Eliza had never owned a home of her own. When she'd traveled to Rharne from Scalvoris through the portal with Smudge and her hound, with all of her meager, worldly belongings stuffed in an oversized sack, even then she hadn't been planning to buy one. She'd thought that as usual, she'd find a place in Rharne proper to rent. Since she'd recently come into a bit of money left to her by a distant relation, she thought she could even afford to rent a nice bungalow in the Glass Quarter. It would have been a sizeable step up from the plain and drafty little cottage she'd been renting back on Scalvoris.
But when she'd left the offices where she'd spoken to someone about renting a place, she hadn't turned towards the Glass Quarter at all, but towards the outskirts of town instead. She'd been told about a little house for rent in Caervalle Town, and from what she understood, it was a small, pretty and peaceful place, in a beautiful setting besides. The idea had appealed to her, living away from the busy noise, the hustle and bustle of Rharne.
She'd seen the house, and had thought she would rent it. But that was before she'd seen the stone cottage at the edge of the village. It wasn't for rent, but there was a handpainted sign in the yard, declaring the cottage for sale. From the front, the whimsical rock home with its two stories and whimsical stone carvings, looked quite small. It was narrow, side to side but as she was soon to discover, when viewed from one end to the other, it was much longer. Deceptively so, since it was nestled in a small grove of old shade trees.
What really captivated Eliza however was the small moat, or maybe it was only a small pond in the front, with a little island of stone rimmed grass in the center. A place to plant a pretty garden with a bench, there was a sort of free standing weather vane there. A whimsically fashioned one wrought from copper or bronze maybe. Eliza didn't really know her metals. She was enchanted by the miniature moat all the same. It reminded her of the often dry and crumbling moat that surrouded the ruined keep that she and Poppy had lived in together over a century ago now.
She'd been a child with a very big imagination back then, and she'd often daydreamed, imagining the keep during it's glory trials, with bright colored banners all along the walls, snapping merrily in the breeze. She'd been a princess in her dreams then, and Poppy the elderly but still vibrant king. The moat had always been filled to the brim with clear and cool blue water, and there were never fewer than a dozen swans bobbing along on its surface.
The little stone cottage wasn't a castle, the moat was hardly a proper one in the scheme of things, and the lone duck paddling round in circles looking for minnows was hardly a swan. None of it was even very practical. But at that moment, Eliza knew that she wouldn't be renting the perfectly sensible house nearer the middle of the village, and that she'd be spending most of what she'd inherited, to purchase the cottage.
