“Charmed, I’m sure.” Lady Charlotte’s words dripped acid. Even someone as dense as Lord Bernard felt their burn, and squirmed. He attempted what he probably thought was a rakish grin. “I’m terribly sorry to interrupt your conversation, but I’ve come to steal Miss Anya away.” Anya flicked her fan open and grimaced at her cousin …
Misty dashed across the room, chasing the end of the ribbon Byron was flicking about. Reba was fairly sure the giggling farm girl who’d gifted him her apple-red ribbon at their last stopping point did not have this fate in mind for it. Or maybe she did, she cooed over the snarling kitten as so …
Byron’s new cat crouched in the corner of their inn room and growled. It had been fine until the inn’s serving girl had waltzed in with (barely) warm washing water and a request to. “See the sweet little kitty.” Byron had nodded to his bed, where the cat, named Misty for reasons beyond Reba’s understanding, …
“It’s a clue!” Emma withered Stephanie with a look. “It’s an Easter egg hunt, it doesn’t have clues, it has chocolate.” Stephanie remained annoyingly unwithered. “Maybe for you, my Mum likes to put a twist on things.” Of course she did, Stephanie’s mum was one of those parents who did ‘enriching activities’ after school and …
They were camping that night, set up in a roadside clearing used by trade caravans who’s plodding horses and bulky wagons couldn’t make the full run through the forest between dawn and dusk. It was a large clearing with a well-worn path to a wide, clear stream nearby. Tonight, the clearing was empty of everyone …
Anya’s mother poked her in the back. “Go and greet your favourite cousin.” “How can she be my favourite cousin when she’s barely one at all? She’s some sort of fifth cousin, twice removed; and claiming we’re related will make me look like the worst sort of encroaching mushroom.” Lady Charlotte Fontenbras, granddaughter of the …
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 …
The DNA of Stories 