20TH MARCH 1889, WEDNESDAY, EVENING. THE MAZE, RAVENSMOOR MANOR GROUNDS. FT. @ferihas.
There were few people Andy would willingly get lost with, and Puck from A Midsummer Night’s Dream wasn’t one of them. But he didn’t mind getting lost with Feriha, even though she had promised that she knew where she was going, and now he was sure that she didn’t. Because as they had wandered the hedge maze at Ravensmoor over the past half hour, he’d slowly realized that while his friend looked at home among the greenery—looking delicate and fairylike in her tulle dress and gossamer wings, with a crown of flowers woven into her long, wavy brown hair—she was also majestically, spectacularly tipsy.
“Feriha, please.” He sighed from his crouched position along the path, lowering his brand-new Kodak camera to look up at her. “If you keep pulling faces, it’ll get stuck that way.” Hearing his mother’s words come out of his own mouth made Andy laugh, the sound rich and warm as he shook his head. “Yeah, I’m not sure if these photographs are going to frighten ghosts away or call to them. Can I please have one presentable photograph come out of this impromptu photoshoot, Ri?” he pleaded. “For old times’ sake.” A grin: “I need to show Gilly that his gift had some good use.”