the nails often meant lies that had been told. In certain other places, they predict a happy life (Poitou, Brittany); a gift or inheritance (Corsica.)

It is also said that these spots reveal a person's jealous character, or the number of their sins. (Maine et Loire) To make them disappear, simply blow on them in the morning on an empty stomach (Seine - Maritime.)

In Corsica, a black sign on the nails announces a death in the family (if it is noticed in the house); or that of a close relative (if we see it on the stairs.) If we see this stain outside, it will be the death of a distant relative or friend.

-

[Excerpts freely reproduced from M.C Delmas.]

[sicutpuella]

Desiderium [Tom Riddle x Original Character]

Chapter 1: nuit de février

In the outskirts of Provence, France, on a February evening in the year 1951, an air of enchantment permeated the countryside. Nestled amidst the rolling hills, a grand chateau stood as a beacon of refinement and grandeur. Adorned in exquisite finery, every detail meticulously attended to, the sprawling estate emanated an aura of timeless elegance. As dusk descended upon the land, casting a golden hue upon the snow-covered landscape, the chateau's lights shimmered with a radiance that rivaled the celestial stars above. Their warm glow cascaded through the windows, casting a spell of enchantment upon all who beheld the spectacle.

The atmosphere was filled with anticipation as carriages, resplendent in their regal splendor, made their stately procession towards the chateau's entrance. Each arrival added to the symphony of murmured conversations and tinkling laughter that echoed through the frosty air. The gardens, too, had not been spared from the touch of whimsical enchantment. The carefully manicured flora, bedecked with delicate frost and a dusting of snow, created a magical tableau. Twinkling lights were carefully woven amidst the branches of ancient trees, casting a soft, ethereal glow that danced in harmony with the falling snowflakes.

Within the chateau's walls, guests mingled amidst opulent salons adorned with gilded tapestries and magnificent chandeliers. Laughter, tinged with the echoes of clinking glasses, filled the air as conversations flowed like a melodic symphony of shared stories and whispered secrets.

In this grand setting, the evening unfolded with a grace befitting the majesty of the surroundings. The guests, their attire a tapestry of refined elegance, moved through the chateau's halls with an air of sophistication and charm. The soft notes of a grand piano accompanied their every step, lending an ethereal soundtrack to the festivities.

As the night wore on, the allure of the chateau's splendor captivated all who beheld it. The snowflakes continued their gentle descent, weaving a veil of enchantment over the landscape. The grandeur of the scene, the delicate interplay of light and snow, whispered of timeless beauty and the promise of unforgettable memories.

And so, in this idyllic setting on that fateful February evening, the grand chateau stood as a testament to the power of elegance and refinement. Its magnificence, embellished by the softly falling snow and the twinkle of a thousand lights, created an ethereal world where dreams and reality intertwined, casting a spell upon all who had the privilege to partake in its grandeur.

From the depths of a carriage emerged a vision of elegance and poise. As the door swung open, a woman alighted with grace, her every movement imbued with an innate sense of refinement. Cascading down her back, her crimson tresses were styled with meticulous care, their lustrous waves framing a countenance of ethereal beauty.

Clad in a gown of regal allure, she wore a shade of dark royal blue that enveloped her form with a beguiling charm. The neckline of her evening attire ascended gracefully, drawing attention to her slender, swan-like neck that held an air of elegance and grace. The absence of sleeves allowed her long and graceful arms to be exposed, captivating the onlookers with their sheer loveliness. A white-fur cover-up adorned her shoulders, adding a touch of luxurious warmth to the ensemble. Her attire, though modest, possessed a subtle sensuality that hinted at the allure lying just beneath the surface. The back of her gown, tastefully revealed, offered a glimpse of her radiant skin, evoking a sense of both mystery and desire. The delicate balance struck between modesty and allure painted her as a woman of refined taste and captivating beauty.

The woman's features were a testament to her natural loveliness. Her makeup, light and delicately applied, enhanced rather than masked her inherent grace. Her electric blue eyes, the very windows to her soul, shimmered with a blend of nervousness and charm, captivating all who had the privilege of meeting her gaze. Her every expression, every flutter of her lashes, conveyed a delicate vulnerability that only served to enhance her appeal.

Amidst the grandeur and opulence that surrounded her, she stood, radiating a captivating aura that drew admiring glances from all who beheld her presence. Though there lingered a hint of nervousness, a touch of awkwardness in her demeanor, it only served to accentuate her natural beauty, making her all the more endearing.

As the noble and revered Domitius Rosier caught sight of his daughter entering the grand halls, his eyes alight with unmistakable delight. His commanding presence, tall and dignified, matched her own in stature, for she stood only a few inches shorter than her esteemed father. A man of striking countenance, his features exuded an undeniable allure. His light-blonde hair, touched with traces of silver, framed a visage that had weathered the passing years with grace, further enhancing his handsomeness and charm. With an ethereal bone structure and an air of regality, he stood as a testament to the timeless appeal of his lineage.

"Ah, Claudia, my beloved daughter!" Domitius voice carried a note of sheer elation as he greeted her. His eyes, mirroring the mesmerizing electric blue hue of her own, twinkled with paternal pride and unbridled joy. Eagerly, he closed the distance between them, his arms outstretched in anticipation of their long-awaited reunion.

"Father! How I've longed for this moment!" Claudia's voice, filled with warmth and affection, rang out as she embraced him tenderly. The bond between them was undeniable, a testament to the profound love they shared as father and daughter. In that embrace, time seemed to stand still, and the grand chateau faded into the background, leaving only the cherished connection between them.

Their reunion was a symphony of love and joy, their voices intertwining in laughter and heartfelt conversation. As they moved gracefully through the opulent halls of the chateau, their shared happiness permeated the air, casting a radiant glow upon all who witnessed their familial bond. The grand chateau, with its resplendent décor and majestic ambiance, became the backdrop to a cherished moment between a father and his daughter. Amidst the flickering candlelight and the whispers of enchantment, their love and connection shone brightly, a beacon of warmth and tenderness in a world filled with fleeting moments.

“At least, you weren’t late!” Domitius gently teases his daughter.

"I am honored to be present for this joyous occasion, Father," Claudia replied, her voice filled with a mixture of excitement and anticipation. She glanced around the room, taking in the sight of the esteemed guests and the palpable aura of importance that surrounded them. Tonight was not just any ordinary wedding; it was a gathering of influential figures, where political allegiances were forged and strengthened.

Domitius chuckled softly, his voice tinged with amusement. "Ah, my dear Claudia, punctuality is indeed a virtue that runs deep in our bloodline. I am glad you have inherited that trait from me." His eyes sparkled with affection as he placed a hand on her arm, guiding her through the bustling crowd. "But it is not just punctuality that makes this evening special. It is the union of two great families, the intertwining of destinies, and the forging of alliances that will shape the course of our future."

As they strolled along the gilded corridors, their steps echoing softly against the marbled floor, Claudia listened intently to her father's words. His wisdom and guidance had always been a beacon in her life, grounding her amidst the tumultuous storms that came with their esteemed name.

"Father, I cannot help but feel a mixture of excitement and… dread," Claudia confessed, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

Domitius’ gaze softened, and he placed a hand on her cheek, a gesture filled with paternal reassurance. "My dear Claudia, you have always been a source of pride for me. Your strength and intelligence shine brightly, and I have no doubt that you will carry our family's legacy with honor. But remember, my child, that even in the face of great responsibilities, you must never lose sight of your own happiness and fulfillment. Your heart should guide you as much as your intellect."

Claudia nodded, absorbing her father's words of wisdom. She understood the delicate balance between duty and personal desires, and she vowed to find harmony within herself. The burden of their name may be weighty, but she refused to let it overshadow her own dreams and aspirations.

"Thank you, Father," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. "Your guidance and unwavering support mean the world to me."

Domitius smiled warmly, his eyes shimmering with love. "You are my greatest joy, Claudia. Remember that, always."

Among the sea of esteemed guests, Claudia Rosier stood tall and regal, her crimson gown accentuating her elegant stature. Her eyes shimmered with a mixture of excitement and curiosity as she observed the gathering. This was not merely a social affair; it was a convergence of power and influence, where alliances were forged and secrets exchanged beneath the guise of polite conversation.

As she made her way through the grand hall, Claudia's gaze alighted upon the familiar faces of Ministry members, seasoned politicians, and influential figures of pureblood society. The room seemed to come alive with the whispered conversations and laughter of those who held the keys to power. It was a world she had been born into, a world where connections and lineage held great sway.

Her eyes briefly met those of Armand Malfoy, a figure of great importance within the pureblood circles. The intensity in his gaze spoke volumes, a silent acknowledgment of their shared heritage and the intricate web of blood ties that bound their families together. Claudia couldn't help but wonder about the complexities that lay beneath the surface, the unspoken alliances and unbreakable loyalties that governed their world.

Amidst the sea of influential guests, Claudia's attention was caught by the presence of rich old purebloods. They exude an air of privilege and entitlement, their names etched into the annals of pureblood history. Their wrinkled faces and weathered hands spoke of a lifetime spent in pursuit of power and wealth, their very presence a testament to the enduring legacy of their bloodlines.

As she gracefully moved through the crowd, Claudia engaged in polite conversation with acquaintances and family friends. She spoke with eloquence and confidence, her intelligence and charm evident in every word she uttered. Yet, beneath her composed facade, there was a flicker of restlessness, a longing to make her mark on a world that often felt suffocating in its traditions and expectations.

She observed her father, conversing effortlessly with influential figures. His commanding presence and charisma commanded respect, his words holding weight and authority. Claudia couldn't help but feel a swell of pride, knowing that she was his daughter, a reflection of his legacy and the aspirations he had instilled within

As they moved through the grand hall, the whispered conversations and admiring glances followed in their wake. Claudia's crimson tresses, her regal bearing, and the air of sophistication that enveloped her drew the attention of many. Yet, beneath the surface, she was aware of the expectations placed upon her, the burden of her family's legacy. It was a world where appearances were everything, and Claudia knew she had to navigate the treacherous waters with finesse and tact.

As Domitius led her further into the heart of the festivities, Claudia steeled herself for the challenges that lay ahead. She knew that within this grand gathering, there were alliances to be forged, secrets to be discovered, and ambitions to be pursued. The evening promised more than just a celebration of love; it was an arena where power, influence, and destiny converged.

As they approached the heart of the gathering, Claudia's eyes alighted upon the bride and groom.

In the grand ballroom of the opulent estate, the wedding of Allectus Rosier and Lucretia Black was a spectacle that had been meticulously orchestrated. It was a union not solely born out of love, but a strategic alliance between two prominent pureblood families. The Rosiers and the Blacks, both esteemed and powerful, sought to strengthen their ties and preserve their ancient lineage.

In the opulent ballroom, Allectus Rosier stood amidst the gathering, his presence commanding attention. The flickering candlelight accentuated the chiseled features of his face, casting shadows that only heightened the allure of his masculine beauty. His deep-set, electric blue eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, inviting those who dared to meet his gaze into a world of mystery and intrigue.

As he moved with a grace and confidence that bespoke his noble lineage, Allectus drew the attention of all in his path. His impeccable sense of style, showcased through his tailored attire, bespoke a man who understood the power of appearance and how it could captivate the minds and hearts of those around him. With every step he took, the whispers of admiration followed, like the gentle rustle of silk against marble.

Beside him, Lucretia, resplendent in her wedding gown, exuded an ethereal grace that complemented Allectus's commanding presence. Her long black hair cascaded down her back, cascading like a waterfall of obsidian, and her dark eyes held a hint of mystery. While her beauty was undeniable, it was the underlying knowledge that this union was forged for the preservation of bloodlines that cast a veil of complexity over her delicate features.

The guests marveled at the sight before them, marveling at the union of two individuals whose physical beauty seemed divinely ordained. But hidden beneath the façade of this arranged marriage, were the intricacies of their familial obligations and societal expectations. It was a delicate dance, where duty and desire intertwined, and the future of two great houses hung in the balance.

As the ceremony progressed, the solemn vows were exchanged, sealing the union of Allectus Rosier and Lucretia Black.

The grandeur of the reception hall was ablaze with the glittering chandeliers and the lively chatter of the esteemed guests. Claudia, beaming with pride for her brother's successful nuptials, made her way through the crowd to congratulate him. Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she playfully teased Allectus, her beloved sibling.

"Congratulations, dear brother! You managed to look decent tonight, finally," Claudia jested, her voice laced with affectionate banter. She held her brother's arm and leaned in closer, a conspiratorial glint in her eyes. "And Lucretia, my dear sister-in-law, you look absolutely splendid. I hope you have a stash of potions to counteract any potential headaches from dealing with him," she teased, a playful smile adorning her lips.

As Claudia exchanged pleasantries with her family, a familiar voice cut through the air. Turning her head swiftly, she beheld her cousin, Abraxas Malfoy, his presence commanded attention, his poise and demeanor oozing with aristocratic elegance.

The soft glow of the chandeliers played upon Abraxas' bright white-blond hair, each strand meticulously arranged to perfection. Not a strand dared to be out of place, for it knew its role in accentuating his otherworldly features. His sharp, piercing gaze, like the blade of a silver rapier, met Claudia's eyes with an unwavering intensity.

With a smile that danced upon her lips, Claudia stepped forward to greet her cousin. The warmth in her eyes was mirrored in her voice as she extended her hand in greeting. "Ah, Abraxas, it is a pleasure to see you again," she said, her words carrying a genuine warmth and affection.

Abraxas, ever the epitome of refinement, reciprocated her greeting with a nod, acknowledging her presence. His pale, icy-blue eyes met hers.

She extended her hand towards Abraxas, a gesture of kinship and shared heritage. The group of pureblood friends surrounding him, including Mulciber, Nott, Lestrange, and others, exuded an air of sophistication and privilege, much like Claudia and her brother.

However, as her gaze swept the room, Claudia's eyes locked onto a figure that sent a chill down her spine. Tom Riddle, a man of enigmatic allure, stood apart from the revelry, his presence both captivating and unnerving. The room seemed to darken ever so slightly as Claudia's gaze met his piercing eyes.

Claudia's eyes couldn't help but be drawn to him, as if he possessed an invisible pull that captivated her gaze. It wasn't just his striking appearance that caught her attention, but the way he carried himself with an air of confidence and intelligence. Tom Riddle seemed to possess an otherworldly charm, his features perfectly chiseled and his movements graceful.

His dark, curly hair framed his face in a way that accentuated his piercing, intelligent eyes. The slight curl at the ends of his locks added a touch of effortless elegance. His cheekbones were sculpted, giving his face a refined and aristocratic look. There was an enigmatic quality about him that left Claudia intrigued, as if there were depths of complexity hidden beneath his attractive exterior.

As Tom Riddle moved through the crowd, conversing with various guests, Claudia couldn't help but notice how effortlessly he commanded attention and respect. His words were articulate and thoughtful, drawing people in with his wit and charm. It seemed that even her brother, Allectus, and her cousin, Abraxas Malfoy, both known for their own good looks, paled in comparison to Tom Riddle's magnetic presence.

Claudia's curiosity grew, and she found herself longing to engage in conversation with this enigmatic figure. She observed the way he carried himself, the way he made others feel important and valued. It was as if he possessed a charisma that extended beyond mere physical appearance, captivating the hearts and minds of those around him.

“Cat got your tongue?” Abraxas noticed how his cousin Claudia seemed to stiffen up a bit upon seeing Tom.

“Ah! Lest we not forget your little show back when you were what… 11?” Allectus chimed in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. The mention of that particular memory elicited a brief flashback in Claudia's mind, transporting her back to her first year at Hogwarts.

She could vividly recall the scene in the Slytherin common room, bathed in the dim glow of the firelight, where Tom Marvolo Riddle, then a sixth-year prefect, had been surrounded by a crowd of admirers. The Slytherin Quidditch team, basking in the glory of their recent victory, had flocked around him like moths to a flame. Claudia, a wide-eyed first-year filled with youthful infatuation, had watched from a distance, her heart aflutter with anticipation.

Summoning her courage, she approached him, her delicate footsteps echoing softly against the stone floor. In her hand, she clutched a folded piece of parchment, its edges slightly creased from her anxious grip. In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only her and the enigmatic figure of Tom Riddle before her. Her heart raced, her palms grew clammy, but her determination propelled her forward.

"Hello, Tom Riddle!" she had exclaimed, her voice quivering yet filled with a resolute innocence that belied her tender age. The room fell silent, every eye fixed upon the brave young girl who dared to express her affections so openly.

"I am Claudia," she continued, her words tumbling out in a rush, like a cascade of pearls from a broken necklace. "I know that you and my brother, Allectus, are good friends, but I... I cannot help myself, Tom Riddle. My heart beats faster whenever you are near. I like you, Tom Riddle. I like you more than treacle tart, more than sugar, more than the finest chocolates from Honeydukes! I like you with every fiber of my being!"

The common room held its breath, the air pregnant with anticipation. Claudia's cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, her doe-like eyes shining with a mixture of vulnerability and hope. Her innocent declaration of love hung in the air, as fragile and delicate as a butterfly's wings.

Tom Riddle, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, regarded her with a mixture of surprise and gentleness. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her body, as if she had been touched by magic itself. His voice, like the soft whisper of the wind through the trees, was warm and reassuring. "Claudia, I must commend you for your sheer courage and honesty. Your feelings are not unappreciated, but I fear I cannot return them in the same manner. Please do not take this the wrong way. You possess incredible qualities that will undoubtedly captivate someone worthy of your love."

Though Claudia's heart sank at his words, she admired his response, understanding the truth in his gentle rejection. Tom had handled her confession with grace and compassion, preserving her dignity and shielding her from the potential ridicule of their peers.

"Thank you, Tom Riddle," she whispered, her voice filled with a bittersweet acceptance. "I appreciate your honesty and value our friendship above all else. Let us continue to support one another, as fellow Slytherins and as friends."

Tom's gaze softened, his eyes reflecting a fleeting glimpse of regret. "Claudia, you are a remarkable young witch. Never doubt your worth or the impact you can make in this world. Your bravery and resilience will take you far. Remember, love comes in many forms and at different times. The right person will appreciate the extraordinary person you are."

With those words, he gently released his hold on her shoulder, allowing her to retreat from the center of attention.

Claudia, now standing amidst the glamorous wedding celebration, smiled softly at the memory. How young and innocent she had been, captivated by Tom Riddle's allure even then. But time had passed, and Claudia understood that. She shook off the reverie, returning her attention to her teasing cousin and brother. "Oh, hush, you two!" Claudia replied with a playful pout. "That was ages ago, and we were but children. Let us focus on celebrating Allectus and Lucretia's joyous union tonight."

“Ah, Claudia, dear cousin, you never fail to provide us with delightful memories!” Abraxas chuckled, his bright blonde hair cascading around his face like a halo. He exchanged a knowing glance with Allectus, their eyes gleaming with mischief.

Allectus, a mischievous smile playing on his lips, added, "Indeed, Claudia, we must commend your courage. Confessing your undying affection for Tom Riddle in front of the entire Slytherin house! A moment that shall forever be etched in our memories."

Nott and Lestrange, who had been standing nearby, couldn't resist joining in on the teasing. Nott, his voice dripping with sarcasm, remarked, "Oh, Claudia, how fortunate we were to witness such a heartfelt declaration of love! I dare say it rivaled the most dramatic scenes in plays."

Lestrange, his eyes twinkling with amusement, interjected, "Indeed! I shall never forget the stunned silence that followed your confession. It was as if the very air held its breath in anticipation of Tom Riddle's response." Claudia, though initially taken aback by their teasing, soon found herself joining in the mirth. "Oh, do cease your mockery, my dear companions!" she playfully retorted.

As the bustling crowd began to simmer down, Claudia found herself seated beside her cousin, Abraxas. They exchanged warm smiles, their conversation a testament to the enduring bond shared between them.

"I've heard you're working with the Ministry of Wizarding Law Enforcement now!" Abraxas exclaimed, genuine pride gleaming in his eyes. He was delighted to see Claudia flourishing in her professional life, ascending the ranks of the magical world. Claudia's cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, her modesty shining through despite her accomplishments.

"And I've heard you and your wife have been blessed with a pregnancy!" Claudia's voice rang out, her eyes sparkling with genuine joy. The news of their impending parenthood had reached her ears through the whispered gossip of high society, and she could not contain her excitement.

Abraxas, ever the astute conversationalist, skillfully redirected the topic, a playful glint in his eyes. "Ah, don't change the subject, dear cousin," he quipped, a sly smile playing upon his lips. "But yes, we have indeed been blessed with the gift of a child.”

Claudia's attention returned to the matter at hand, a graceful smile gracing her features. "Oh, it's nothing extraordinary," she replied, her voice a melodious blend of humility and pride. "Recently, I have been entrusted with a significant role in the Ministry, tasked with the creation and refinement of laws concerning magical artifacts.”

Abraxas nodded approvingly, acknowledging her accomplishments. "Ah, the intricate world of legislation and governance," he remarked, his voice laced with admiration. "I have always known that your intellect and tenacity would lead you to great heights.”

Before she could delve deeper into her recent ventures, she was interrupted by the familiar voice that had once stirred her soul. It was Tom Riddle, the enigmatic figure whose presence had ignited a flame within her young heart. His entrance, marked by an aura of charm and confidence, drew the attention of all who were fortunate enough to witness it.

"My, my, my... Claudia Rosier," he spoke, his voice laced with a hint of amusement and genuine admiration. "It has been far too long since our paths last crossed, and yet, in that time, you have accomplished so much. I must offer my sincerest congratulations."

[satoshi-mochida]

‘Wholesome exploration game’ Caravan SandWitch announced for PS5, Switch, and PC

From Gematsu

Publisher Dear Villagers and developer Plane Toast have announced Caravan SandWitch, a “wholesome exploration game” coming to PlayStation 5, Switch, and PC via Steam in 2024.

Here is an overview of the game, via its Steam page:

About

In Caravan SandWitch, embark on a journey across science-fiction Provence-like world, driven by a mystery through your missing sister that unfolds with each step you take. Interact with the communities on Cigalo, help them with their tasks and meet new people along the way. Take your time to explore the world, whether in your van or on foot. Life is simple: no combat, no death, no timer, just you, your van, and the world.

Key Features

Explore a Provence-Like World – Equipped with your van and an array of essential tools, you set out on a quest to find your missing sister. Upgrade your van throughout your adventure and explorations to open up new passages and ruins. From navigating treacherous terrain to uncovering ancient ruins, every step of your journey brings you closer to unraveling the truth behind your sister’s disappearance.

A Hopeful Post-Apocalypse – From a green planet to a desertic one due to human activities and sur-exploitation; discover on Cigalo the impact of humans and its population through your road trip. Meet the Reinetos, an old aboriginal species, the Robots left behind after the planet exploitation, the humans who stayed after everyone left for another planet, and the mysterious SandWitch. All of them live peacefully in Cigalo and help each other in this unwelcome environment.

Meet a Diverse Cast of Characters – As you interact with the diverse characters you meet along the way, you’ll come to understand that your community is your home. Help everyone and contribute your piece to the edifice, enabling everyone to live in harmony in an environment hostile to all civilizations due to over-exploitation.

A Game Developed for All – Plane Toast made huge importance to create a game in which everyone can feel included, representing their vision of a world where communities help each other to overcome the environmental consequences of our world. Caravan SandWitch is written with an inclusive script, that represents a real community with its people and representation.

Accessibility options are available.

Watch the announcement trailer below. View the first screenshots at the gallery. Visit the official website here.

Announce Trailer

[jackhkeynes]

Man-Made Monsters

excerpt in translation from Monstres per Mans "Man-Made Monsters", a work of fiction published serially from 1888 to 1903 by Carmel fi Domenc, author of parachthon [sci-fi/fantasy] tales and co-owner (with her brother Jered) of the Santrafew [~Boston] periodical Arcans Exumaz "Revealed Mysteries".

Var alandau a Tolon je Maucr, a plaç entarn d'un meis Avril caint freit cos mesteyant. War came to Tolone on Wednesday, some way into a disappointingly chilly April.

Tras l'aubon sceye un foyaç de cry e de soldart par y rout angost demay, tandic meðes haubrjour evolgan y novel ig l'ec intermanen veram y copey Provençal bount ag tarmn Jannesc. The morning was a confusion of shouts and soldiers through the too-narrow streets, even as criers spread the news that these were Provence's own men bound for the Jean frontier.

Flagitaçon a tegmn eð a mansc hellinabr apen dy citað mal gazovað ern colluïð par y çamoc de promeç nobr de stimaç reyal alcant aposc. Demands for shelter and food which the raid-wracked city could barely afford were softened with lofty promises of royal favour to come.

Receut sta lon voç y saivenç ig toð refus volen sforç recevir com offirnç. There was no need to voice the understanding that refusal would be answered with force.

Y centuir costoja l'honour eð y scurtað dy domain reyal, noc de sy souject leyal pu obstroint. The army was concerned with the honour and protection of the king's domain, not of its loyal yet inconvenient subjects.

[reno-matagot]

THE MATAGOT, THE SILVER CAT (FRENCH FOLKLORE)

LE MATAGOT, OU CHAT D'ARGENT : (Folklore de France)

''The silver cat, mandragot or matagot is, in the folklore of Brittany, Gascony, Provence, and Languedoc, a generally black and evil cat obtained by a sorcerer in exchange for his soul. He is supposed to wander through some mysterious places during the night, and return at dawn with a stock of gold louis for his master. If the cat neglects it or does not reward it, the cat becomes offended and can take cruel revenge. Sometimes this cat is said to serve not one, but nine masters, and lead the last one to hell.'' (Source Wikipedia)

🇲🇫

''Le chat d'argent, mandragot ou matagot est, dans le folklore de Bretagne, de Gascogne, de Provence, et du Languedoc, un chat généralement noir et diabolique obtenu par un sorcier en échange de son âme. Il est censé se promener dans quelques lieux mystérieux pendant la nuit, et revenir à l'aube avec un stock de louis d'or pour son maître. Si celui-ci le néglige ou ne le récompense pas, le chat s'offense et peut se venger cruellement. Parfois, ce chat serait censé servir non pas un, mais neuf maîtres, et conduire le dernier en enfer.'' (Source Wikipedia)

[copperbadge]

HEY SAM! Finally bout all three Askaz-Shidvalakia books (pretty sure that's right, feeling very much like Eddie now) and I'm 3 and half chapters in (counting the prologue as a chapter). I don't think I see much mention of him in general questions, but do you have ideas about Chef Simon/expand on him more later on in Fete, or do you have a side story/mini fic planned for him? I don't know what it is, but I really like him (along with the mains, of course. Bouncing between Eddie and Alanna as my fav right now, but Jerry just appeared so who knows).

I honestly wanted to wait to get all three once you announced LATT just so I'd have all three at once, plus I knew I would need the literary mental boost as winter kept coming, and I planned to get them around Christmas then I forgot then like--just a few weeks ago I remembered they existed again and bought them before I forgot again. Just like I hoped it is perking me up a bit as I'm going through a bit of right now, so I'm happy I waited. So far I'm really loving it, thank you so much.

HEY YA :D You got close with Askazer-Shivadlakia! :D It's the spirit that counts. It's not like it's going to be mistaken for somewhere else, anyway :D

Why did I name this country an eight-syllable name? Why would I do that to myself? Mysteries. In any case I'm glad you're enjoying them :D I think you might be a Jerry fan in the end!

Simon doesn't show up a lot in the books following Fete, although I try to work him in there when I can. He does have his own book coming eventually, probably after Royals/Ramblers, although possibly a bit further out, depends on what catches fire for me. The idea is that the book will be partly traditional narrative and partly essays from his recipe website, which show him to be...I wouldn't call it an unreliable narrator, but perhaps a not entirely truthful one :D

Simon's book is currently called The Chicken Salad War, and is about him discovering a rival in a chef who has moved to Fons-Askaz and is drawing a lot of attention for their cooking. He ends up having to plan a food festival with said rival chef, during which time of course they fall for each other. The food festival culminates with a competition to see who makes the best chicken salad, although I won't spoil who wins.

I'm still working on who this rival chef will be; I haven't pinned down much, not even gender, though I'm leaning male. It's fun coming up with a story for Simon -- he's been with the family for a long time and known Gregory and the others basically their whole lives, so he has a lot to talk about. :D

I had advertised my services as an elite personal chef through exclusive channels, and had a number of offers, but the Shivadh king's offer swayed me because of what he told me when we met: that he had only a passing interest in gourmet food, and that he was hiring the best chef he could find not as a status symbol or from personal desire, but as a gift for his wife on the occasion of their fifteenth wedding anniversary. I was deeply charmed by the idea of such a gesture, especially explained in the king's excellent if Swiss-accented French, and pleased that he was also willing to hire my brother Hugo to serve as palace sommelier, a position which had previously gone unfilled. 

King Michaelis and his wife Queen Miranda had a little boy of four, and the family had recently suffered a tragedy which meant they were also sometime-caretakers of a young girl, their son's cousin. I knew I had chosen my new job correctly when, on arriving in the kitchen for the first time, two solemn little children were waiting to greet me in prattling French, with strong Provencal accents gleaned from their mothers, who were of the Askazer side of the country, which borders on that region.