Marital Arts Part 18 - The Fruit of Lost LoveThe Atlantic Ocean seemed unusually fervent that midmorning, heavy breakers spraying froth over rounded rocks, colouring them black and shining with wetness and sending droplets cascading high up in the air, before withdrawing in a whirl of drenching green flurry. The sea spoke forcefully of restiveness and alteration, of the approaching autumn and the storms to come with it. There was a tang in the air too, a reminiscence of the summer which was coming to an end, a biting chill which nipped the noses and the chins of the man and woman on horseback who were taking the meandering track across the dunes, enjoying the solitude of twosomeness in a way they hadn't done since bygone eras.
"Tell me about him!" Oberon asked and Titania regarded her husband, where he rode his white stallion, back straight as a rod and his dark red cloak with the hood up, hiding most of his face. Still she knew there was no hostility there. No emotions for her to be anxious over. For the first time in years she