Suddenly the tavern doors flew open to admit Madame Fleur, the town dressmaker and well-known gossip. "Everyone, you've got to come. That little cottage, the one on that abandoned farm, it's been bought and the new owners are moving in today."

New neighbors? That was strange. Not many people wanted to live in such a backwater hamlet. But if it were true, than a proper welcome was called for. And if it was really just an old man and his daughter, they would need help. Strong, muscular help.

"Okay everyone, let's go!" Astor directed, leading the way. He knew that old cottage well. For many years it had sat empty. It was the last vestiges of a terrible tragedy that had occurred when Astor was just a little boy.

It was as Madame Fleur had said. A small family, only an old man and his daughter, were moving into the abandoned home. They didn't seem to have much. Just some old furniture and clothes and a cow and a chicken and two other boxes.

Astor’s eyes immediately fell on what seemed to be an angel. She was absolutely mystifying in her beauty. He approached first. "Good morning."