Watching the heavens above with my keen, blue eyes, I fasten the last link of my chestplate, pulling it tightly against my ribs until I feel the familiar squeeze around my chest. The heavens are bright today, not a cloud in sight. Wind filters through the field, whipping a few longer strands of hair around my face. The gnawing feeling in my stomach won’t quit. Turning around, I take a deep breath and count my companions, all of whom were still getting dressed in their chainmail. I think one of them might die today.
Securing my sword onto my hip, I trudge to the stables, where only a few servants still linger to help my companions and I. A small blond stablehand leads my steed over, and I mount it with the ease of a weathered rider.
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It’s blazing hot, and we stumble into a new village, one with a large tavern and plenty of women that keep most of the knights entranced. My king sits to the side, uninterested in the women who drink with our companions. He instead sips at his meade and thinks of his wife, a goddess of a woman who sits on her throne and braids her handmaidens’ locks with the skill of a seamstress. I join him, and together, we sit silently, the tavern’s light flickering off his stone face and my soft features.
“Guinevere’s expecting a child,” he tells me as Trystan drunkenly dances with a young blonde, “but something tells me it’s not right.”
“The village that I was born in is a day’s ride from here,” I sip at my ale, and my king replies with silence.
The next morning we find ourselves in trouble. A group of mercenaries leaping from the bushes caught us off guard, and we crawled to the next town, my town, two horses short and Trystan gravely injured. He makes it through the night, but the terrible feeling deep inside me still does not disappear, so I leave the inn we’re sleeping in to go exploring.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, m’lady,” I tell a pretty seamstress late in the afternoon, “do you happen to know of a Badrick and Mildred?”
“I’m sorry sir,” she places her basket of clothes down on the ground near her feet, “but they died shortly after their daughter Héloise left them. If you asked me, I think they died of heartbreak; they
I had not expected to feel, after an unknown amount of time, the gentle sensation of a small creature slobbering all over my face. In fact, I had not expected to feel anything. My resignation to the dark caverns of the hallowed Hades and the ghostly Persephone was fabricated out of the sheer desperation and weakness of my mortal body. After all these years, my spirit still clung onto the possibility of seeing those comforting peaks of Ithaca before I slipped the coin to the pocket of the ferryman.
Bahauddin grabbed for a place to rest his hand while he lifted his feet, climbing through the shaft, out of the caverns. Every crack of stone was filled with overgrown moss, As he rose, he could see the sky was just before nightfall. The only sound around was the howl of the wind, and the keys clanging against each other like a windchime during a breezy spring afternoon. Ascending up the shaft, he was cautiously concentrating for each and every placement of his hands and feet, careful not to slip. Bahauddin’s hand grasped the top of the shaft. The sky was painted with brush strokes of blood orange, reflecting a glare off the keys. Outside, it had looked like a warzone. No buildings fully structured, not a person in sight, just crumbs
I can hear the White Rabbit 's watch tocking and ticking yet I don 't see him. He is late again. I might just fire him or water him, however, that phrase goes. I let my devious grin emerge from the dust to see him in the dark dry woods, he doesn 't see me but I see him in his half ironed quarter buttoned shirt. I am not a bad kitty, I simply don’t play nice with the kittens.
When I awoke, I mounted Nevada again and started making my way down the slope again, weaving in and out of thorn bushes and nearly black pine trees. Wolves and other beasts lurk in the distance around us, but so far we have encountered no such dangers. I’m more concerned with this lord sending his men after me. As I have described previously, we didn’t part on the most ideal terms. He was furious, that man. He tried to strike me. He tried to slice me to ribbons with his sword. He tried to shoot me with his gun. That wicked man…as much as I detested him I cannot help but feel for him and his loss. Everyone’s
His palm imprinted through layers of my skirt and lace panties onto my arse cheek.
The night had been long and difficult on both my mind and body. Every time I closed my eyes, I remembered that if those rogues had chosen, I'd have died in my sleep. Every noise I heard; the creaking of trees; snapping of twigs; shuffling of leaves, and I was sure the rogues had found me. Each time, I'd sit up instantly, weapon in hand, ready to fight to the death, and each time nothing happened, nothing came charging out of the gloom to end my life.
“For months after the slaughter, I had terrible nightmares of my family being killed. I'm surprised Owen didn't toss me out, the way I sobbed and screamed all night long. Thank God he was so patient and kind. The only way I survived through that time was by imagining my mother there with me, hugging me close. Some nights, it felt as if she really was.
Father nodded and patted Yale’s hand. “I’ll tell you everything I recall. But first, let me say this: I want you to do what you love. You have a gift with horses, and I’ve seen you calm the most unmanageable. Horses are crucial to our survival. We need them for transportation, in farming, and battle. Little is more important than their care and training.”
“Henry,” called Mr. Wakens, “let me apologize for my daughter’s rudeness to your son. I am to blame for this misunderstanding. My wife insured me that she had informed our daughter to make herself available at the young Masters convenience during Spring Break. I am unaware what had occurred, but I will insure his personal servant, Mr. Aitken has her number to call for her to…”
"Earlier, father walked up to me and told me brother was being exiled, I could tell, there wasn't a hint of pain in his voice.,
But miraculously, the vizier to us to come to a complete halt but with my lack of sense direction, my foot caught on to a small rock on the ground. I thought I could save myself from falling fully, but against my better judgment I was half way to the floor and half of my body made contact with the person in front of me and the ground. My hands and knees grazed along the floor and pieces of skin tore from them and a spark of a horrible sting struck through my hands and knees. As if things could not get worst, Ahmet screamed for a soldier to grab me and the boy I fell upon. As the soldier grabbed me, I finally inspected my hands and realized that they were bleeding and covered with things from the ground. As we were both dragged and placed in front of Ahmet, he yelled what is WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS AND WHAT ARE YOUR NAMES? I quietly said Milos Petrov, do to the amount of pain I was in, but to my right I heard the boy say Natanail Angelovski. Ahmet replied with don’t you boys let this happen again and hurry up and get back into line. Ahmet stood in front us and said that for the next two weeks we will be staying in villages only for one night, and that if we spoke to the villagers about are pain or of us wishing to go back home that we would be severely punished. As Ahmet told us to continue to march, I could see in the distance one of the villages we would stay in and as if they
Mrs mallard believes that her husband was died. Her sister josephine told her that was been in the newspaper that her husband as died. He had only taken the time to assure himself its truth by a second telegram, and had hastened to forestall, and careful, less tender friend in bearing the sad message. There's never a nice or better way to say or tell someone that one of their family had died. Is a difficult,but there’s only one way to know the true no matter what.
The king looks to him but does not meet his gaze. “Marriage was never a thought after…,” he
There once was a king named King Porter Clemings who ruled over the kingdom of Clemington. In the kingdom, there is a little town called Littenburg, which was known for farming and delivering the finest wheat to the kingdom. The king of Clemington, King Porter Clemings, once visited this town to inspect a rather interesting incident. Rumors say that in this town of Littenburg lives a beautiful woman named Fiona Wallace. As expected, being the “gentleman” he is despite having a wife and a daughter of five years, King Porter travels to Littenburg, using inspection of crops as an excuse, and was not disappointed as he starts an affair. And thus, another princess was born.
It was Halloween and, being the super mature teenager that I was, I went trick-or-treating. Going house to house and getting practically thrown at with candy just seemed entirely worth it. Considering I was 5,3, I wasn 't surprised that I could pull off being a 12-year-old for one night without calling attention to myself.