When my mother died, she gave me an apple that would enable a woman to have a child. I kept it for a long time.
Then, when the aging queen realized that she might never have an heir, I gave her the apple.
After, I returned to the convent where I live. It is located underground, in the hollow of a mountain.
Here our beds are made of solid rock, and all the nuns sleep around a single light. It is our job to spin by day and keep the light burning through the night. May it never go out. Whoever does not tend it will die.