The three servants sat with MeiLan at the stone table in the garden. The morning sun was just burning off the last of the dew, and the air was crisp and fresh. Butterflies danced from flower to flower, and small birds were flitting from branch to branch among the trees in search of their breakfast.
"It's the first of the month," MeiLan said, smiling at her servants. She passed each of them a small sachet containing their salaries. Emilian took the purse of coins with an expression of wonder and turned it over in his hands. He didn't dare to open it and count the money, but he couldn't stop his lips from smiling. After years of begging, it felt good to have his own money in hand, money that he could spend on anything he chose.
