Esme walked out of the room after she'd given Beowulf what he'd eat. She knew the kind of risk she was taking bringing him into the palace and sometimes felt like she wasn't being sensible. But at the same time, Esme couldn't resist helping Beowulf out. Her mind kept going back to the smile that he smiled when she accepted to bring him into the palace. She smiled as she recalled that look of happiness on Beowulf's face not realizing that she'd just walked back into the kitchen.
"What are you smiling about, Esme?" her mother asked as she stirred a large bowl of flour and milk on the kitchen island which was built of a grey stone that glittered in the moonlight which was let in by the large windows of the royal kitchen.
Esme jerked and her face reddened. "Mother..." she cooed. "Must I tell you everything?" Esme asked as she rushed to the sink area and wash out her plates.
