But the strong smell of the ale seemed to turn my stomach, and I had to make a hurried excuse and retreat outside to retch up my breakfast under a rowan bush. I supposed I had eaten too much. I always seemed to be hungry these days. Later, I felt fine, and dismissed my malady as nothing important. But when it happened again the next day, and the next, I stayed away from the kitchens in the mornings, restricting myself to pruning, sweeping, harvesting seed, drying and storing herbs.
sweet baby jesus, if she’s preggo i stg
