Well-crossed Threads
Monday, October 31st, 2011And yet, when word by courier was sent to his home in the City of Elua, that his old ghost-touched friend waited in hope to see him in Marsilikos, he was not of a mind to say no.
And yet, when word by courier was sent to his home in the City of Elua, that his old ghost-touched friend waited in hope to see him in Marsilikos, he was not of a mind to say no.
“Qui est-il?” came an annoyed, slightly drunken voice from the old-fashioned buzzer.
“C’est moi, Oncle,” Anne said, testing out her rusty French. “Your nièce, Anne. Let me up, it’s cold out here!”
There was little she could do, however, because necromancy and child-bearing did not, all the books told her, mix.
This is the first year in so many she would not spend in the company of the Royal Family, and perhaps Favrielle no Eglantine was the most upset at her absence.
There was one thing last to do, and that was to visit the High King.