And it’s been the ruin of many a poor boy and God I know I’m one…
Hybel 6th, 1513 – Finessa Estate, River Sulis, Lothianshire, Albion
The window Charlie was looking out rattled, as probably every window in the entire estate as a door slammed above.
“What d’you think that’s about?” Sev asked from the place where he lounged on his bed, a book propped up on his stomach, wrinkling the silk of his waistcoat. Charlie tipped his head to the side and shrugged. Leo was home and he’d just gotten back from the FitzChivalry estate. It could be anything. Vivi was a powder keg whenever their brother was around. He’d suspected that something was–wrong–between Leo and Vivi probably before Vivi and Leo suspected that something was wrong between them.
Promise that forever we will never get better at growing up and learning to lie I’m on my way back home now. Good lives are gold, like the oldest story. Will mine be told while I’m still young and horney? I know my role is to be a confusion. Set the clock back when I’m growing old
Hybel 2nd, 1513 – Finessa Estate, River Sulis, Lothianshire, Albion
Knowing it would be all too brief, but enjoying it all the more for the brevity, Firenze Finessa, known to most as “Squeak” pulled his wife a little closer to his side. It was a bright, sunny summer day, his younger three children were here, and they were expecting company in the form of old friends who’d be staying for a few days. If he thought about it that way he could almost forget all of the stress that came with why their company was coming, of what was happening here.
It’s easier to lie to me than to yourself. Forget about your friends, you know they’re going to say we’re bad for each other, but we ain’t good for anyone else.
Seryl 10th, 1513 – Carico Estate, River Sulis, Lothianshire, Albion
“You should go over and talk to him, Caroline.” Marianne’s cousin, Babette said from her place on one of the settees in the lounge.
“It doesn’t do for a lady to be so bold, Babette.” Caroline demurred, fluffing her hair like a ninny. “Besides, it’s just plain rude to interrupt.”
It’s bitter. Tastes a lot like winter. And will it release me?
Darid 14, 1513
Lianne closed her eyes, breathing in the intoxicating smell of roses in bloom, even though the pavilion overhead kept the worst of the sun off, the warm light was a palpable pressure, like the soft hand of a lover, not the cruel task master that it would be in just a few weeks most likely. It was so rare anymore, with the children grown or very nearly, that she had time to sit in her own garden and host a tea party. It seemed to happen so fast.
Surely just a few days ago her little Vivi, now a bright vivacious young woman, one who would make a wonderful bride for Prince Nathaniel if she would just stop being so stubborn, had been a little girl in a violet and white sprigged dress, begging her to stop her research to play teaparty with her dolls. Or to not go to court so they could pick flowers in the wildflower gardens. If only Lynnette didn’t need her so often! Maybe they could have done that more often.
“Got these chains hanging around our necks, people want to strangle us with them before we take our first breath.”
Imsdyn 10th, 1513 – Fitz-Chivalry estate, River Sulis, Lothianshire, Albion
Marianne brushed nervously at the horse hair that still clung to the skirt of her blue riding habit. “We just got back from our riding lesson.” Vivianne pointed out, tossing a strand of hair over her shoulder. “No one is going to expect us to be completely spotless.”