Over the past few years, Canterbury Bell had witnessed more human writers, uninspired by their city surroundings, venturing wide-eyed to the woods. And with more artists comes a certain kind of fairy. Frankly, a fairy tough for even Bell to tame. The Fées Vertes showed little respect for woodland conventions. They played wild and late, dressed in little more than wisps of fog, and mercilessly teased the local boys. In fact, the same talent to which gave muse to artists and authors also seduced imps, elves, and sprites. As well as other creatures. Things always ended badly—the defenestration of adversaries, rent petals, and tears. And the Vertes, capricious by nature, would tire of the attentions of their new plaything and seek the protection of Bell’s office from stalking. This is how the rule of law came to be.