January 12, 2013
January 8, 2013
Danielle Greaves, had died as a young woman. She was of no significance. She delivered pizza, a peasant food. She was a slave to the pizza chef, who saved coin by underfeeding her. Despite this the girl was good, stealing not a pie. The malnourished waif perished with her final delivery. It is not Danielle that is of interest, but her only mourner, a young woman who knew her not.
December 8, 2012
December 7, 2012
December 5, 2012
December 3, 2012
December 2, 2012
Don Lothario sauntered into the tavern. He passed the empty dance floor and went straight for the drink. No sooner had he sat down, then a swish of skirts settled in next to him.
She followed me here? This is no place for an unattended woman.
"What is a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?"
"I - I saw you walk in."
Well, I can't blame a woman for following me can I?
December 1, 2012
After his evening meal Don Lothario sat awhile. He was none for cleaning the dishes.
Why won't Kaylynn come and clean them? I gave her what she wanted. I don't understand! What's that? From the open window...could it be Kaylynn? Footsteps in the distance, coming this way, taken so the skirts don't rustle....not like Kaylynn, but maybe if she were hurrying to see me - I mean clean the dishes...
Don Lothario rushed to the door, then slowed himself way down, so as to look as if he just happened to be stepping outside for some fresh air. He turned casually to see who doth approach.
November 30, 2012
November 29, 2012
November 28, 2012
November 26, 2012
Lady Mary-Sue had been spending a lot of time with Princess Cassandra. Given the failed wedding, and that the princess is his wife's closest friend, Lord Daniel Pleasant expected nothing less. He was greatly pleased. One might think this is because his wife is so kind hearted, or that through her he has connections with the royal family. Lord Daniel has a better reason, and here she comes now.
November 15, 2012
It does not matter that he is a merchant man, Mortimer reminded himself, again. It matters only that Cassandra wants to marry him - and that she will not be an old maid. Mostly that she will not be an old maid. Maybe this is not a good idea. Of course it is not a good idea. A father should choose his daughter's husband. But how could I possibly say no when she asked me with her Bella eyes? Bella.
I cannot escape a wedding without thinking of Bella. As if I could pass a single day without thinking of her. I told Cassandra not to invite her. She won't come. Stolen by fairies she was! Cassandra disagrees. She thinks her mother is lost and confused. She would be an old woman by now. I see her when I look at Cassandra, but the girl is more like me, keeping to herself, falling in love with the first person to show a flicker of interest. She will be crushed when her mother does not show. So will I.