My latest traveller came the other way, up the mountain, rather than down. Most going in that direction pass my home early enough that they don't care to stop. The pass is ahead, beckoning with the promise of a crest and a downhill run by evening if they keep going. It's true too, they will …
Nathaniel Gracen, Imperial Prime Minister, hoped he looked calm as he walked down the endless corridor to the Dowager Empress’s apartments. Her Imperial Majesty did not have favourites among her grandchildren, except when she did, and everyone knew she saw a great deal of herself in Princess Isabella. Who was about to be married and …
Isabella let her four sisters push in front of her to greet their grandmother. Each week, the Dowager Empress invited five of her granddaughters to tea. No one knew how she decided on which to choose, but Isabella was uncomfortably aware of how frequently her company was requested, then ignored. She trailed the others to …
It had been years since Tommaso had spent time in the Imperial Archive. Sure, he’d walked through the main doors any number of times, but he hadn’t been further than the main reading room, where he’d lurked awkwardly behind whichever Imperial prince or princess he was guarding that day as they ordered a copy of …
Today was a foraging day. The garden was well in hand, the bees content, and the Holmeshallow Farm children both away on school camps (for which I think their teachers should be given medals, and a week away at the most relaxing country spa you can find). My foraging basket sits by the back door, …
Pauline stared at the red jelly on the plate in front of her, in the shape of a slowly melting star, what were the strange cubes inside? She wasn’t curious enough to pick up her spoon and find out. Around her, people were talking, laughing, and pretending to eat their desserts. The man sitting next …
“He’s the Global Head of Finance for Midas Private Bank, and went to Rugby and Oxford and turned down a place on the Olympic team to build houses in Africa…” Gretel tuned out. Sondra’s new boyfriend sounded too good to be true, literally. He was either a fabulously skilled and plausible liar, or Sondra was …
Matt stared at the periodic table of elements pinned to the wall. He'd put it there at the start of term, a symbol of his new life, his new focus. It wasn't working. He was supposed to be exploring the mysteries of atoms and reactions. Instead, he was collapsed on the creaky, lumpy single bed …
It's been unseasonably warm this week and someone (or something) has been using my garden sprinklers to cool off. I'd not normally be bothered but whoever it is as no concept of moderation and has all but drowned the herb beds, not to mention leaving the hydrangeas wet, in the full glare of the sun. …
Marie was baking. Nothing unusual there. Jamie had never known her big, cosy kitchen to not smell of fresh bread, or chocolate cake, or crisp, buttery biscuits. It felt different though - tense - with a threat of burnt sugar. He stayed by the door, watching Marie stir a dark, lumpy mixture, her brows creased …
The DNA of Stories 