#Chapter 91: Blood Wood Banquet

Olivia POV I had always admired blood woods. Unlike the rather ugly bloodwood trees of southern Africa (so named because they seemed to “bleed” red sap when cut), blood woods’ deep scarlet color, elegantly twisted trunk, and thickly canopied dark green leaves made them a delightful focal point of any forest or garden. We had several in the garden where I grew up. They were too delicate for me to climb as a child, but their branches hosted a hanging red moss that varied in color from light pink to, well, blood red. It was illegal to pick the moss from the tree, but I used to collect the fallen and fragrant moss from the ground, heat it in the oven to take care of mites and other pests, and then weave little creatures and shapes from the thin strands. Of course, doing that would dye my hands red for days, but fortunately that only made my mother laugh. I felt a pang as I looked over the guest list for the banquet. I loved my mother fiercely and had been so proud of her for being