Copenhagen
September 1636
 

The shop was not busy, only five or six patrons. Fatmir sat at his customary table, and sipped his chocolate. It was such a different thing, this drink from the Americas. It was not coffee, and yet, it was dark and rich. It was heavily spiced, and only slightly sweet. Yet there was something fascinating about it, not only the way it tasted, but the way it felt flowing down his throat, and filling his . . .

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- The Grantville Gazette Staff