They went south. An easy decision since they spoke the language, although Byron was going to need to chisel the aristocratic edges off his accent. Not that Reba mentioned it. She just emphasised her way of pronouncing words every now and again, he caught on quickly. In the moments Bryon let himself be thirteen, he'd …
“I think I’m going to be sick.” Piety did look unwell. Anya fetched the washbowl from its stand in the corner and set it on her friend’s lap. Then she sat beside her, not too close, just in case, and asked. “Why?” “Papa’s in a private meeting in his study with Lord Craigmore.” Anya frowned, …
Bryon returned with the city guards behind him. The guard captain looked over their captured quarry, then asked. “Any reason you’ve gagged Prince Grayden, as well as trussed him like a pig for the spit?” Reba tried to look bored. “He kept trying to do deals with me. Said I could take my lad there,” …
Reba tensed at the sound of running feet, headed her way. Beside her, Byron pulled his scarf up to cover his nose and mouth. Between that and his deep hood, you could barely tell there was a person in the shadow. A figure appeared at the end of the road they’d been assigned. He probably …
Anya’s mother handed back the square of embroidered linen. “Adequate.” That was high praise indeed, Lady Fitzgerald didn’t believe in excessive praise, or excessive anything really. Anya took the handkerchief. “Thank you, Mother.” “You need to excel in your accomplishments, Anya, if you’re to have any chance of holding a young man’s attention. You have …
“If they catch him, they deport him, right?” Reba looked up from sharpening her knives. “Yes.” “He’d be chained up, dumped in the dankest hold of some cargo ship and dumped on the docks of Ettala like the trash he is.” Byron sounded delighted at the prospect. Reba shook her head. “He’s of the Ettalan …
Sarah sighed as she looked at the mess drowning the sitting room. She just could not be bothered. That was the problem with long projects and unchanging days, apathy came to visit and refused to leave. She nudged a discarded jumper out of her way with one foot. Ennui would be so much more satisfying. …
It wasn’t fair. Not only did Piety have a name that fooled everyone into thinking she was as angelic as she looked, she also moved across the ballroom floor like a willow in the breeze. Anya had heard her own dancing described as ‘efficient’ and ‘technically correct but…’ a few too many times to want …
All the guests had arrived, at least all the guests Anya’s parents deemed worthy of a personal greeting, and conversation bubbled across the ballroom, accented by the chink and ting of porcelain and crystal. The Fortescue family were known for the quality of both their chef and their cellar, and the visitors were making the …
Anya stomped across the manor’s lawn to the woodland beyond. Whose stupid idea had it been to invite Lord Bernard to visit? He was a chauvinist of the worst kind, and she was two insults and a superior smirk away from smacking him over the head with the dining room’s carriage clock. Even her father …
The DNA of Stories 