Her sparse stone-floored study was enveloped in the warm hug of the small wood fire crackling in the fireplace. Rather than accepting one of the few invitations those close to her had extended, Minerva had decided to spend the evening of her birthday curled up on her favorite chair with one of her books.
Lulled into the peaceful embrace of the gentle rain falling against the study's window Minerva made sure to take in every single word she read. Glasses perched on her nose, warm cup of tea fuming next to her, she was indulging in a rare moment of quiet peace. A gift to herself. One she foolishly thought would not be interrupted.