Gilpean 15th

  It happened that Klove helped me with shaving my beard, though contrary to my wishes he shaved the whole of it. As you well know Sieghild I have ever been a man proud of my moustaches, since I could grow them, shaving them with considerable regret as most men of our nation are wont to keep them of mild length.

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  So that when I beheld my own face, in the bit of glass, I was stricken.

  Seeing my dismay, Klove snorted dismissively, “It is the latest fashion in the south, especially in the lands of Doria.”

  “But tell me am I a Dorian or a Volkholantian man?”

  “A man nonetheless, though I suppose not quite one given you are a monk,” Klove retorted scathingly.

  “A novice, one who aspires to become a douvard rather than a proper monk,” I corrected him stubbornly to which he remained silent aware of the difference.

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