Chapter Fifty-One

Four years later …

“Morning Simon,” I said as I sat down at the kitchen table.

“Morning Mr. Ryder, Miss Abby’s castle is coming along nicely,” Simon said.

“I still can’t believe you’re building her a castle for her birthday,” I said.

“She’s a special little girl, not much I wouldn’t do for her,” he said.

“Not much … she’s got you wrapped around her little finger,” Mary-Joe said as Simon smiled sheepishly.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit much?” I asked.

“Not for her, a princess deserves a castle,” Simon said.

“What’s her sixteenth going to look like?” I asked.

“She’ll probably want a convertible,” Mary-Joe said.

Wynter and Milo had turned ten and Abigail was almost five. Mary-Joe had met a nice lone dragonkin man and they’d gotten married two years ago. They both lived in the cottage next to the house and now Simon acted as our caretaker. We now had chickens and a vegetable garden in one corner of the farm and we now also sported about five horses and about thirty sheep that he took care o