And he came to me, star browed and milk breathed, all gentleness and yet as tall as I was with those great, heavy eyes. He searched my pockets for sugar cubes and I laughed, which startled him. Neither of us was very brave, but we each wanted something desperately from the other. I held out my hand, cold fingers, silver rings and hope, he pawed the ground in answer. I knew at that moment he would soon forget me, when I no longer came with the dawn and the dew, when I slipped from his world with the last of the summer.

Seventeen hours in cloud land, then on to yesterday. I doze through the daylight with stories whispered in my ears and then, only then, does the journey begin. Read. The chapter opens with one Lost Princess, looking for ancient kingdoms revealed to her twelve year old self in the stained pages of second hand books. Following crumpled maps from Radnor Mere to Kanchenjunga and over Paradise Hill to the bay where the evening primroses grow. Two miles for each page, she walks through a land made of books, a kingdom dressed in stories, but will she find her inkworld? Her heart is made of words, words and ink, afterall.

I will be back in a month, dearhearts.