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[hustonnn]

UPDATE because I bought more then 30 horses after this post...

(not in particular order)

96. Step - I finished design courses and named this bud after this uhhh company (i think it's correct to name it that). A difficult period in my life that instead of 2.5 years lasted 5 97. Невозмутимая Элегия (Unperturbed Elegy) - all this horses was bought at sale. I should have bought them all, I love Andalusians. This beauty doesn't have much of a story, just a cool name and color. 98. Серая Ладья (Gray Rook) - badass name, nothing more 99. Древняя Кровь (Elder Blood) - hey Ciri hey girllll

100. Лохматый Скакун (Shaggy Steed) - mini mustang 101. Соленая Карамель (Salty Caramel) - I LOVE DARTMOORS I need more coats 102. Honey Moon - I don't like my first NSH, so when I had some extra money I decided to buy this cutie. I didn't regret it, maybe I'll get another one of this breed when there's a discount 103. Серебристая Диадема (Silver Diadem) - I bought more for the collection, but she's cute. I haven't ridden her yet, so I can't give my full opinion, but the poor thing looks broken. It's a shame SSO doesn't fix their animations over time

104. North Light - I didn't know it shimmered so beautifully!!!!! I'm in love 105. Solid Mane - silly me 106. Coffee Cloud - such a gorgeous non-magical coat!!!! and fluffy!!! 107. Snow Lion - fits perfectly. would be cool to have feline magic horse huh 108. Nugget - nuggets 109. Ginger - the mane reminds me of a cookie Papita

110. Cinder Rose - roses suits this horse like no other + cinder sounds mysterious 111. Bay Griffin - I'm not me without a bay horse 112. Miracle - I'M IN LOVE with new norikers. I'll definitely buy other one when I choose proper name (it'd be another Ciri because of a new witcher game) 113. Midnight Dove - song by Shawn James. I thought this little horse would be my 100th, but then the Halloween Seeles came out... and my sister, with whom I bought 100th horse together, didn't want this noriker (I don't really like it now too) 114. Unicorn Attack - imposter. such a cool horse!!! didn't understand hate towards Halloween horses this year

115. Lucky Dice - fluffy cutie 116. Vanilla - I've been dreaming about a Haflinger for a long time, so why not making my inner child happy 117. Ghost Rider - (Ghost) Riders In The Sky by Johnny Cash 118. Blue Hour - another one of my dream horses 119. Королевская Орхидея (Royal Orchid) - horse of my character Daffodil. I'm not a fan of Friesians, but how can anyone doubt how iconic this horses are?? I couldn't help but keep a few more. Maybe I should have bought another one... 120. Вороная Волшебница (Raven Sorceress) - Yennefer of Vengerberg from The Witcher. In the previous post I said I'd not buy a Friesian for her and here we are......

121. Twin Soul - one of my favorite games Beyond: Two Souls 122. Сосновая Петля (Pine Knot) - song by Харцизи - Шибеник, one of my favorite Ukrainian songs... tho lyrics are not the most optimistic one, music itself sounds happy. typical for us. 123. Web Fish - IF I GOT MISSING I WENT WEB FISHING love this game 124. Черная Гарпия (Black Harpy) - my mom chose and name that horsie 125. Live Stone - Лівінстон or THE Living Tombstone? Both incredible music creators 126. Big Time - BIG TIME RUSH YAAA (my 100th horse) 127. Cherry Blossom - I don't like Arabians, but this coat !!!! so cool

STABLE TOUR

95 horses !!!!

Start with my bay collection (from left to right) (some horses named in russian)

Doom - my only one Arabian horse because I lowkey hate them but I felt bad for not owning one when they were supposed to be removed

Dragon Fighter - my OC Neyvil'

Gilded Rose (Позолоченая Роза) - second horse what I ever bought but I sold it one day and bought it again cause of nostalgia

Uno - named after Muse song

Danger Desire - horse of my SSO OC's husband Howard

Morning Comet (Утренняя Комета) - starter horse I love him 💚 wish we had more Jorvikian Warmbloods to buy

Pale Road - horse of my RDO OC Wild Brown - Red Cardinal aka Cardi aka Baryonyx aka Boris aka Boryia - named after themed playlist on spotify

Boulder Gate - just Baldur's Gate.

Furious Whirlwind (Буйный Вихрь) - first ever pony. Same story as Gilded Rose

10. Lucky Chace - kinda regret him 11. Thunder Hurricane - first "cool" horse, oldie 12. Iron Man - my fav MCU character :) 13. Night Butterfly (Ночная Бабочка) - bad joke, OC Penelope

14. Druid Bear - Halsin from BG3 !!! felt bad for killing him once so this is an apology. sorry bud 15. Zombie Apocalypse - Deacon Saint-John - main char from game Days Gone

16. Lady Pearl - my OC lady Lidorfya Pearl. wish it was a donkey 17. Brave Guardian - my OC Connor Birdhard 18. Marzipan - cutie 19. Sunrise Faith - @sshadovv 🧡 20. Harsh Autumn (Суровая Осень) - I dreamed of her when I was a kid :""" 21. Sweet Victory (Сладкая Победа) - we all ask ourselves was it worth it 22. Violet Bullet - my OC Valliet Bandolero 23. Almond Cookie (Миндальная Печенька) - was eating cookies lol. didn't like this breed that much tho :( 24. Eternal Love (Вечная Любовь) - my OC Lira

25. Spring Song - love/hate with coat 26. Fiery Sunset (Пламенный Закат) - RIP my fishy Toussaint 27. Glitter Gold - @sshadovv's OC Judy (she didn't like my choice of horse but I still bought it sorry love) 28. Red Deer - ARTHUR MORGAN I miss you old man (main char from Red Dead Redemption 2) 29. Tiger Horse - my OC Jaira Tagger

30. Porcelain Bride (Фарфоровая Невеста) - dreamed of this coat 31. Ghost Queen - my OC Samara 32. White Swallow (Белая Ласточка) - Ciri from The Witcher 33. Yellow Snow - "When the time of the White Frost comes, do not eat the yellow snow" iukuk 34. Bold Horse - bold horse. 35. Pale Princess - a rat. I hate her. my OC princess Fyrze 36. Grim - my OC Gustav Grim

37. Songbird - album Death of a Songbird by Luna Fawn Ripley 38. Singing Fishy (Певучая Рыбка) - my second fish Lubystok (Dandelion from The Witcher) 39. Moon Wisdom - my OC Ezer 40. Wingfeather - novel The Wingfeather Saga, author Andrew Peterson. I love books for children, relatable 41. Old Myth - main char of my favorite series on SSO. The horse's name was Aiden and the whole story was based on the game Beyond Two Souls what I love with my whole heart too. I regret not buying more old models, especially Andalusians because it's one of my favorite breeds 42. Winter Warrior - my OC Irma

43. Golden Feather (Золотое Перо) - my OC Mechanics Emperor 44. Rebellious Spirit (Непокорный Дух) - Spirit!!!!!! Looks like my Spirit plushie 45. Wizard - my OC Guypril 46. Hero Magic - it's Guypril too.. 47. Coyote - my RDO horse Kharciz (I don't know if I spelled it right) (Харциз)

48. Desert Ninja - my OC Wild, specifically from Black Desert AU 49. Wild Hat (Дикая Шляпка) - another Wild, but from Red Dead AU 50. Wildlord - another Wild........ because his full name is Willord 51. Dark Silver (Темное Серебро) - my OC Vampyr 52. Phantom Liberty - cyberpunk is a peak 53. Pirate Blood - I will never buy normal full black Friesian because I am ✨special✨ 54. Dark Maniac - my OC Zwyr (Beast) 55. Ghost Mystery - horse of my OC Apparel' - Parquet. Also it was name of my first "soul" horse irl 56. Sugar Father - hate the name, was my OC Shuga but I sold him

57. Zombie Fairy - my OC Daffodil 58. Osprey - kinda fits to be my OC Zwyr but in reverse colors 59. Terrifying Hunter (Жуткий Охотник) - Geralt of Rivia (main char from The Witcher) 60. Silverhand - Johny Silverhand from Cyberpunk 2077 61. Wild - another Wild but bold sorry not sorry 62. Chaotic Soul (Хаотичный Дух) - hate this horses coat, but it was free so not complaining

63. Little Plum (Маленькая Сливка) - horse of my friend's (@sshadovv) OC Judy - Sguschenka (Condensed milk) 64. Jewel Seeker - my friend's (@sshadovv) OC Judy 65. Loveace - my OC Lovelace 66. Faith (Вера) - my OC Faithful 67. Giga King - my OC Nirehon, but name doesn't suit him anymore 68. Blind Eye - my OC Jack Brown 69. Broken Rebel - feel sad for his name but it sounds poetic.. 70. Crazy Brain - my OC Kris Cardi 71. Great Father - my OC Samson Douglas 72. Lost Star - song Take Me Home by Cade Crider

73. Heaven - just like the coat 74. Frost Shore - cute marks on head 75. Echo - reminds me of my horse from RDR Heparda 76. Silent Hill - my OC Ezer 77. Daydreamer - ME !!!! looks like my horse sona 78. Chocolate Milk - my horse from RDO Nesquik 79. Illusion Pumpkin - homestuck reference

80. Ballless - my OC Samson Douglas..... I'm so sorry man 81. Supernova Axiom (Суперновая Аксиома) - just a random name it sounds hilarious 82. Royal - my OC Royal. I know I am a genius 83. Shark Shy (Акулья Стесняшка) - my older sis give her name. Kinda reminds me of one of my fishes (Lubystok), but I bought this horse before I had her 84. Tiny Sparkle (Крошечная Искорка) - I remember how SSO gave us the opportunity to create our own magic horse. How happy I was as a child when the game showed exactly the same color as I made! Core memory

85. Scarlet Ode (Алая Ода) - bought it just because everyone ride it 86. Glory Power - like his pandorian vibe 87. Guiding Star (Путеводная Звезда) - RIP my fishy Toussaint again :( 88. Lovebird - I hated this horse but I became fond of them while I was doing quests in Hollow Woods 89. Tulip Petal - my OC Garreth

90. River Hoof - this is my favorite magic coat in the game 91. Willow Tree - song When I'm Gone by Shawn James. And this is my favorite tree 92. Gloom Wolf - same story short - hate it first but now seems cute after Hollow Woods 93. Obsidian Star - Yennefer of Vengerberg from The Witcher. Horse doesn't fit for 100% but I don't wanna buy Friesian for you darling 94. Raven Mane - such a common name for this horse :т 95. Butterfly Hurricane - my OC Huston and song Butterflies and Hurricanes by Muse - my favorite thing in the whole world

100th horse will be a Noriker, named after the band Big Time Rush - Rockstar. And tomorrow I will buy a robotic horse and call it Unicorn Attack

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[jumukus]

A3! Translation: Muku Sakisaka’s SSR [Mankai Birthday] - Prince Charming of August

translation under the cut.

Izumi: (Hmm mayonnaise, olive oil, veggies, white chocolate that Omi-kun asked for…)

(Okay, I got all of them! I should've checked what we have in the fridge sooner.)

(I have to hurry home and continue preparing for Muku-kun's birthday party tonight.)

Muku: Oh? Director-san?

Izumi: Oh, Muku-kun… What a coincidence. Wasn't today supposed to be school day?

Muku: Yep. I got too engrossed talking with my friend it's gotten late already.

Izumi: You're not with Yuki-kun today?

Muku: He said he had something to do so he went home first.

Izumi: Oh, okay. That's rare.

(I wonder if Yuki-kun is preparing something for Muku-kun's birthday party.)

Muku: Umm, Director-san, lemme carry your stuff!

Izumi: Huh?

Muku: It looks heavy. You must have bought a lot of things today.

Izumi: (Well, that's because this is all the stuff we need to celebrate your birthday.)

I appreciate your feelings, but this isn't as heavy as it looks.

Muku: Still, let me do it! Carrying a luggage is a man's duty. It has nothing to do with its weight.

Izumi: But you already carry a lot of stuff, Muku-kun. The paper bags in your hands seem much heavier than mine.

Muku: These are… the birthday presents I got from my schoolmates.

Izumi: Wow, aren't that nice!

Muku: Ehehe. They all are really kind and nice to a water flea like me.

Izumi: (Come to think of it, Muku-kun brought home a lot of chocolates on Valentine's Day.)

You sure are popular, Muku-kun…

Muku: W-What!? No, I'm not!

I'm far from being popular. Rather, I'd ended up getting taken in by crooked scouters' honeyed words when they told me I'd be popular.

I'm nothing but a seaweed that's buried behind the darkness of showbiz industry!

Izumi: For some reason your imagination is running wilder than usual today.

Muku: I'm, I'm sorry! I was just surprised when you said I'm popular.

Izumi: No need to be shy. You are loved by everyone, Muku-kun.

Muku: ...If that's so, it makes me so happy.

Izumi: By the way, what kind of presents did you get?

Muku: Umm…

--No. I know you're good at changing the subject, but I still won't let it slide!

Please let me carry your stuff!

Izumi: I've never intended to do that, though. But okay, I'll let you carry this veggies bag.

Muku: I'll make sure to carry this home!

Izumi: In that case, shall I bring your bags, Muku-kun?

Muku: You don't have to! Mine is not heavy at all.

Izumi: Oh, really?

Muku: Yep. It's just a mechanical pencil, clear folder, and a cute assortment of candies.

Izumi: Those are such pleasant presents. You can either use or eat them.

Muku: That's right.

But I also think it's such a waste to use or eat them.

Izumi: (Muku-kun is the type to treasure his presents. I wonder what kind of thing I should give to him.)

***

Izumi: We're back.

Whoa!?

Muku: W-what's that!? A handgun!? A pistol!? I've gotta protect Director-san!

No one is allowed to stand behind me or Director-san!

If you do, I'll open fire and this place will go boom! You all will be arrested!

Izumi: H-Hold on, Muku-kun--!?

Kazunari: Mukkun, you watch too much dramas!

Misumi: Triangle, triangle, bang bang bang!

Muku: Huh… g-guys?

Yuki: This is why I told you to quit it with the poppers and other classic stuff.

Tenma: Nobody assumed he'd be this surprised.

Izumi: So the voice just now was really party poppers.

Muku: S-Sorry! I mistook it for gunfire voice…

Yuki: People usually won't mistake it for such a thing.

Kazunari: Now, now. In any case, happy birthday, Mukkun!

Muku: Don't tell me this is the reason you popped the party poppers?

Kazunari: Of course! Before we celebrate your birthday with the others tonight, I figured Summer Troupe should surprise you first!

Misumi: Here's your present, Muku, a big triangular chocolate~!

Tenma: This is from me.

Muku: A mini bonsai?

Tenma: I didn't know today was your birthday. This is a makeshift goods.

Yuki: After getting all troubled over what to give for God knows how long, in the end you chose to go with bonsai…

Tenma: What did you say!?

Yuki: I've got a book cover for you; the size is just perfect for a shoujo manga. By the way, I've also embroidered your name on it.

Kazunari: Now it's time for the heavily favorite! My present is titled, "Mukkun's Fairytales Picture Book"! Yeaay☆

Izumi: Whoa, the cover is Muku-kun's portrait. Not to mention the art is done is shoujo manga-style and is high in quality!

Muku: ----.

Kazunari: Huh? Mukkun?

Yuki: He freezes.

Izumi: Good for you, Muku-kun. You got presents from everyone.

Muku: …*sobs*.

Kazunari: Whoa!?

Izumi: You're crying!?

Yuki: It's because of the bonsai…

Tenma: It's not my fault!

Misumi: Muku, do you want to use this triangular handkerchief? Are you crying because you're sad?

Muku: N-No… I'm crying because I'm so happy… I'm surprised.

Izumi: Oh my, so you're actually crying of joy. I'm glad.

Kazunari: Alright, let's do it again, then--.

Summer Troupe: Happy birthday!

Izumi: Happy birthday, Muku-kun!

Muku: Thank you so much, guys!

***

Izumi: (Hm? Muku-kun? What is he doing on the balcony?)

Muku: Oh, Director-san.

Izumi: The party was fun. You're not gonna go back to your room?

Muku: Yeah. I got too engrossed in this book once I started reading it.

Izumi: That's Kazunari-kun's present, isn't it? He said it's a picture book, but there's also a story in it?

Muku: Yes! It's amazing!

In this book that has me on the cover, I'm the prince!

Izumi: A prince?

Muku: Yep! I ride a white pegasus as I fly around the starry sky alongside my black cat partner--.

At the end of this adventure-filled story, I find a beautiful princess.

Izumi: Heh. It sure is interesting to read a royal story from the prince's point of view.

Muku: It looks like Kazu-kun worked hard both on the illustrations and binding the book all by himself.

And all of the Summer Troupe members apparently created the story while keeping my preferences in mind.

Izumi: Now that you mention it, flying around the starry sky with a pegasus and a black cat does sound like something that you like, Muku-kun.

Muku: Yes. I really like it…

Izumi: (A prince who rode a pegasus, huh…)

(--That's it!)

Say, Muku-kun, are you free this weekend?

Muku: I don't have any plans, but why..?

Izumi: Thank goodness! There's a place I wanna go with you!

Muku: …?

Muku: Wow…!

It has always been my dream to go to a ranch! Look at that, Director-san!

Izumi: They have a petting corner too here. Wanna go check them out?

Muku: Yes!

***

Muku: Whoa, whoa, whoa! They're approaching me all at once!

Izumi: (The animals are really gathering at Muku-kun's side.)

Muku: So cute. I haven't bought my food though, so wait a lil bit 'kay?

Izumi: I'll go buy it.

Muku: Is that really okay with you? I feel kind of bad to enjoy all this fluffiness first.

Izumi: But you can't go, right? See, the rabbit standing near your feet is looking at you as if it doesn't want you to go.

Muku: Now that you said it, it does look that way. S-So cute…

Izumi: I'm sure the animals know that you're a kind person, Muku-kun.

Muku: I'll be happy if that's true.

Hello, my name is Muku Sakisaka. Nice to meet you all.

***

Muku: Whoa… They are really cute.

Izumi: Even the caretaker was surprised too, huh. They said the animals usually are not that relaxed around people.

(Hmm. It should be around here…)

Muku: Director-san? What's wrong?

Izumi: Hmm, hang on--ah.

Muku: Ah?

--A, a white horse!?

Izumi: Pegasus is downright impossible, but a white horse isn't, right?

Muku: Don't tell me, this is why we're here?

Izumi: Yep. This is my present for you.

Muku: Director-san…! Thank you!

Izumi: (Looks like my surprise was a success! I'm glad!)

Muku: Whoa, I can see more things when I'm on top the horse.

Izumi: (The keeper said one usually need a good compatibility with the horse to be able to ride them without any problems, but Muku-kun has done it perfectly.)

Muku: Ahaha. You're a good kid, Vincent. Thanks for letting me ride you.

Izumi: (Looking at him like this, he looks quite great with the white horse.)

You're cool, Muku-kun!

Muku: C-Cool!? No, I'm not--ah, but Vincent is indeed really cool!

Izumi: (It looks so fun. ...Hm? He's coming here.)

Muku: Director-san… No.

I've come to pick you up, princess. Please give me your hand.

...Just kidding.

Izumi: Ahaha. In that case, will you let me ride with you… your highness?

Muku: --!

...Please hold onto my hand tight.

--heave-ho.

Izumi: Thanks.

Muku: …

...I wonder if I can be a fine prince in the future.

OPTION 1: I'm sure you can.

Izumi: You can. I'm sure.

Muku: I feel like I'll really be one if you say so, Director-san.

I know it's merely a flattery, of course! But I feel like I can make my dream come true…

OPTION 2: But you're already a prince now, aren't you?

Izumi: But you're already a prince now, aren't you?

Muku: T-Thank you…! You… You are such a beautiful princess too, Director-san.

Ah! I, I didn't mean anything weird with that!

Because you always do your best in both your job and the theater troupe, to me, you've always been a strong, sparkling princess!

Izumi: I'm fully aware that I'm far from the word princess, but… Thank you!

Muku: No, I should be the one thanking you!

Muku: Thank you for letting me have such a beautiful and fun birthday.

Izumi: Yep. Happy birthday, Muku-kun!

Muku: Thank you, Director-san. I'll continue to be in your care!

[katefiction]

Cora, Chapter 8: Princess in the Tower

by katefiction (Maria) / 2013

St. Michael’s Church, London

December 2165

Pine cones and orange is my favourite smell. The way it gets right up your nose as if forcing you to acknowledge that it’s Christmas time. I breathe it in fully, revelling in my favourite time of year.

‘Could this get any duller?’ Annie says, shifting uncomfortably in the pew.

‘Shh’

‘Seriously, there aren’t even any cute guys to look at’ she huffs.

‘It’s a charity carol concert Annie, not an opportunity to pick up men!’ I whisper.

‘You wouldn’t be saying that if you weren’t cozied up to Nicky’

I blush.

I had told Annie what Louisa had said, how she’d made me doubt Nicholas’ integrity.

Annie had told me straight, ‘it seems like you’re just looking for an excuse to break up with him’

‘That’s not true!’ I protested. ‘Why would she say it?’

‘Because she hates you?…’ Annie said unhelpfully.

I hadn’t asked Nicholas about it, I didn’t want to cause a rift between him and Jonathan. The more I thought about it, the more I began to think Annie was right. Nicholas was a good man who treated me well and cared about me. Why would I want to ruin that?

The choir arrives at the front of the large church, and the orchestra warms up, filling the huge space with music.

‘Do I have to sing?’ Annie mumbles under her breath.

‘Yes or at least pretend’ I laugh.

Nicholas and his family are on the other side of the aisle; he catches me laughing and flashes me a smile.

I smile back awkwardly.

We are asked to rise and all hold up our song sheets to sing O Little Town of Bethlehem.

I had gone for a black A-line dress tonight with netting underneath which I immediately regret as Annie starts to tease me.

‘That netting is invading my personal space’ she says as we get to the second verse.

“The hopes and fears of all the years Are met in thee tonight”

I giggle, ‘get on with the song!’

She is clearly bored, but as she is always in America for Christmas, I force her to spend time with me whenever she’s in the country.

She begins looking around the church, presumably for a guy to flirt with.

“We hear the Christmas angels The great glad tidings tell”

‘Um Cora’ she says, turning around.

‘What now?’

‘Ben’s here’

“O come to us, abide with us Our Lord Emmanuel”  

The carol comes to a rousing end and I spin around, hitting Annie with my skirt.

I see him immediately on one of the back pews. He is wearing a long dark coat with a scarf wrapped around his neck, which he’s pulling at. On his face is a one, or possibly two day layer of stubble.

I turn back around before he catches me staring as we launch into Away in a Manger.

Had he seen me?

‘Go talk to him’

‘No’

‘Don’t be so petulant!’

‘What is he even doing here?’ I say, more to myself.

The people on the front row turn and give us the evil eye.

‘Sorry’ I mouth.

Annie hushes her volume, ‘maybe he was feeling festive?’ she shrugs.

I give her the side eye, and as I do, find Nicholas looking directly at me. He gives me a curt nod and turns to look at Ben.

Crap.

*

We are given an interval to rest our voices. I try not to look over to Ben as I’m aware of Nicholas’ eyes fixed on me, but from the corner of my eye, I see him wonder to the back of the church by himself.

‘Hey you’ I say to Nick as I approach him. ‘Having a good time?’

‘Naturally, you?’

‘Yes yes’ I say, smoothing my dress down.

He pulls me to one side, away from Jonathan and Louisa, who are giving a bored Annie the schedule for their wedding.

‘If you want to go and talk to him, now’s the time’

I burn red, am I that obvious?

‘Don’t be silly…’

‘It’s fine…I’m fine with it, I trust you’. He says it so sweetly but for a moment I’m annoyed that he’s speaking to me like a child.

‘I’ll be five minutes, ten tops’ I say.

He nods and lets me hurry off to where I saw Ben heading, my heels clattering on the stone floor.

I find him in one of the alcoves with his back to the entrance, staring up at the carved wooden ceiling, presumably admiring the architecture. I watch him for a minute, not wanting to disturb his moment.

‘Are you going to say something?’ he says, his voice making me jump.

‘Oh…you knew I was there?’

‘I could hear your horse shoes coming a mile off’, he says, still with his back to me.

‘They’re not…’ I begin, but think better of it. ‘How are you?’

He turns around finally, his dark eyes fixing on me, ‘good, and you?’

‘Good good, happy birthday…for last month’ I say awkwardly.

He smirks at me, ‘happy birthday for last January’

I can’t help but roll my eyes at his nerdy joke. ‘So what brings you here?’

‘My cousin’s a member of the choir. And you?’

‘Nicholas’ family go every year, he invited me’

Ben stuffs his hands in his pocket defensively, ‘ah yes, good old Nicholas’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

The conversation turns unpleasant in a split second.

‘He swooped right in there didn’t he?’

My blood begins to boil. ‘I hardly call a year after we broke up “swooping”’

‘He was still there in the shadows waiting for his moment’

It’s only at this moment after all this time grieving, that I realise how angry I am at him.

‘Don’t be so ridiculous Ben’

‘Speaking of ridiculous, nice dress’. He reaches out and fluffs the netting up.

‘Stop trying to change the subject, it doesn’t work anymore’

‘Doesn’t it?’

I suddenly realise how close he’s standing to me. And the fact that no one else is around.

‘I don’t think you know how pissed off I am with you’

‘Why?!’ he says incredulously.

‘For not having the balls to stick around!’ I say too loudly. ‘I thought we had something…and you gave it up over a stupid tennis match that you didn’t even win’

He laughs as he backs away from me.

‘And why do you think I didn’t win Cora?!’

I’m too angry to take that as a compliment.

‘Well you got over it this year didn’t you?’

‘You can talk’

We stand there in silence, our chests heaving.

‘Does he make you happy?’

I don’t know what to say. He doesn’t make me unhappy.

‘He understands my life’

Ben moves closer again, ‘that’s not what I asked you’

‘He won’t walk out or get scared away…’

‘I didn’t get scared away, you pushed me out’

‘You called it off, not me!’

‘You will never admit you were in the wrong will you?’

‘Because I wasn’t’ I say stubbornly, trying to ignore his honey and wood scent that I love so much.

He sighs, as if defeated.

Fight for me. Please fight for me.

‘I hope he makes you happy Cora’

The music starts up again, telling us that we are to return to our seats.

He signals for me to walk out first, knowing that we can’t be seen together.

I do, and I don’t turn back.

 Christmas

‘A royal flush!’ Dad laughs as he pulls out the novelty toilet paper that I’ve bought him for Christmas. Each piece has his face printed on it. ‘Thank you darling…I think’

It had been tradition for years for our family to buy each other joke presents at Christmas. This year was no exception.

Dad always bought me some novelty Christmas-wear, and this year I was proudly sporting some cosy reindeer slippers.

The rest of the family buzz around the Christmas tree, exchanging comedy gifts and laughing with each other.

‘Any gifts from Nicholas?’ Dad asks, trying to be casual.

‘I told him not to bother’ I say quietly, trying not to catch the attention of the rest.

‘Well that’s a shame, perhaps he’ll have something for you anyway’ he looks around the room like he always does when he’s hiding something.

‘Like what?’

‘Oh I don’t know, a ring maybe?’

‘Daddy! Don’t be stupid!’ I shout, prompting strange looks from around the room.

‘Ignore her’ Dad says to everyone, and they dutifully get back to their business.

‘He is not going to give me a ring’ I whisper.

He was talking about marriage just last month.

‘Wouldn’t you like that? Surely every girl would like a big diamond given to them by a nice man’

‘First of all, I hate diamonds, and secondly, even if I did want that, I wouldn’t be telling my father!’

Dad laughs conspiratorially.

‘What? What’s so funny?’ I say, getting increasingly agitated.

‘Let’s just say me and Nicholas have had words’ he pushes on of the baubles on the tree, making in swing and shimmer in the light.

‘Daddy, please don’t say…has he asked you…for permission?’

Rather than beating fast, my heart feels like it’s slowing down. Dad’s expression turns to concern.

‘I thought that’s what you wanted?’ he says.

Sometimes he can be so naïve.

‘To get married one day…yes, but…’

‘Not to Nicholas?’

‘Dad, shh!’

‘Sorry’ he whispers. ‘I just can’t see why you wouldn’t want to marry him, he’s charming, kind, affable, and he’d be great with the public…’

‘Are you sure you don’t want to marry him?’ I say sarcastically.

He tuts at my joke.

‘I didn’t say I didn’t want to marry him, but don’t you think it’s too soon?’

For all my worries, I can’t see Nicholas proposing this soon. He’s far too sensible.

‘Perhaps. But your mother and I got engaged after nine months’

‘And look where that got you!’ I scoff.

‘We had many good years Cora’

‘But I don’t just want years, I want a good life, to grow old with someone who I can have fun with’

Dad leans in, ‘Don’t you think it’s time you let Benjamin go sweetheart?’

‘That’s not what I meant’ I say, my heart quickening.

‘I know you were crazy for him, but he’s not here, and Nicholas is. It’s not fair to keep comparing them’

‘I’m not’ I keep my eyes focussed on one of the baubles.

‘You will never be happy if you don’t accept it, trust me’

‘I have accepted it’ I lie.

I just miss him so much, I want to scream.

Dad puts one arm around me and I snuggle momentarily into his round chest.

‘I just want you to be happy’ he whispers.

‘So do I’ I say back.

*

The Boxing Day shoot was always my least favourite part of the festive season. I was no shooter, but Dad forced me to come along every year anyway to ‘spend time with the family’.

I’d much rather be spending time with a mince pie and a Christmas movie.

It is freezing on the Sandringham Estate, with the open spaces allowing the wind to bite nastily at my ears and fingertips. I stand with my gun hanging limply in my hand, watching as Dad expertly aims at his target. I’m so bored I could cry.

‘MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!’ comes a booming voice behind me.

I turn around to see Nicholas, Jonathan and their parents striding towards us, all clad in their finest shooting gear.

Nick beams at me as he approaches. God knows what my expression must look like.

‘What are you doing here?!’ I ask as we exchange kisses.

‘Your father thought you might like some company’ he says, giving a curt bow and handshake to Dad who is greeting everyone. ‘He called us last night’

‘That’s all a bit sudden’ I say nervously, recalling my conversation with Dad yesterday.

Nicholas rubs his hands together for warmth, ‘yes well, he wanted a chance to congratulate Jonathan and Louisa on the wedding, seeing as he can’t make it next week’

Of course he did.

‘That’s…nice’ I say.

‘Aren’t you happy to see me?’ he says with a smile.

I press my hand against his chest, ‘yes of course Nick’

It is the truth, Nicholas was great company and I was glad to see him.

My good mood is cut short in a second, when from the corner of my eye; I see a blonde ponytail swinging in the distance.

Louisa and her parents, the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire walk purposefully in our direction.

‘They’re here too?!’ I say, probably quite rudely.

‘Is that a problem?’ Nicholas looks a little annoyed.

‘No…it’s just, Dad rarely invites anyone to this shoot…’

Why on God’s earth would he invite Louisa?Was he trying to ruin my Christmas?

‘It is her wedding too’ he says sensibly. ‘And he’s known the Devonshires for years’

‘I suppose’

‘Right Cora, Nicholas’ Dad calls, ‘let’s not mess about, get involved’

Nicholas takes my hand in his and leads me to where the rest of the party are shooting. He curls his arms around me and helps me point my gun to the sky, ‘just like old times hey?’

I giggle because I don’t know what else to say. It did remind me of the day Nicholas had asked me out. When he was the only man in my life. When things were so much easier.

I wish I could get back to that.

I look over to Dad who looks very pleased that his plan to cheer me up has worked. He gives me a small wink. I wink back, if only to please him.

*

Later in the afternoon, I retreat to the small cabin on the grounds where eggnog and warm snacks have been laid out for us to enjoy.

I take a sip of the eggnog, closing my eyes and enjoying its warm silky texture on my throat.

‘Is there anything else to drink?’ comes her squeaky, grating voice.

I don’t even want to open my eyes. But I have to.

‘There’s mulled wine’ I point, not bothering to offer to pour it for her.

Louisa shrugs and heads for the wine.

As much as I want to walk out and ignore her, the princess in me (and my father’s voice in my head) stops me.

‘So, you must be getting excited for the wedding’ I say.

‘There’s still a lot to do, working out where all the members of Jonathan’s family are going to sleep for one’

I nod, pretending to be interested.

‘Still, you’ll learn all about that soon enough’ she smiles sarcastically.

Does she know Nicholas had asked Dad for permission?

‘Not for a long time yet’ I smile back.

‘Are you sure about that?’

‘Yes…why?’

She runs her perfectly manicured finger over the rim of her glass, ‘I just wouldn’t be surprised if Nicholas chose our wedding day to pop the question’

‘Oh grow up Louisa’ I say, beginning to lose my temper.

She doesn’t flinch, but stays frustratingly calm, the smile fixed to her face, ‘you don’t know him at all do you?’

‘What is your problem with us?! Do you fancy him or something?’ I know it is out of line, but I can’t help it.

‘Oh please’ she laughs. ‘Nicholas is a pale imitation of Jonathan and he knows it’

‘That’s ridiculous’

‘Why do you think he’s so competitive with him, he’s constantly trying to live up to his big brother’

I clutch my glass tightly.

‘Don’t talk about him like that’

‘And now he has to live up to your ex too’, she sticks her bottom lip out tauntingly.

‘You don’t know anything about us’

Louisa steps towards me, ‘I’ve known those boys for years, I know how they work’

‘If they’re so bad, why are you marrying Jonathan?’

‘I’m at his level, you are not. Nicholas will eat you up and spit you out’

As I’m about to respond, to tell her how much I trust Nicholas, he walks in, a look of suspicion on his face.

‘Everything ok ladies?’

‘Fine’ I say quickly. ‘I was just telling Louisa how much I’m looking forward to the wedding next week’

He puts an arm around my shoulder, ‘it’s going to be a great day’

A look passes between them, not of passion like I thought, but of warning.

‘It should be fun’ Louisa says, placing down her glass and moving towards the door.

‘I can’t wait’, I say grimacing at her.

She leaves the cabin, pulling the door shut behind her.

‘Are you sure everything is ok’, Nicholas asks as soon as she leaves.

‘Yes…she was talking crap, that’s all’

‘About?’

‘About you. About us’ I look at the floor, wishing I hadn’t just admitted that.

‘What did she say?’, his eyes darken.

‘Just that you aren’t who I think you are, that you’ll “eat me up and spit me out”’

‘You don’t believe her?’

I hesitate, ‘no of course not, but I do wonder why she has it in for you’

‘She’s never liked me…and she’s deathly jealous of you’, he bends to my level, ‘that’s all it is’

I can’t help myself, I have to ask him, ‘Nick…you’re not trying to live up to my ex are you? Because you know you don’t need to!’

He curls his lips, like he’s insulted, disgusted even. ‘No Cora, I’m not’

‘Oh, well good’ I say, slightly taken aback.

‘Anyway’ he says, softening, ‘I came in here to talk to you about an environmental project my father’s starting…’

Nicholas proceeds to tell me all about his father’s new project involving home grown food on British land.

‘…so I was thinking with your background managing the estates as well as other things, you’d get involved?’

I had hundreds of requests for my patronage a year, and even more now that I’m the Princess of Wales. I chose them all carefully and made sure I was passionate about each of them. I can’t say this one was getting the blood pumping.

‘I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to work together just yet’

‘Why not?’, he looks crestfallen.

‘Because people will accuse me of favouring your cause for other reasons’

‘That didn’t matter to you when you were working with Ben’s Trust’ he says resentfully.

I flinch. The truth was I never worked with Ben’s Trust. Ben told me all about it of course, but my involvement with the Trust was nothing more than an excuse when I had to explain to Nicholas why I was inviting him to the Highland Fling.

‘That was different’ I lie. ‘And I’m not working with them now’

‘Please just consider it, ok?’ he says stroking my arm.

‘I will’ I lie again.

‘We’ll be spending the rest of our lives working together, might as well start now’ he says, thoroughly ending the discussion.

I want to argue my point but I don’t have the energy.

Instead I follow him out of the cabin, thinking about the fact that he spoken about marriage twice now before he’s even said he loves me.

*

Dunrobin Castle, Scotland

New Year’s Eve

Louisa has gone all out with the decoration of the castle for her wedding. The bannisters on the staircases are wrapped in holly and twinkling lights. Swathes of red and gold fabric drape from the ceilings and a band plays festive music in the foyer.

I have to give it to her, it’s magical. And the same can be said for Louisa herself. For as much as I don’t want to admit it, she looks beautiful.

As she and Jonathan walk back up the aisle, I admire her gown. Made from the finest lace and skimming gently over her slim figure, it frames her shoulders to highlight her doll-like face. She looks like elegance personified.

Shame the personality doesn’t match.

Nicholas walks behind them as best man, with the maid of honour, the ‘chocolate and orange’ Louisa-clone, Martha.

He grins at me brightly, for once seeming happy to be in his brother’s shadow. I return the gesture, glad to see him so relaxed.

*

It feels like a long wait for the evening reception to start. I sit with Jenny and our friends in the parlour watching the sun set through the glass doors.

‘Your wedding will be so much better than this’ Jenny says conspiratorially.

I laugh at her sudden bluntness, ‘this is pretty good, you have to admit’

‘Yes but your reception will be in a palace, that trumps a castle every time’

‘Oh I don’t know, I love it at Balmoral’

‘You won’t be able to travel from London for the wedding all the way to Balmoral for the reception…’

‘Why are we even talking about this?!’ I say, realising how much I don’t want to talk about my imaginary wedding.

‘Come on Cora, everyone knows you and Nicholas will be next’.

Jenny had changed her mind once again when I told her I was with Nicholas. Apparently we are perfect for each other after all.

Before I can affectionately tell her to shut up, the wedding planner hushes the room to make an announcement.

‘All those asked to partake in the official photographs are to report to the main hall in twenty minutes’ she says sternly.

I give Jenny my most despairing look.

‘Off you go’ she teases.

As much as I’d protested and as much I knew Louisa probably had, Nicholas insisted that I be in some of the official photographs. I was his girlfriend and date after all.

I leave reluctantly, making my way up the grand staircase to the east tower, where a round dressing room had been allocated for me to and Nicholas to get ready in.

Turning the little brass key that I’d been given, I enter the room and reach for my comb and hairspray that I’d left on the dresser. I smile at the sight of the vintage lace and silk emerald green dress that my mother had leant me hanging on the mirror.

Beside the mirror is the only window in the room. From way up here in the tower, I feel like I can see the whole galaxy. It’s beautiful.

I slip out of my day dress and put the evening gown on, as per Louisa’s strict instructions. My hair is another matter. After being in an up do all day, it has begun to sag. I take the bobby pins out, deciding to attempt to re-do it.

Clutching twenty of them in my hand while attempting to reposition my hair, they tumble from my grasp, scattering all over the floor.

‘Oh crap’ I mumble to myself, kneeling on the floor to retrieve them. ‘Where’s Annie when you need her?’

Under the dresser, I spot Nicholas’ bag hidden in the shadows.

Maybe it’s what Louisa said, maybe it’s my own doubt, but my curiosity overcomes me.

I unzip the main section of the bag and see nothing but Nicholas’ clothes. Patting my hand on top of them, I suddenly feel something suspiciously cube-like in shape.

It can’t be.

I carefully take out his shirt and unwrap it.

There in the middle is a black box.

Shit.

I shouldn’t open it, just like I shouldn’t have opened the bag in the first place. But I do.

The diamond dazzles me. It’s huge, bigger than any ring I’ve ever seen. Bigger than Louisa’s. I pull it out of the box and place it against my ring finger. It engulfs my whole hand.

He can’t seriously be doing this tonight. On his brother’s wedding day.

My heart is racing with panic.

I’m pulled out of my shock by the sound of laughter down stairs. I look at my watch, my twenty minutes is almost up.

My hair still hangs down in loose curls. I have no time to fix it now. I put the ring exactly how I found it and hurry out of the room, locking the door behind me.

When I get to the hall, everyone is waiting.

‘Sorry’ I say to Nicholas as I find my place beside him.

‘What were you doing up there?’

‘Oh just sorting my hair out…but I still made it on time!’ I joke.

‘Everyone knows when Louisa says twenty minutes, she means fifteen’ he says irritably.

He must just be nervous.

‘Oh I’m sorry’

‘Shouldn’t your hair be in some sort of style?’ he says, eying my loose tresses.

‘Sorry, style expert’ I say, trying to lighten him up.

Our conversation is interrupted by the wedding planner and the photographer shepherding us all into place for a group shot. I watch as Nicholas wrings his hands together.

I can’t let him go through with this.

*

As the reception gets underway, I pull Nicholas to one side, ‘can we talk?’

We go outside onto the grounds, the same place that Ben and I went on the night of the Highland Fling.

‘What’s the matter’ he says, holding himself to keep warm.

I don’t know where to start.

‘Nick, I think I know what you’re going to do tonight, and I can’t let you do it…’ I begin.

‘What am I going to do’ he looks confused.

I take a deep breath, ‘I found the ring’

He stays still, the cold air not even leaving his mouth. ‘You went through my things?’

‘No…well yes, but I knew what you were planning’

I just didn’t want to believe it.

‘Well that’s the surprise ruined’ he says bluntly.

‘Nick, I wanted to tell you not to do it’

‘Don’t call me Nick’

‘What?’ I say startled by the change of subject.

‘Don’t call me Nick. I hate it’ he says, looking past me.

‘Since when?!’

‘Since always’

‘Why are you only telling me now?’

‘How do you tell the girl you’re chasing that you hate the nickname she’s given you?’

‘Oh’

I feel deflated and confused at his sudden change of character. When I stopped things between us at the Highland Fling, he was so gracious, but this time, it couldn’t be more different.

‘I just think it’s a bit soon to be thinking about marriage’ I continue where I left off.

‘But it will happen eventually, why not do it now?’

‘Because I don’t want to’ I say, getting frustrated.

‘You don’t want to do it now, or you don’t want to marry me at all?’

‘I-’

‘Because you know I’m right for this Cora. Your Dad loves me; I get the rules, the traditions…’

What about “I love you”?

Ben never said it either.

He carries on, not letting me speak, ‘Ben Evans isn’t going to understand your future like I do’

‘This isn’t about him!’

‘Really? You know he probably just used you to promote that Trust of his?’

‘I WAS NEVER WORKING FOR HIS TRUST!’ I yell.

Nicholas is taken aback, by me losing my temper or by what I’ve just told him, I don’t know.

Suddenly he is calm and collected again, ‘how about we go and enjoy the party and talk about it later?’

‘Fine’ I nod, ‘give me five minutes’

He heads inside, leaving me in the cold. I’m confused and frustrated. A whirl of information is spinning in my head.

Why did he take it so badly?

 Why does he keep bringing up that damn Trust?!

My mind hurtles back to the night of the Highland Fling:

“‘So how do you and Cora know each other?’, Nicholas asks.

I butt in before Ben can speak, ‘like I told you, we met at Wimbledon and I might be getting involved in Ben’s Trust’”

And then propels forward to the newspaper article that revealed mine and Ben’s relationship to the world:

“Sources reveal to us that the pair began dating last year after Cora began working with Evans’ charitable trust, the Marion and James Evans Tennis Trust.”

My breath catches in my throat. I’ve been so stupid.

I run back inside, my heels clattering on the floor. Nicholas is by the grand staircase still heading towards the hall for the reception, where the other two hundred guests are.

‘NICHOLAS!’ I shout, not caring who hears me.

He turns to me, ‘great, we can go in together…’

‘It was you wasn’t it?’ I say, panting from my sprint.

‘I’m sorry?’

I step closer to him, fury building, ‘you sold the story about Ben and I to the paper’

He laughs coldly, ‘don’t be silly, Cora, now come on, the party’s started’ . He grabs my arm but I snatch it away.

‘I was never working for Ben’s Trust, Nicholas’

‘This again?’

‘I told you I was going to work with Ben because I needed an excuse, you were the only person I told that to, and it just so happens that was how The Sun said we became close’

Nicholas stands there in silence.

‘I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid, I should’ve realised it was you’ I say shaking my head. ‘But how did you know we were even together?’

Finally his façade cracks, the charming man I thought I knew disappears, ‘you think I couldn’t see it at the Fling? You were all over each other’

‘But why would you want to ruin things for me?! If you hadn’t have sold that story, we would still be together!’

‘Don’t be so naïve! You and him were never going to work, I just quickened it up for you’

 I want to punch him, slap him, anything.

‘You don’t know that’

‘Don’t tell me that you broke up because your affair was revealed’ he says smugly.

He is right.

‘What did you do it for? Do you even like me or want to be with me?’

‘Life isn’t a fairy tale, we will work well together, I’ll be a great consort for you, and in time we’ll learn to love each other’

That’s why he didn’t want to get intimate with me. He doesn’t even like me.

‘You’re ridiculous’ I whisper.

‘Look, whatever you think of me now, you’ll see I’m right eventually. All the complications that come with your life don’t suit a relationship like yours and Ben’s. Just look at your father and mother, and all the other failed marriages in your family. If we were to marry me, you know we’d never divorce’

I believe him. We would have the perfect royal marriage. On the outside at least.

It’s not like I have a better offer.

‘Just think about it’ he says. ‘Come and find me later’

He wonders off to the reception like all he’s done wrong is left the lid off the toothpaste.

I can’t face all those people, so I head up the staircase to my dressing room in the tower. When I get up there, I slam the door shut and lock it.

I should be angrier, Nicholas has ruined everything. But in my heart, I know he didn’t. I ruined everything.

I close my eyes to think when there is a sudden tapping on the window. I ignore the noise and try to un-jumble my thoughts. The tapping continues, louder this time.

I walk towards the window hesitantly. It’s dark outside, but as I get closer I see something that makes me scream for my life. A man’s face is looking right at me.

I back away from the window, ready to run to my protection officers who are waiting in the hallway outside.

‘Your royal highness, are you ok?’ one of then says at the door.

But the man begins to shout through the window, ‘Cora! It’s ok, it’s me! It’s just me!’

I step forward, and he continues, ‘open the window!’. It’s only then that I recognise his dark eyes.

My heart leaps.

I pull the old iron window wide open, and Ben climbs inside.

‘What the hell are doing here?!’ I whisper and then shout through the door, ‘I’m fine, just a spider!’

‘Nice to see you too!’

‘Ben, are you crazy, how did you even get up here?’, I stick my head out of the window and look down at the dizzying drop below.

‘It’s was pretty easy, I climbed out of one of the lower floor windows and up the ledges on the outside’

‘You’re insane!’ I say despairingly.

‘I know’

I can’t quite take in that he is standing here in front of me, clad in his best dinner suit, that’s marked with dirt from the castle walls.

‘How…why…?’ I can’t even express all the questions I have.

‘Why don’t you sit down’ he says, and I comply as my legs are like jelly.

‘Your father called me this morning. He said that he thought that Nicholas might be proposing to you tonight’ he looks down at my hand to see if I’m wearing a ring. ‘He said that despite the fact that he likes Nicholas, he hasn’t seen you happy since we were together…’

I want to cry, I can’t believe Dad called him.

‘He thought that we should talk before you agreed to anything. So I got here as fast as I could. The security had no problem letting me in, Wimbledon champ and all that. I saw you heading this way, but there were too many people around to go knocking on all the doors, so I thought I’d just go from the outside and peep through the windows’

I’m too stunned even to call him a peeping Tom.

‘I should’ve known the princess would be in the highest bloody tower’

‘But why did you come at all? I thought you were over us’

He tuts, ‘because I love you’

He loves me. It sounds so beautiful coming off his tongue.

‘We’re not engaged’

‘I figured that much out’ he laughs.

‘Ben…he was the one who leaked the story about us’ I immediately regret telling him.

‘He did what?!’ he eyes widen in anger. ‘That fucking little toe rag! I told you he was no good! Where is he?…’ he pounces at the door, but I jump up and block his way.

‘Don’t be stupid!’

‘He can’t do this to you and get away with it!’

I’m suddenly furious. At Ben. At Nicholas. At myself.

‘I’m not a damsel in distress! You can’t just climb up a tower to come and save me!’

‘I’m not…’

‘You left!’ I realise I’m shouting, ‘You left me, you can’t just waltz in here and tell me you love me and expect me to fall into your arms. If you really loved me, why didn’t you tell me months ago, why did you let me believe it was over?’

Ben is shouting now too, ‘because you were with him! I wasn’t going to ruin things for you without knowing how you felt’

‘You must’ve known how much I love you!’ I push him backwards.

He stops for a moment. This wasn’t how I had imagined myself telling him that.

‘I hoped, I didn’t know’ he says.

‘Nicholas thinks I should marry him because we won’t have the complication of loving each other. He thinks it’d be a perfect royal marriage’

‘And what do you think?’

‘That he’s right, it would be easier’

‘Is that what you want?’ he steps towards me, ‘an easy life with no arguments, no one to tell you when you’re wrong, when you’re being an idiot?’

‘I-’

And then he’s kissing me, one hand is through my hair, the other is clutching at my skirt. We back up against the door, his lips are on my face and my neck.

‘God, I’ve missed you’ he mumbles.

 I grab his face and bring it back to mine, kissing him as deeply as I can, before pushing him off me.

‘I was scared of losing you’ I say suddenly. ‘That’s why I didn’t want anyone to know about us, I was never ashamed of you’

He stays quiet, letting me speak.

‘I saw my parents break up, and I’ve always thought it was the press that got in the way, I didn’t want that for us’

‘You couldn’t have hidden me away forever’

‘I know, but I thought the less people that knew, the better chance we’d have’

He runs his hand through my hair, ‘it doesn’t work like that, Cora’

‘I’m sorry…I was wrong’

‘I’m sorry too … and thank you for finally admitting to being wrong’ he can’t help but tease me, even now. ‘So what now?’

‘Now, I think I need to sort this all out myself’

In the process of falling in love, being heartbroken, then being with a man who never really wanted me to be myself, I’d lost who I was.

The old me would cringe at how weak I’ve been. I didn’t need any man to save me, not even Ben. I needed to act like the Queen I would one day become.

‘I just need some time, if you can be patient’

‘I’ve waited this long, I can wait a bit longer’. He kisses me on the cheek and goes to leave – through the door this time. ‘Oh, you look incredible by the way’

I blush despite myself, brushing down my dress and messed hair, ‘thank you’

Now alone again, I gather my belongings and text Jenny, and ask one of my protection officers to put everything in the car.

When I get to the entrance of the hall, the noise is overwhelming. Music is blaring and the guests are taking part in a Scottish jig. Apart from Nicholas, who is standing against the wall watching Jonathan with a disgusted look of envy on his face. I recall the conversation we’d had on our first date about how competitive the brothers were, and then conversations with Louisa, who kept hinting at something to me.

It’s only now that I realise why Nicholas had pursued me so hard. It wasn’t the money or the status he was after – he had both of those. His motivation was purely his life-long competition with his brother. After all, what could top marrying a duchess? Marrying a princess.

He catches my eye and I beckon him over to just outside the hall. I feel more in control and more calm than I have in months.

‘Have you had time to think?’ he says, a hint of desperation clear in his voice.

‘I’m afraid you won’t get the chance to upstage your brother tonight’ I say. ‘See, your offer was good, I’m not getting any younger and the chance to be guaranteed a life-long marriage is tempting…’

‘Great, maybe in a few mon-’

I put my hand up to stop him, ‘please don’t interrupt me. It is tempting, if the sight of my future husband didn’t make me want to vomit over his perfect suede shoes. I would rather spend the rest of my life alone than spend it with you’

I smile at him sweetly. Princesses don’t punch.

‘You will never speak to me or any of my family again, do you understand?’

He looks at me but doesn’t say a word.

I turn to leave, but turn back around for a moment ‘oh and Nick, maybe next time do some research before you buy the ring, because I fucking despise diamonds’

Maybe my language isn’t very princess-like, but it’s Cora through and through.

*

January 29th, 2166

I’m twenty-eight today. And I’m by myself.

Sitting in my apartment in Clarence House, I open the birthday cards given to me by my family and friends. I’d spent the past month alone, getting myself together, working hard, and trying not to call Ben.

I had told Dad and Mum everything that had happened. Dad suggested we lock Nicholas in the Tower of London and Mum proclaimed that she never did like him. We’d also sat together and talked for hours about their divorce. And about how to have a relationship in the spotlight.

They had both assured me that the good times were worth all the hassle that came afterwards. I was still scared, of course I was, but I realised taking a risk would be worth it. It was ok if it failed, I would be ok.

I prop up my cards on the side table next to the picture I have of King William and Queen Catherine. I put it up there to remind myself that they took a chance once too.

A knock comes at the door and I hurry over to open it, fixing my hair as I go.

‘Hello’ he says.

‘Hello’

I haven’t seen him in a month, but it feels like forever.

‘Happy birthday’ Ben says, clutching something rectangular in his arms.

‘You didn’t get me a present did you?’

He laughs that deep beautiful laugh, ‘no, not quite’

He places the packet down on the counter and unwraps it.

‘Lemon drizzle cake!’ I say happily.

‘I hope it doesn’t upset you, you know, being your tradition with your granddad and everything. I just thought you’d like to continue it…with me maybe’

‘I love it Ben’ I say, trying not to be a total idiot and start crying.

I go to kiss him on the cheek, but he turns his head purposefully and catches my lips with his. It’s like we haven’t been apart.

‘And I love you’ I add.

‘You’re alright too I suppose’ he says.

I slap him on the shoulder, ‘don’t be mean’

‘Ok ok, I love you, despite the fact that you drive me absolutely insane’

‘Good’

‘Good’ he mimics.

He cuts a slice of the cake and gives it to me, one slice of many more to come, I can only hope.

‘I’m sorry I don’t have an extravagant gift for you’ he says, stuffing the cake into his mouth.

‘I have everything I want’ I smile.

‘Look at you with the cheesy lines!’ he laughs.

‘Shut up!’ I say, burying my head in his shoulder.

He wraps his arm around my waist, keeping me there, ‘so you weren’t expecting a diamond?’, he raises his eyebrows tauntingly.

‘No I wasn’t, I would throw it back at you’, despite my attitude, I don’t move from his side, and he doesn’t let me.

‘Quite the model princesses aren’t you? Princess Cora, Rejecter of Diamonds, Potty Mouthed Queen of the People’

‘You better get used to it, princesses aren’t all what they’re cracked up to be’ I snigger.

‘Don’t I know it’

*

As it turns out, Ben never did give me a diamond ring.

Because on Boxing Day the following year, he gave me an emerald one.

[moon-ruled-rising]

as the rain hides the stars

read the full story on Ao3...

ii. it feels so good to be so young and have this fun and be successful

The alarm on the nightstand let out its shrill buzz, unbothered by the fact that it was silenced four times before and its patron hadn’t moved from their bed. A pale hand snuck out from the white duvet and slapped the button before pushing the covers away. The mass of white-blonde hair hidden underneath groaned.

She uncovered her body and put her feet on the floor. Shoving her hair out of her face, she winced at the sun beaming through the sheer curtains on the terrace doors.

After a quick shower, one that left her smelling like honey and lavender and much more alert, she was ready to face the world. She looked for her robe but only found a white button-up shirt draped over the bedpost. She ignored the cold tiled floor and moved straight for the walk-in closet. Her Braavosi apartment was much smaller than her apartments in the palace at King’s Landing, but it was a kind of small she appreciated.

Despite the mess in the other room, she kept her closet and all other areas in her life organized. A habit from princess training. She found her favorite pair of distressed jeans and pulled a pair of ankle boots from their resting spot on the shelf. 

“Dany?” a groggy voice called from the bedroom. 

“In here.” she rifled through a drawer to find a shirt she wanted to wear. 

“That shirt looks great on you.”

Her latest and longest conquest, Daario leaned against the doorway, his eyes raking over her with the same hunger as last night. She shrugged his shirt off her shoulders and tossed it at him so he had at least something covering him. 

She met the heir to the Tyroshi tech company in a dive bar last summer during her stay in Slaver’s Bay. They spent her semester break holed up in an expensive hotel in Tolos, spoiling each other with extravagant gifts and room service. Now they lived in the same apartment building. Considering that their fling was nearing a year old, it was time to cut him loose.

But every time she entertained the thought of ending their arrangement, it left her with a hollow heart. She decided she was having too much fun to quit and allowed herself to continue. Everything was perfect, there was no need to change.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Dany warned.

A roguish smirk grew across his handsome face, “Like what?”

She pulled the black crop tee over her head. 

“Last night was fantastic,” he complimented.

Last night. They had dinner at an upscale restaurant, then went dancing at the hottest, most elite club. Then they’d stumbled back to her apartment, unable to keep their hands off each other.

“Isn’t it always?” she brushed past him to get to the bathroom.

He chuckled and followed her, leaning against the doorway again as he watched her put makeup on with amused eyes.

“So it’s like that.”

She paused applying her face serum to look at him, “Like what?”

When he didn’t respond right away she returned to her routine.

“Dany,” he sighed, “We’ve been doing this for a year.”

“And it’s been great.”

“But don’t you think it’s time we made things official.”

She froze, mid mascara stroke, to consider his words. They had been together for a while and Dany had  finally graduated from University. Turning their regular meetups into something more serious was the obvious move. And Dany was scared of it.

“You know how I feel about that.”

“Yes, but we’ve already been together so long, what’s the harm? Aren’t you ready to take the next step?”

The next step involved him meeting her family and getting approval from Rhaegar for their relationship to continue under the public eye. Which meant Daario would have to come to Westeros with her. Which also meant more cameras and flashing lights and yelling reporters. They’d survived in Essos because there were fewer prying eyes, depending on where they were hiding out. But Westerosi gossipers would scrutinize their every move. To Dany, it wasn’t worth the hassle.

“I’m not.”

“Oh, come on.”

“It’s true.”

“What do you have to be so afraid of?”

“Daario, let’s say that we do want to continue this … whatever we have.” she went back to applying her mascara. “And we want to make it official. That would require a trip to Westeros, specifically King’s Landing. You’re used to the occasional paparazzi standing outside the building, but Westeros is ten times worse. Your picture will be plastered on every magazine cover from Dorne to Casterly Rock, they’ll rip you apart before you can get a word out of your mouth.”

“Dany…”

“Not to mention the fact that if we want to make this official, official, we’ll have to get a blessing from the crown. And while you do have money, you’re still Tyroshi. And since Rhaegar has to make decisions based on what’s best for his realm, and you already put a sour taste in the mouths of the citizens thanks to the tabloids, Rhaegar won’t hesitate to get rid of you.”

“Get rid of me? Dany, that's ridiculous.”

“It happened to the one before you and we didn’t even make it to Westeros.”

“You’re just being paranoid. My family has good diplomatic standing, your brother would be a fool to say no to us.”

She rubbed her lips together to properly smudge her lipstick.

“Make no mistake. My brother is many things but a fool is not one of them.”

She pecked Daario on the cheek before leaving the bedroom altogether.

“This is only the first time we’ve talked about it. Maybe breakfast would change your mind?”

“It’s nearly noon and buying me expensive food won’t change my mind. You’re not meeting my family. Good morning Jorah.”

Dany’s assigned guard was already sitting in the common room, reading the daily tabloids, his feet propped on the coffee table.

She subscribed to them purely out of spite. They were like the great Braavosi comedies of old, hilarious and bawdy. Especially with the rumors they liked to make up about the Westerosi royal in their midst.

“Good morning, Your Highness. Have any plans this morning?”

“I was supposed to meet with Missandei for brunch, but she caught an early flight home. Family emergency.”

Jorah hummed and turned the page. She saw a picture of her from last night. Daario’s arm around her shoulders and her lipstick smudged, party dress riding dangerous high on her thighs and the neckline-

“Oh dear. Rhaegar’s not going to like that,” Jorah commented.

The world stopped turning. The beautiful morning came to a screeching halt as she saw the inset and the headline. 

In all of her time studying the history of the Targaryen Royal Family she’d never read anywhere about a princess suffering a nip slip. Dany was rarely embarrassed about these things, she’d spent time with the Dothraki, but her face burned and she felt nauseous. It was different when her boob was actually plastered across newstands. 

Sure, she partied but she’d always been careful. She and Daario never walked home together from bars and Dany wasn’t hungover so she couldn’t have drunk enough to let the nipple escape her notice.

“Gods, I’m a dead woman.”

Daario came into the common room, fully dressed and saw Dany’s predicament.

“Nice,” he commented to the inset of her breast on the front page.

“No.” she slapped his shoulder. “Not nice. I’m screwed. Why didn’t you tell me my boob was out!”

“If I’m being honest, I don’t even remember how we got home.”

Dany sank into the couch and buried her head in her hands.

“The gossipers are already down there. A lot more than usual.”

“Your Highness, you told me to ‘fuck off and let you have fun’ so I did. Otherwise this could’ve been avoided.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled.

Daario chuckled and Dany cheeks took on a new kind of heat. Her racing heart and mind zeroing in on the one thing they could control. At least her boob would cover up the fact that she walked home with Daario. Gods, they’d been so careful not to let the world get a peak of them. 

“What do you want me to do?” Daario asked, placing his hands on her shoulders.

“I want you to go back to your own apartment.”

“What?”

“I need to figure this out and I need you to not be here while I do it.”

“Dany, baby, I can help.”

“No, you can’t. Jorah…”

She heard the magazine in Jorah’s hands rustle, but all she saw was the Myrish carpet and the way her toes kneaded the plush weave.

“No need. I’m already leaving.”

She heard his heavy footsteps and the door to her apartment slamming. Then the one across the hall. Dany hated that she made him mad, but there was nothing else she could do. She didn’t need his lewd comments when it felt like her world was falling apart. He would be back around later, when he cooled off. 

She wanted to scream. The urge built up in her throat and burned like authentic Dothraki liquor. 

“What in the seven hells am I going to do?”

“I’m not your PR consultant but I think you should go out to your brunch and show them that you’re still well-put together. Remind them that you’re a princess, and a dragon.”

The last thing she wanted to do was show her face. She wanted to crawl back into her bed, put the covers over her head and ignore the present situation. But she was a dragon. When Aegon the Conqueror lost a battle, he didn’t retreat to Dragonstone and sulk, he got back on his horse and found a way. She was the blood of the dragon, nothing phased her. 

“You’re right. I need to be a dragon. I’ll go out to brunch and then I’ll start with the damage control.”

“Maybe those should be the other way around,” Jorah suggested.

“I can eat and email at the same time. I’m a natural multi-tasker. What time do you think it is in King’s Landing?”

“Almost ten.”

Dany grabbed her purse and slipped on her boots. Leaving the apartment building was never a problem before but Sir Jorah had to stick closer than usual. She put on her sunglasses and smiled at the cameras, giving them a little wave. Their voices sounded like gibberish as she passed, the flashes only diffused by the early afternoon fog. Her favorite restaurant, The Foghouse, wasn’t too far from her apartment building.

Luckily, the restaurant was exclusive and as soon as Dany stepped through the doors she was ushered to her table on the patio that overlooked the harbor. Her usual sparkling water was waiting for her.

The waitress welcomed them in Braavosi and asked what they wanted to order. When Dany answered her with ‘the usual’, the waitress just stared at her. Dany gave her the famous, “Don’t ask me, just figure it out” look and she scurried off, fear in her eyes. She took a sip of her water in a small victory.

“Do you think it’s too early to start drinking?” Dany consulted Jorah as she looked over the wine menu.

Ser Jorah made a noise of distaste and she set the menu down. 

She pulled out her phone, hunting through her contacts list for the one woman who could save her hide. Galazza Galare. 

Although Galare was based out of Meereen, her career as a publicist reached further than Slaver’s Bay. She was behind the success of Dany’s last outreach trip to the area, making sure the right photos were published and bullying the publishers into only positive and glowing reviews. Of course, none of her services came free and Galazza never accepted cash if her customer had something better to offer. That was what got her a guest lecture at the University of Braavos, which gave her more interns and interest. She played the game better than Dany’s ancestors.

“Is Galazza there? It’s Daenerys,” Dany stated as soon as the dial tone ended.

The receptionist questioned her in bastard Valyrian, the growling tongue coarse against Dany’s ears. It took everything in her not to hang up.

“Targaryen. Tell her it’s an emergency and she’ll be well compensated,” 

The receptionist put her through. When the other line picked up, an electronic dance beat played beneath Galazza’s greeting.

“Dany, darling, you’ve got to tell me how you do it?”

Galazza’s accented voice was almost a comfort. If there was anyone who could take care of the problem it was her.

“Don’t get me started Galazza. I just want the picture taken down. And an apology from that tabloid if you can get it.”

Fingers tapping on keys accompanied the music, “A formal statement from the publication, I can do. Getting that picture taken down when it’s already on the internet and a majority of the world has seen it will be near impossible, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“What if we did a press release and overshadowed this,” she offered, considering what Daario mentioned earlier about making their “thing” official.

It was tempting to hide away in Essos. To settle down in one of the Free Cities and start on her career as a civil rights attorney, maybe with Daario by her side. Ignoring her family drama was the most enticing part of it.  But did she like Daario enough to take the next step? Sure, they'd been messing around for a while and money wouldn't be an issue but Dany couldn't help thinking that the only reason they were still together was that they were comfortable. Or was she too afraid to admit that she was willing to settle down? No, she was a woman who knew what she wanted, and right then she wanted the embarrassing photo of her down. The other issue could be resolved later.

“I don’t think there’s a way to overshadow this, it’s huge. We haven’t seen a Targaryen nude since … never. Well, there was that scandal with Deria Martell’s nude portraits from the 1800s, but she isn’t a real Targaryen and I think they proved it wasn’t really her in the painting.”

“I just don’t want to deal with Rhaegar.”

Rhaegar took after their father when it came to protecting their reputation. And Aerys wasn’t all that concerned with it either until Viserys. 

He was always causing trouble, Elia said it was because he was the middle child and was jealous of the attention Dany and Rhaegar received. Not to mention losing his mother at a very young age. Starting fights, shoplifting, partying, and bringing home unfavorable women. He lashed out at Dany whenever he saw her. Once he attacked her so viciously it left scars and Aerys had them separated. It wasn’t until the year before Dany finished secondary school that Viserys’ behavior became downright terrifying. 

He was out late drinking in one of the seedy bars in Flea Bottom and the combination of drugs and alcohol drove him mad. He evaded his security officer and stole a car, driving it off the cliffs at the edge of the city. King Aerys raised the banners, but his body was never found.

“I understand, darling, but it may be out of my control this time. I’ll call you back when I figure something out,” Galazza affirmed.

“Thank you so much. What do I owe you?”

“I’ll get back to you on that.”

Galazza hung up as Dany’s food arrived. Chopped eggs with fiery peppers, bacon, and a light gravy with orange slices on the side. Instead of digging in right away, she pushed it around her plate. Her appetite stolen by the events of the morning. Galazza’s answer wasn’t enough to settle Dany anxiousness and she kept glancing at her phone, waiting for the palace to call.

When she finally decided to eat a bite it tasted like cardboard. Not even the fiery peppers woke up her senses. She sighed at it instead.

“Dany…” Sir Jorah prompted.

He never called her Your Highness when he consoled her. He knew that she needed a friend. 

“Galazza said that it might be impossible to get the photos removed because they’ve been replicated and spread all over the internet,” she responded.

“I’m sure everything will be fine. Galazza works hard and you’re her best client. She’ll try everything she can.”

“But what if it’s not enough?”

“Then we hope Baelish can do damage control,” Jorah joked.

Dany ended up getting her eggs to go so she could mope in her apartment. She smiled at the paps as they passed, trying her best to act as though the world wasn’t crumbling around her. How many people had seen her tit today? How many times was the picture shared and reposted?

She changed into her comfy sweats and a baggy tee shirt, her favorite fuzzy socks on her feet. Dany balled up on the couch and stared at her phone on the coffee table, willing the screen to stay black.

Part of her wanted it to ring. Maybe she would get to talk to Elia instead of Rhaegar. Hearing her sister-in-law’s soothing Dornish voice would calm her and give her comfort.

Queen Rhaella died after giving birth to Dany, so Elia took it upon herself to fill the hole when she moved to court. Even though Elia was merely engaged to Rhaegar at the time. The two have been close ever since. Dany even stepped in on babysitter duty when Elia needed her to. Despite a whole army of nannies and governesses, Elia insisted on raising her children herself, even when her duties as Queen Matrimonial took precedence.

Dany couldn’t stand the waiting. Patience wasn’t one of her virtues. She busied herself in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes and rearranging everything. Ser Jorah came in to shoo her out because she was making too much noise. So she moved to the en suite bathroom and scrubbed down the tiles and organized her makeup. She made a point of watering the plants on the terrace even though they got plenty of water sitting outside. She also wanted to move the furniture around, but Ser Jorah stopped her from doing that too. 

She made them lunch. Dany wasn’t a great cook, she was decent from a certain point of view, but as long as the dish was simple she could do it. And when they were done, she cleaned the kitchen again. 

Instead of finding more useless tasks to busy herself with, she balled back up on the couch to stare at the phone screen again. 

When the phone began vibrating, Dany didn’t believe it. But it wasn’t Elia’s personal number, just the palace’s secure line. She slid her finger across the screen with hesitation and turned it on speaker.

“Hello?”

“Dany…”

It was Rheagar. His voice sounded disappointed. She toyed with a fuzz on her sweatpants, feeling oddly vulnerable. The last thing she wanted was Rhaegar’s disapproval.

“I’m glad you called,” she offered.

“I think we’ve both been dreading this conversation.”

Since this morning, she thought. 

“Dany, I think-”

“Rhaegar, I’m really sorry. I know I messed up, but I honestly didn’t know. I was too tipsy and should’ve left the back way but if I’m being honest I didn’t think there would be so many photographers.”

“Dany, I think it’s time you came home.”

“What?”

“Besides your behavior in Essos, Elia and I think it’s time you came home. Aegon and Rhaenys ask about you a lot. They miss you.”

“They do?”

She’d only been home for two days the last time. Hardly enough time for young children to enjoy their aunt. And they crowned Dany the fun aunt because she brought them candy and gifts from Essos.

“The annual charity gala is tomorrow and we want you there. I’ve arranged for a flight early tomorrow morning so you’ll be home in enough time. You’d better be on it.”

Dany didn’t respond. She didn’t know how. Something in her yearned for Westeros but another part of her dug its stubborn heels into the ground and refused. She didn’t belong in the spotlight. The events of last night proved that. 

That was why they wanted her home. So they could control her movements. 

Before Dany could come up with a wiseass remark, the line clicked. Rhaegar was gone. She had to pack, he wouldn’t appreciate it if she was late.

[acsmithwriting-blog]

“Anything New?” - A Short Story by A.C. Smith

Anything New?

Aquarius gave Pisces the news. With her hood up, she pounded on Pisces' door. "Hey!" She pounds harder. "Open up, little minnow!" Aquarius shouts up at her bedroom window, and Pisces, she finally wakes up and unlatches the door. "What?"

"Sagittarium is playing this Friday! At the Leo Plaza. You're going, right?" Pisces' eyes lit up and died the way an old light bulb blows when you throw the switch. She says to Aquarius, her voice low, she says, "You know I can't." "But it's Sagittarium!" "I know."

"Look," Aquarius says, pulling her hood up. "I've got a plan. You turned me on to listening to them, and I know how big a fan you are. We're sneaking you in." She smirks, hand on her hip.

"But how? There's no way I'll get in." Lifting her right arm, Pisces shows Aquarius her tattoo. The Pisces sign in black on the inside of her wrist. The stigma. "As I said, little minnow, I have a plan."

Pisces didn't like Aquarius' plans, but she meant well. And she was right. She had to see them live. Nine years back, before the updated restrictions were enforced, Pisces would wake up every morning, drink a glass of tap water, and make it to the record store five minutes before they opened. Pisces always wanted to be the first to listen to any new release. Any record. "Anything new" was her favorite type of music.

The manager with the keys every morning, A Leo, he was always excited to see Pisces there sitting at the front door. One morning when Pisces asked the manager, "Anything new?" What was new was Sagittarium's first album, "Circles." Pisces was the first person to buy it, back when they were allowed, and she instantly fell in love with their music. After the new enforcement codes went into effect, Pisces, she had to ask Aquarius to buy them for her.

The weekend comes up fast. Friday morning, Aquarius shows up with her boyfriend, Taurus. And his best friend, Leo. Aquarius was wearing a tight red dress with adjustable shoulder straps that pulled her cleavage up to her neck. Taurus and Leo, they had some hip new black pants adorned with chains and studs. Sagittarium T-shirts on. All of it underneath raggedy robes with large hoods. Aquarius bangs on Pisces' door again. "Open up, little minnow!" The door flies right open, Pisces shaking with her hands balled up in front of her chest. She asks, so what's the plan?

The boys, Leo and Taurus, they played chess in the front room while Aquarius painted Pisces' wrist. The brush, dipped in cream colored paint, sliding cold across her tattoo. It nearly matched her skin tone, but not enough. Blowing on it, Aquarius says not to worry. She brought her makeup bag, too. "We'll get in blended in right. And tonight, you'll be a Libra!"

Pisces half smiles. "Well, it looks great. But, um. What about my Sign Card?" Aquarius put Taurus to work two days back with some laminated cardstock. He's a graphic designer. Good with photoshop. At least enough to fool the security guards at the festival entrance. "Reach into my left pocket," says Aquarius, blowing on the painted skin.

Pisces digs for the card, and looking at it, she finally lets herself feel excited. She thinks maybe she'll get to see them after all. Aquarius, still blow drying the paint, breath after breath, she says, "I've already bought two tickets. So, it shouldn't be any trouble. Okay, I think it's dry." She blends it in with foundation to match Pisces' skin, and then draws the Libra sign tattoo in permanent marker. "Good enough! Just be mindful not to rub it." Aquarius smirks, proud of her ingenuity.

It's time to leave, and everyone throws their robes back on. Pisces leaves her legally assigned Sign Card under her pillow. "Libra." She says, holding it to her chest. The others exit first, and Pisces lifts up on her doorknob so it'll line up with the latch to lock.

After the four of them make it out of the Pisces district. After they get two whole blocks away, they check around them to make sure nobody will see, and they toss their robes aside. Pisces wears a two-piece outfit Aquarius brought for her. It's a bit too big, but Aquarius finds a few safety pins in her makeup bag, and they cinch it up to fit. It's a black tank top and skirt with a shimmering blue stripe running diagonally from shoulder to hip. Black stockings with the same royal blue hem run up to the middle of her ashen thighs.

"You. Look. Hot!" Aquarius squeals, and Pisces blushes.

Walking there, Pisces isn't used to being a Libra. So, Aquarius has to keep pulling her out of the shadows. Telling her, "Honey, you're fine. Libra, remember?" "Oh, right."

"And," Aquarius whispers into her hear. Her breath hot through Pisces' hair, she says, "Stop covering your wrist like that. People are going to think you're a Pisces. Act proud, girl!"

By the time they arrive at the Leo Plaza, Pisces feels confident about her "Libra walk." She tells herself, approaching the ticket gates that nobody will even know she's a Pisces.

Just act natural.

The guard checks her tattoo, then her card, and she hopes he didn't notice her hands trembling. Inside, the four of them scope out a spot to set up, but it's crowded. Leo, Aquarius' boyfriend, he says they'll go do some scouting. "Hold your chin up a little higher," Aquarius whispers, her teeth clenched together.  Pisces listens, and raises her chin. Telling herself, Tonight, I'm a Libra!

The right perimeter is the food side. Two-dozen food trucks selling the best from around the world. Overpriced, but you can't bring your own in. The left side has sideshows. Circus attractions. Games that scam you. Dartboards painted with big, fat minnows. The word Pisces painted into its sun-bleached pink scales with a million tiny holes from years of playing darts. Knock down the pins with the ball to win a purple moose. That kind of thing. Everywhere sat couples on blankets, some with flags proudly displaying the face of a lion. A scorpion of glowing stars. The Scorpios. Blankets with more space than people. The loners.

Flags with oversized crab claws pinching a lion and a fish in half. Mostly, these ones were Libra frat boys. The second best. Leos might be some high-hat cats, but Libras never get off their high horse. They check out a few of the games, and Aquarius gets a sniff of something and has to go find and eat whatever it is. "I'll catch back up with you!" She disappears into the crowd. At the first tent, the walls are lined with prizes. Stuffed animals ranging from small to large, bottom to top. Pisces noticed a small section to the left, one of the smallest prizes. A stuffed minnow. Cornflower blue with magenta fins. When she asks the staff how she can win a fish, he asks her, does she have a dog at home? "What" She asks. "Why?

"Nobody wants those, 'cept for as chew toys." He chuckles and fans his hand out. "All you gots to do is pop one of thems water balloons. Three darts. Five coins." The Carnie, Pisces sees his wrist when he drops the darts into the wood in front of her. An Aquarius.

"Okay," Pisces, who reminds herself that tonight, she's Libra, says, "here." And leaves five coins out. Half her money.

"One balloon! That's all for the fish." He steps out of the way.

On the dartboard, two balloons are painted to look like eyeballs. They're clipped up and hanging over the painted fish's face. Pisces throws the first dart. It's front heavy, making it nosedive early and land on the tip of the painting's fin. Before she can throw the second dart, a voice next to her, he says, "If you miss I'll pay for three more." On his wrist, the Capricorn symbol tattoo. Its sun-faded ink stretched and skewed from growing with age. He smiles at her.

"Thanks, but I'm not going to miss." Is that what a Libra would say? Pisces wonders. She looks forward and takes aim. The second dart lands just beneath one of the huge, bulging water balloon eyes. Capricorn gives the back and forth glance, and doesn't say anything.

The last dart lands, spilling water into the grass as the one eye deflates. The Aquarius Carnie hands Pisces the fish, and she shoves it into her purse to swoon over later. At Capricorn, she shrugs and explains that it's a chew toy. "Of course." He laughs. "Hey... You're a Libra, right?"

"Obviously!" Pisces scoffs, overtly looking at the paint on her wrist. "So, you think you could cut us in line for the Ferris wheel?"

Pisces had never been on one, and thought she would probably be afraid of heights. She didn't know for sure. "I can do that?" She asks, not thinking. "Please, you guys are basically Leos."

She tries again to play along. "Oh, stop it."

"A bashful Libra? Ha!" He grabs her hand and says he'll buy her a snow-cone first. They cut in line with the card Aquarius' boyfriend made up. The home-laminated Libra Sign card, printed with middle-class black ink got them to the front of the line, but the rules clearly stated: No snow cones allowed.

Pisces got a lemon brain freeze and tossed what was left into the waste bin. They stepped into their two-person gondola, and Capricorn said, "Don't worry. It only takes a couple of minutes to go around. We'll be out before the band's on." The door clicked shut behind them. They started moving. The sun had just set, but the Ferris wheel lifted them high enough to see it set again. They only just met, and Pisces thinks it might be the sugar high, but her heart flutters when he grabs onto her hand. His palm wet against hers after a hot day. The extra light from the sunset nobody but them can see, it isn't helping. Pisces is sweating through the paint on her wrist. She notices it starting to crack through, and keeps it tilted so Capricorn won't see.

When he asks her what kind of dog she has, Pisces thinks, What kind of dog would a Libra have? An Australian Shepard, she tells him. How many siblings does a Libra have? What is a Libra's favorite sport? He asks, were her parents Libras, too? What is a Libra's favorite flower? Food? Phone number? The wheel begins moving, or the sun goes down again. What did a Libra drive here? Pisces, she's trying to keep up. Act natural. What does a Libra listen to? She answers honestly, for once. "Anything new, I guess. I like Sagittarium." "Well, then you're in the right place."

That's the last thing he said to her before his double-take at her wrist. "Is that... Paint?" Pisces had gotten distracted by his questions. She wasn't mindful enough to hide it, but she tries lying. Lies are not a strong-suit for Pisces.

"Let me see that!" Capricorn grabs her by the elbow, jerking Pisces toward him. She pulls back, but it's too late. His grip is strong, and he's thumbing at it. Scraping it away, smudging his thumb with the fake skin. Latex, dyes, and makeup powder smeared into a ripple. Wiped clean off from the layer of building sweat beneath it. From the heat, and the worry. Her tattoo shows.

Pisces.

The gondola's door opens to the line of people they cut in front of. Capricorn's jaw buried in his shirt collar, he yells, "Pisces!" pointing at her. The crowd outside murmurs. They're not even allowed in. Capricorn steps out holding his hands halfway up. He disappears into the crowd saying he's got to wash them, and the people turn their heads back. Looking at Pisces.

She tries to bide her time and escape the corner she's in, lying like a Libra. "Oh please, that Aquarius." Flicking her wrist. A dismissal. "He's such a prankster." Tattoo hand on her purse, she shows everyone her fake Libra card with the other. Pisces puts on her best poker face, making her way outside just before someone finally shouts, "Show us your arm!"

Pisces turns to run, but a large Taurus man grabs onto her. He pulls her wrist out and lifts it up for all to see. "A Fish!" He shouts, tossing her forward. She catches herself, but already people are pulling little white cylinders from their bags. Their back pockets. Pisces turns to run, going face first into a few people. They pop the caps off their little bottles. The tops punched with various sizes of holes. They shake out fish food. The flake kind. Green and orange transparent because it's so thin. The air stinks like stale sea brine from a thousand tiny flakes snowing down over Pisces.

They chant, "Fish bitch! Fish bitch! Fish bitch!" Pumping one fist, shaking fish food down with the other. Pisces eyes wet up with tears, and the flakes pick it up, soaking onto her skin. Like flecks of glitter surround her eyes, but they're too large, and they don't shine. They just stink.

She gets up and starts to run. Her only sense of direction is away from the music, because that's the way to the door. The people, most of them have a second bottle. Inside, a reel of fishing line with a hook at the end. It's got lead weights attached for easier throwing. With tears and fish food swelling up, blurring her vision, Pisces makes the longest bounds her short legs allow her to. Behind her, spinning hands build momentum for the hooks. They let go and send them flying. Chasing after Pisces. Most of them miss. One, a triple-sided hook, snags onto her leg beneath the skirt. She pulls it forward, taking another step, and it rips backward, taking a chunk of skin with it. Behind her, someone yells "Ooooohhweee! I almost had her!"

Others, still chanting "Fish bitch!"

Others, throwing hooks on lines as Pisces runs away. Hooks shoot past her. They grab into her hair. Cut into her tank top. Dig into her shoulders. Her back. Both sides of her legs and arms bloodied and pouring red.

The next thing she sees is an arm fly up. The next thing she feels is like a wall in her face. And it's black.

When she wakes up, it's black out. Pisces tastes iron in her mouth. When she tongues at it, there's a raw spot where her canine tooth used to be. Her eyes feel swollen. From being hit, or maybe an allergy to the food flakes, she didn't know. Every inch of skin stung when she pushed herself up, away from the earth. Next to her, her purse. With both hands she dove into it. Her crimson stains from hook wounds forever tear-dropped into the thin polyester fish design.

Pisces knew she had better not get caught being outside after curfew. Especially without her Sign Card. Above her in the sky, the Leo constellation. The lion's tail pointed the way home. It was a long walk, but nothing is quite as bad when you've got a plush animal to hug onto.

End-

[ill-skillsgard]

Patterns in the Ivy, Part 8 - Bill Skarsgård

Title: Patterns in the Ivy

Description: A continuation of Smoke & Money. Ghosts from the not-so-distant past come back to threaten her. She must choose between a lavish life of servitude or have everything she ever loved stripped away.

Warning: 18+ smut/swearing/mentions of drugs/kink & fetish themes

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

It didn't take long to the transition from our tiny little home out East to Bill's estate, in fact, it felt strangely seamless, especially for Ivany. Not only that but Bill was good at painting himself as a picture of the perfect father and lover. It was like he was born to raise Ivany and I had but to stand back to appreciate how beautifully and completely they fell in love with each other. He fulfilled every little promise he made to her and she, in turn, became more of a delight to be around than she already was. The both of them together was enough to reduce me to tears on some days. The way he looked at her was pure and unwavering, a savior dressed in Gucci who had come to enrich our lives with his love and money. He started by buying her a horse- a white mare named Winterwind, just like what she had asked for, with black marbles for eyes, soft silvery hair and a very calm demeanor according to what the breeder told us. Winterwind was a perfect match for Ivany even though she was still too small to ride by herself. Bill made sure to hire the best hostler to care for her and a riding instructor that came every Wednesday to teach Ivany. It didn't stop there. Bill had her room completely remodeled to suit her. She chose a pastel purple colour scheme, matching drapes to hang from the massive windows and violet carpeting. The walk in closet was gutted and restructured so Ivany could reach all of her new clothes and shoes. Her en-suite bathroom was redone in powder pink with a lowered sink and a massive scallop shell mirror with a real abalone border framing it. Every little inch and detail was tailored to her. Bill even had a dollhouse made for her that took up six square feet that she could practically stand in. We chose paintings of unicorns and mermaids to hang up on the walls. It was a royal underwater room for his little princess complete with a coral light fixture, bubbles painted on the ceiling and swaths of turquoise tulle wrapped around the posters of her bed.   When I first saw it I was speechless. He really went all out, sparing no expense so that by the time he brought her to the entrance with his hands over her eyes, she was giddy with excitement, jumping up and down and when he took his hands away she screamed at the top of her lungs. He stood at the door and watched her bounce around the room, talking at us and looking at everything with the most genuine sense of joy that I had ever seen. Ivany had to touch everything but nothing held her attention as long as the dollhouse did. She clung to his leg and told him just how much she loved everything and he replied with, "I love you, princess. I hope you like it." When he noticed I hadn't said anything and had been standing by with my hand over my mouth he took me by the wrist and shook me out of my trance. "What do you think?" He asked. I fluttered my eyes in disbelief. "What do I think? I think it's insane. It's amazing!" Pulling me close to him, he wrapped his arm around my hips and pressed a kiss behind my ear, nuzzling his nose into my hair, inhaling and sighing softly. He had an easy look of satisfaction on his face accompanied by a smirk. When he had ripped my attention away for a moment he kissed me as if to say I told you so. It wasn't only Ivany who received the rewards of his attentions either. He had made sure that I was well taken care of, which in his eyes, meant that I needed a completely new wardrobe and a massive vanity table to house all of my make up and expensive perfume. It was a vast white table with an arcing mirror, gold-brushed handles adorning each drawer and a matching bench for me to sit on in my sheer dressing gown while I got ready. Bill had taken a liking to watching me sit at that vanity table. If I was in my room getting ready or fresh from the shower he would stand at the doorway sometimes with his arms crossed and watch me as I massaged lotion into my skin or applied lipstick in the mirror. Even when he wasn't home to see me I liked to put on the fine undergarments he had chosen and sit on the bench, pretending like he was watching me drip honey and rose eau de toilette on my wrists. The Summer came in full bloom and we spent most mornings together on the red jarrahwood veranda. Beyond the platform that we lounged on eating our breakfast, the grass sprawled for acres to accompany the stable and a fenced in plot for horses to run in. Further than that, there were trees and a guest house that was bigger than any house I had ever lived in. It was surreal sitting out in the sun with my sunglasses on, looking out onto all of Bill's property, his car garage, pool and cabana and unused tennis court. It was really all too much to take in sometimes. One early evening, Ivany's riding instructor came and took her to the stable to spend time with Winterwind and Bill and I stood at the fence watching them. He was wearing a light leather jacket over a light blue button up shirt and dark washed jeans that ended just above a pair of black boots. I looked at him and thought to myself that I had hardly ever seen him wear something so casual. I wanted to view him as a regular person but it was hard when he was always decked in his suits with his hair perfectly styled in that I-didn't-try-to-look-like-this way. When I watched him watching her, I got up the courage to strike a conversation with him. We had been living with Bill for nearly a month at that time and him and I had hardly spent any time talking. Bill did leave almost every day for work and when he returned in the evening we had enough time to spend with Ivany before her bedtime and almost as soon as she was down, he wanted me. After he was sure Ivany had fallen asleep, Bill would light a cigarette, smoke it to the filter and once that was done he would have a drink. It was almost like a ritual and as soon as the last drop hit his tongue, he would be ready for me. His sexual appetite was  insatiable and every night I found myself in the master bedroom with no opportunity to speak much besides to answer all of his filthy little questions. "How was work today?" I asked him. He gave me a side-swiping look as though I had just pinched him. I had never bothered probing him for answers much but I felt like our new life together warranted at least a little bit of information from time to time. After all, he was my partner and the father of my child. It wasn't a sense of entitlement, more an urge to know what was going on inside of his head since he only liked to divulge things that he deemed necessary and what fell underneath that definition to him was still unknown to me. "It was fine." He replied. "What did you do today?" "Meetings." I caught the sense that he was getting uncomfortable answering my questions and it didn't settle quite right with me. I wanted to know why he had such a problem with me knowing anything about him besides what he liked to eat, what he wore and what made him hard. "Is that all you do is have meetings?" "Yes." I sighed and turned to lean my back up against the wood fence. He eyed me again but didn't turn his face away from Ivany and Winterwind. "Are you ever going to talk to me about anything?" "We're talking right now, aren't we?" I knew if I tread too hard on him it would make him upset. I had to choose my questions wisely to avoid tipping his scale. It seemed almost anything could set him off into a bad mood and then I would receive the ass end of it in the bedroom. It was just another thing about him that was unsettling. He had to use sex to express himself and sometimes it left me with colourful reminders that I wished he could just form into words instead. Not that I didn't enjoy his punishments, it was only that his being secretive was quickly growing old. "Look, I know you like your privacy but... We live together. I'm not going to pretend I'm not curious about what goes on in your life. We live in our own small country practically and people come and go to make our food and clean the house. You do realize how foreign this all is to me, right?" "I don't blame you for having questions but I've already told you. I own hotels and make shit-loads of money because of it. I sign papers and go to meetings and then I come home and all I want is to spend time with you and her. There's nothing glamorous about my job. The most exciting parts of my days are getting to see her." His dismissive tone was heavy enough for me to understand that if I pried anymore he wouldn't be happy about it. I offered nothing back but my silence punctuated with a sigh here and there. Ivany came around seated on Winterwind, her instructor reigning her up so they could stop near us. Bill's demeanor changed immediately as he waved to Ivany. "Hi, Daddy!" She cried out, cheeks pink with excitement. "Hello princess! Have you had enough riding for one day?" He called out to her. "Nope!" The riding instructor was a stoic woman with braided brown hair who seemed to only have a soft bone in her body for horses and for Ivany. She hardly ever addressed me and made minimal exchange with Bill but I did see her talking quietly to Ivany any time they had their lessons. The woman seemed dedicated, proud and maybe a tiny percent resentful of us as parents for having purchased such an extravagant animal for a four-year-old child. Nevertheless, she came and went each Wednesday with hardly a complaint. That night after Ivany went to sleep, Bill didn't bother with his usual routine. He did smoke a cigarette and had a drink but instead of dressing the night all up like he normally did, he simply encircled me in his arms and asked me to come to bed with him even though it was only just passed eight o'clock. There seemed to be something floating around inside his head that was bothering him so I didn't press anything further, I just got into bed with him after getting undressed and let him do what he wanted. He trailed his fingers up and down my spine as we laid under the duvet, skin touching and limbs entangled. He kissed me slowly, scooping up a handful of my left breast and kneading it in his palm. When he was satisfied with that he rolled me over so I was facing away from him but pulled me in close to his chest, letting his hand fall down my thigh to my knee. He raised my leg up and that was when he pressed his hardness up against my ass. He let out the slightest of whimpers as he entered me from behind and I replied with a quiet moan. It was all so very drawn out and sweet and when he started rocking his hips into mine to get in deeper, his body relaxed into the motion. "Oh..." He groaned. "I love you." His arms wrapped around me and his lips kissed up and down the curve of my neck and my shoulder. I writhed back onto him, enjoying the feeling of how slowly he pushed in and out of me and the softness in his voice. "I love you, baby." He whispered again. "Do you love me?" "Yes. Yes, I love you." "How much?" He asked as he tantalizingly pulled his cock out of me. His hand reached down to angle himself back up against my opening, awaiting my answer before making any other movement. "I... I adore you. I love you more than anything. Oh-" He plunged back in as I told him that and purred against the back of my neck. "I love you. I love your pussy. I love how you get so wet for me. I love putting my cock in you every single night." "Yeah?" "Yeah... You know what else I love?" He asked. "What?" He reached under my raised leg and circled my clit with the pads of two fingers. I moaned under the sensation and when he kept going I felt my body coming alive. He licked and nibbled on my neck, moaning as well. "I love making you come." "I love making you come, Daddy." The pattern of him massaging me, penetrating me, kissing me and whispering in my ear was a quickfire way to get me to the edge. He knew it, too. There was no speed to be picked up, only the deliberately slow actions that looked a little more like love-making rather than our usual rigorous fuck sessions. It was a nice change of pace and I felt my hairs stand up on end as he breathed close to my ear, low panting only interrupted by his mouthwatering praises. Sometimes, Bill just worshiped my pussy instead of using it and those were the nights I fell deeper and deeper in love with him. Those were the nights I told myself that I didn't care he was so furtive and withdrawn. He was my King and if I could have him all to myself for the rest of time I knew I could die happy. "Come with me, baby. I want to feel that pussy tighten around me." I hooked my leg over his to pull him in a little harder and he took that as a sign to haul me on top of him completely so that he could use both of his legs to buck up into me while his fingers continued toying with my clit. I laid on top him, my back to his chest, knees bent, spread and eyes closed, zeroing in on the pleasure he bestowed with his long fingers. The added penetration mixed so well that I knew it was entirely possible he would have me coming in seconds as long as he kept doing exactly that. "Come for me. Come for me. Come all over your Daddy's cock. I want you to." "Mm, yes, Daddy. Yes-" "Come. Right now. Come for me." I didn't know whether his power over me should have been frightening or not. When I finally tensed up to orgasm, Bill pounded into me until he started to lock up as well. Our tandem climax hit hard and as much as I moaned over feeling him pump me full of cum, he moaned even harder, luxuriating in another beautifully orchestrated mess that would dry up by morning. That's what life was like with Bill. He would wake up before me to have a shower and get dressed then come back into the room to wake me up so I could have a shower as well. While I was getting cleaned up from the nights we spent making each other come, he would wake Ivany and get her ready for the day as well. We would convene on the main floor and eat breakfast together and he would kiss us both goodbye before leaving for work in his ebony Lincoln or his gunmetal BMW or his jet black Mercedes. When it was just Ivany and I, we spent the hours doing whatever she wanted which usually meant going outside to see Winterwind, playing hide and seek on the grounds or dressing up and having royal tea parties in her bedroom. A team of maids came every day to spruce up the house, though most of the rooms were completely unused. They didn't speak much English and I hardly ever crossed paths with them as Ivany and I were usually enjoying the Summer weather or in town having lunch and shopping around. By the time we went back inside they were usually gone or just finishing up. There were about five of them, sometimes six and three handled the kitchen and dining room and the others went upstairs to change bed sheets, vacuum carpets, clean bathrooms and windows and dust any surface within reach. One day, Ivany didn't feel well and asked if she could just stay in her room with an iPad, some blankets and her favourite dolls. I felt so sorry for her after she threw up her breakfast that I arranged her comfortably in her bed, set up a movie on the tablet and tucked her bunny rabbit in beside her. She asked for me to stay and watch the movie with her and I did gladly, until we both dozed off. I caught myself flitting in and out of sleep before long and shook my head to keep myself from drifting off entirely. Ivany was passed out, mouth open, the movie only half way through so I turned it off and quietly left the room so she could get some rest. I found myself unbelievably bored soon after shutting Ivany's bedroom door. The din of the house was strong and it was the first time that I had found myself wandering around by myself. I was drawn in further after the maids had come and gone. I had seen the inside of Bill's master bedroom enough to know that he had a massive walk-in closet and an en-suite bathroom bigger than most people's apartments. It was no adventure exploring his room because I had spent most of my time in it anyway, but once I started further down the hall, my curiosity was purchased. There were so many doors that I had never opened before. One by one I tried the handles, finding that most of them were locked. The rooms that were unlocked were only bedrooms, staged very similarly to the ones that Bill had given to me and Ivany but not so luxurious. I mean, they were still beyond lavish but by the standards I was used to seeing in Bill's estates, they weren't as extravagant. I counted about five other bedrooms on that floor and the further into the East Wing I went the emptier the rooms got. The few doors that I could not get into were smaller doors. I noticed they had less of an antiquated look to them and appeared to have been updated and fitted with brass knobs that unlocked with a key. The wood, I remarked, wasn't as heavy as any of the other doors either which only confirmed my suspicion that they were much newer. Once I was satisfied with what I was able to see upstairs I made my way to the main floor, into the foyer that split off three ways; the staircase going upstairs, the passage way to the dining room, kitchen and back doors and then there was a pair of doors that opened up into what appeared to be a library by first glance. There was a grand fire place with a marble mantle surrounded by legions of shelves stuffed tight with all manner of books old and new. In the center of the room there was a hand-carved pool table with sapphire blue baize and four lions each representing a leg of the table. The wood had been polished and lacquered so finely I could see my own reflection in it. I couldn't help but wonder what Bill did in his spare time, what he did to fill his nights before Ivany and I came to stay with him. As I circled the pool table I envisioned him leaning over it, pool cue almost as long as he was in his hands, poised to snipe a billiard ball into one of the suede pockets. Did he like to read the books, or were they only for show? I approached the fireplace and stared into it to see if I could tell when it was used last but it was as clean as anything else in the house. There were plenty of books to choose from so I ascended the sliding ladder to pick one that caught my interest. With nothing much else for me to do and the realization that I could feel bored in such a place, I began to feel disheartened. I had nobody to talk to and nowhere to go, so I settled for reading out on the veranda in the bright sunshine. It had been far too long since I had picked up a book. Bill came home a couple hours earlier than he normally did and brought with him a stack of papers. When he found me I had just settled back into a lounge chair on the deck after having checked on Ivany to see if she needed anything. He cast his glance around, trying to locate his daughter before he realized she wasn't with me. "Where is Ivany?" He asked. "She's in her room. She hasn't been feeling well at all today." Bill's eyes only widened a little bit but I could still see the concern filtering through. "Oh... Is she alright?" "She will be. She has a bit of a fever and upset stomach." "Does she need a doctor?" "No. She's going to be fine." "Are you sure?" I cocked my head at him and tried not to downplay his paternal instincts but I did find it cute that he had never dealt with a sick child before. With a slight grin I replied, "Bill... She's going to be alright. Kids get sick sometimes. Why don't you go check on her? I'm sure seeing you will make her feel a lot better." He glanced down at the papers he had in his hand. "I will, but first I need you to sign some things." There were small red tabs stuck to some of the sheets to indicate which lines I was to sign my name on but when I looked up at Bill he knew that I wouldn't blindly sign anything without an explanation first. "These are for Ivany's name change. You can look over them if you want to." Bill handed the stack to me and pulled a gold-plated pen out from one of the pockets in his suit jacket. I looked up at him as I took the pen, feeling his green eyes burning into me with an urgency. Wordlessly, I scanned the first page which had already been filled out. Ivany's full name, her age, birthday, place of birth, my birth place, my age, my name, our former address. It was all there already scrawled in black ink and when I looked up at him again I couldn't help but feel a little insulted that he had gone ahead without telling me. "Are you sure this is all right? I don't mean to sound rude but... you weren't there for most of her life. Are you sure all of this information is correct?" "I'm positive it's all correct but like I said, feel free to go over it, if you please." Bill noticed my hesitation after I scanned over a few more pages, skipping the tabs where I was supposed to sign. It wasn't that I didn't want Ivany to be a Skarsgård, it was just that I hadn't taken any time to mull it over in my head. Now that the documents were in front of me I had an odd taste on the back of my tongue. "J... What's the problem?" I rested the ball of the pen on the first line requiring my signature. "I don't know. It's just... Strange." "She's a Skarsgård in all ways but in name. What does it matter whose last name she has?" "Well, it obviously matters to you." "It does matter to me. Do you realize the opportunity she will have in the future? She's an heiress, J, and so are you." There was no way for me to describe to him the way I was feeling without coming off as selfish. What I wanted to say to him was that she was mine and had been for her entire life and that he should have consulted me before going through with the paperwork. I feared that once I signed those papers and Ivany's name reflected her Swedish half, Bill would have all of the leverage if things between us were to ever go awry. "I just want what's mine. Don't you miss being mine?" His words echoed in my memory. I remembered his threats when he had come to find me at first, before he had ever met Ivany. "Try to run and I will rain Hellfire down on you." I signed the pages. There was a nagging in the back of my head telling me that I was making a mistake but I chose to ignore it. My instincts weren't always reliable anyway and when I scrawled my signature by each red tab, Bill relaxed a little bit more. After all, I was content and Ivany had never seemed more happy. Bill had made good on his promises and when I looked up at him he gave me that smile that shone down on me warmer than the Sun ever could. The way his dimples flashed made me shiver in my chair and the kiss he gave me after accepting the papers back was laced with desire and a thankfulness that I knew he would rather show than say. "Thank you, my love." "You're welcome." "We will have to discuss her school enrollment very soon." I looked out over the terrace and sighed. "I suppose you're right. Summer is half over." "I have already looked into schools for her. There aren't many around here but there are a couple upstate that seem promising but what I would really like is for her to go to school in Sweden. Perhaps the same school I went to-" "Sweden?" I interrupted. "Yes. The education system is much better. I don't quite a agree with how children are taught in North American schools. There is a major lack of intimacy between teacher and student. It's almost like factory farms for children over here." "You want to move to Sweden?" "Of course not. I wouldn't be able to run business so soon." "Then how would she go to school there?" Bill cocked his head at me. "We would fly her there, of course." I stumbled over my speech a little before righting myself, spine straightening in my seat. "Do you mean we would send her away to school?" "Yes, it's a boarding school. I went there as a child. It's a fantastic school. Very prestigious and highly revered." "We are not sending Ivany away." Bill crossed his arms behind his back. "She needs to be educated properly." "She can be educated here." "I don't think you understand the level of honor it is to attend that school." "I don't really care. I don't want to send my daughter away, Bill! Jesus! I know you're her Father but you can't just make these decisions without me!" "No decisions have been made, so just calm down. There are plenty of schools to look into." I breathed in heavily through my nostrils. "Okay, but just... Don't freak me out like that." "There's nothing to be freaked out about. Ivany is going to the best school we can put her in. That should make you happy." "I am happy, trust me. I'm more than happy. I just cannot fathom sending her away. I can't." Bill set the papers down on the glass side table beside my chair and placed his hands on either of my shoulders. Squeezing me gently, he leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. "Don't worry," He chuckled, kissing my temple as he massaged my tense shoulders. "It was only a suggestion. You get fired up so quickly." "I'm sorry." "Don't be sorry." "But I am." "Oh, my love. What ever will I do with you?" I raised my face to receive another kiss from him. "I can think of a couple things." Bill bit his bottom lip as he stood up and grabbed the stack of papers from the side table again. "Well... Later on... I would like to see you in that new set I bought for you last week. The red one." "If you desire." "I do desire. I desire very much. Now, give Daddy another kiss. I'm going to go check on our sick little angel." His lips graced me with another slow, languid kiss. When he stood up I felt a burn lingering on my skin and as he left me to my book, I smiled.

[ourwickedworld]

The Rambling Man Travel Review: Reno, Nevada

Reno, Nevada…  The Biggest Little City in the world, located mere miles from scenic Lake Tahoe.  Reno, known for so many things.  Yes, gambling is probably the first thing that creeps into your head as you begin the initial descent into Reno / Tahoe International Airport on the East end of Reno.  But, Reno is so much more!!  And, to be clear, because in an odd way I get this question more often than not.  “No, Reno is not any where near Las Vegas!” Frankly, Sin City is a 6 plus hour car trip away.  And, yes, the two Old West towns have some things in common, but the truth is they have more uncommon than you would expect.  This is the Silver State, Ramblin with the Rambling Man, checking out the dudeability, the hang outs, the good time, hidden gems….  Rambling, walking, eating, drinking, fishing, hunting, sporting…   Rambling into town, and taking in the town for all its worth.  From local sporting events, to grabbing a cold beer, or strolling a midnight street in search of every dream inside my soul.

If you want to double down on 11 in a game of black jack, sure…  You can take lady luck for a twirl at most locations in Nevada.  Heck, you can gamble in the grocery store! Gambling, of course, does not hold a stick to legalized prostitution in the Silver State.  A must see “dude event,” a most unique experience while in Nevada.  One must visit a brothel.  The experience of Ringing the bell, having the ladies line up, and the entire pomp and circumstance of legalized prostitution…  This is Nevada!!  Embrace it Bro..    And, hey, I am not singing a sad cowboy tune, but one does not have to sleep with a hooker to visit a Brothel.  Gentleman, the experience of visiting the Whore House is truly West Coast Cowboy Country Cool.  The experience of visiting the relic of the old west sorta makes actually having to bang a hooker totally unnecessary.  But, if you do decide to go to Tuna Town in the desert.  The house madam at the Brothel, and Brothel ownership, usually have high standards of safety and satisfaction. Plus, the State of Nevada ensures STD safe sex.  What a Country!  More like what a State.  Yes, the only state with Legalized Prostitution, but not the only state with prostitution.  As the oldest profession continues its strong industry and economic success globally.  

Some suggestions: Mustang Ranch on the outskirts of Reno defines old west prostitution, and if you can avoid the rush of tires truck drivers who frequent the place, the experience is sure to remind you that being a dude is still groovy.  The experience is sure to make you proud once again to be the sole proprietor of your personal penis, regardless of size.  Mustang offers drinks and libations with the most perfect bar to take in a conversation with one of the many girls patrolling the room.  The many patrons, of course, have their own unique stories as well sitting near if you so desire to engage.  But, dang it bro, you are on vacation, strike up a conversation. Most Renoites will be more than happy to share a story or two, especially if you are talking golf, hookers, skiing, cold beer, or cards.  

I woke up a bit foggy… I think I got home around 3:30 AM, an UBER brought me from Mustang back to my downtown Reno hotel room at the Eldorado Hotel and Casino.  I was nude, my clothes from last night thrown over the chair adjacent to my bed, I could still smell the stench of Mustang and Crown Royal bellowing from my garments. What a night…  I need some coffee and to walk some of the haze from behind my eyes.  I take a quick walk upon exiting the casino doors at the Eldorado, moving South down Virginia St.  I then take a right turn on First St.  

I arrive at Hub Coffee Roasters on Riverside Dr in Reno.  I sit outside, a round table with an extra chair my only company.  I sip a tall black coffee and pick at my cheese Danish. My view is of the Truckee River and the adjacent walking trail and park.  The trees scream early fall as I sit still listening to the peace of the morning.  

On foot one can embrace a new city on a much more intimate level.  You can walk almost in slow motion as you take in the new sights, smells, and people.  My walk today has a walking path that winds around the Truckee River directly West towards the Keystone Ave Bridge, the Booth St. Bridge, and Idlewild Park.  The orange, yellow leaves under my feet, as cool mountain air surrounds me.  I hear chirps from a few birds, and the 10:00 AM train and its screech and horn.  The water from the river heads East, against my walk.  It is a most perfect morning, and I am stoned immaculate in my city by the big lake in the Sierras.  You can almost smell that the snow of Winter is near, I walk.  My head phones in both ears, music plays, song after song.  I hear my playlist, my shuffle playlist. The many songs from Apple I-Tunes subscription.  

Three miles is a decent introduction walk to Reno, as I start my daily stroll from Hub Coffee Roasters by directly heading west on the adjacent walking trail…  I walk with the morning sun on my back, music keeping me company.  Beck, REM, Pearl Jam, Band of Horses, Elliot Smith, Mount Eerie, Bob Dylan….  The Truckee River from the nearby Sierra Nevada Mountain range brings fresh and clear water from the tops of elevated peaks seen in the distance, the river keeps me company as I ramble on.  It is a most perfect walk, a mix of solitude, water, fall, and some strange faces.  My own music allows me to not skip a beat.  

I have a personal tour of a local Cannabis Dispensary at 4 PM.  And dinner with an old friend, Clint Cates.   Yes, above and beyond gambling and prostitution, Nevada has recently legalized cannabis.  Yep, you can literally go pick up a sack at a local retail weed dealer.  What a country?  And they deliver…  

The inner workings of a cannabis dispensary, a bit underwhelming.  It is all about security in a cash only business… And, the chronic has some street value, no doubt.  So, bullet proof sheet rock, big safes with secret codes and levels of management. Not to mention, a big wall of people. I thought “Starbucks but weed” after 15 minutes into my tour because the Mynt Dispensary in Downtown Reno.  The place was packed, all sorts of sour faces and young people alike looking at such a variety of products.  Heck, when I was a kid, getting a sack of weed was a crap shoot. You would get a plastic sandwich bag with something green inside, and you would pay the man the cash.  Today, its sativa or Indica.  It’s oils, wax, vape pens, and don’t get me started on the names.  Pot can’t just be pot anymore.  Marketing has invaded the space, so pot now is Orange Krusk Kush, or Spiral to Insanity. Regardless, Reno has it all, and the Mynt Dispensary is close and will satisfy one’s curiosity on what is recreational legalization.  Check it out….  

Mr. Cates urged me to see the Grow Facility, the actual place the pot is grown.  And, talk about impressive…  To see such a green forest of pot inside the facility was one most unique experience.  What a country?  And, Nevada, Northern Nevada.  This place is lit, no pun intended.  

And, when you are stoned? Besides taking a walk and being outdoors, I enjoy food, duh…  I think that is the pothead mantra, let’s get high and eat are faces off.  For Clint’s chronic hospitality, and world class tour of the Mynt Dispensary facilities, I offered to buy the pot entrepreneur dinner.

Clint, he suggests a local staple, but a Cougar Stop first.  

We walk into The Polo Lounge with glazed eyes and an unquenchable thirst.  We pull up to seats at the bar, we were Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday in a pair of cowboy boots galloping into this local dive bar. And, we were looking for a cold drink.  

The Polo Lounge located in Midtown Reno is a retro and freaky dive bar with strange faces everywhere. The bar, however, is first and foremost a place to drink in a town of drinkers.  Did I mention?  Reno can drink.  I am feeling a Vodka and Tonic with a lemon night is on the horizon.  I am in the land of milk and honey, as this dive bar is also a Cougar den.  Hot, horny, older women.  And like fine wine, and vodka to my tongue, an older woman is truly as sexy as a woman can possible be.  Especially, if the music is loud, the drinks are cheap, and last call is just a rumor. That’s right, you can drink all day and all night in the Biggest Little City.  No last call!!  What a country bro!!!

Clint stumbles back from a food run, we lost most of the night in a haze of laughter, pick up lines, and bar games.  We even missed the food reservation.  Clint finds a solution!  He brings back some food from Miguel’s Mexican Cantina, a short walk away from The Polo Lounge.  I am mouth first into an onion and cheese enchilada and a chili relleno in the most elegant egg crepe as 2 AM reared its ugly head.  I order a cold beer to wash it down, The Polo Lounge happily accommodates our request to bring in outside food.  Dive bar, check.  Great company and laughter, check.  Great Mexican food, check!!  The Rambling Man thinks highly in regards to the drinkability and Eatability in the Biggest little City…

I sleep until high noon. The partly cloudy fall day brings a day to catch up.  I have one more night in Reno, what will the last day of my weekend getaway bring.  I hope more laughter, and more food.  

What will today bring, a Sunday afternoon and night in Reno.  I stick to my vacation theme, let’s walk, drink, eat, and find some laughter.

I start my last night with a Sunset Walk at nearby Virginia Lake.  The manmade lake is exactly one mile around, it is a big oval walking / running path near the intersection of Virginia St. and Plumb Lane in Reno.  It is a most beautiful walk and sunset.  I start my walk, set for 3 laps, at approximately 5:45 PM, sunset set for 6:20 PM, and the sky was set ablaze with all of autumn’s glory.  The lake is full of aquatic life, ducks, geese, turtles, fish.  With the best feature of Virginia Lake, a forest of sage brush. As dusk approaches, the smell from the sage brush is worth a billion silver dollars.  The smell of sun fading from summer, the old west meeting the fresh air of ancient mountain shadow.  Air so still, my heart beats in rhythm with the season.  

After the walk, I go to the nearby Atlantis Casino….  The Atlantis, less than a quarter mile from Virginia Lake, is where I will partake in the Steam Room with Eucalyptus spray and a world class massage.  I feel like I am made of rubber, I feel happy.  So, I make my way down to the sportsbook within the bowels of the Atlantis casino.  I grab a beer and a nearby handicapping sheet, I am going to bet on the NFL Sunday night game of the Week, it’s the Patriots vs the Chiefs.  What a game!!  I put $500 on Tom Brady, the old man from Nor Cal, to win the game by more than two points.  

At halftime, I stagger over to the Purple Parrot restaurant within the Atlantis to get my all time favorite sandwich, The Monty Cristo.  This fried sandwich with a side of strawberry preserves is not something I eat, nor even have the option of ordering.  The Monty Cristo with a side of fries, I sit at my table, lost in the casino carpet, and flashy neon lights, my eyes fixed upon the next numbers in the never ending run of Keno games on the overhead TV.  In my head, I keep wishing for eight numbers to match, a dream of wealth and fame surely awaits if I can only just get 8 numbers correct.  

The night fades into the swallows of tomorrow, I make my way back to downtown and the Eldorado.  My flight leaves tomorrow at 10:15 AM….

Hue of the TV radiates upon my tired and sleepy head, a weekend in Reno.  I spark my lighter, weed set aglow, I inhale.  Stoned immaculate, I am the Rambling Man.  Reno ENVY… Reno, Nevada…  Walkability Score:  9 out of 10,  Drinkability Score:  7 out of 10, Eatability Score:  7 out of 10, Overall Value:  8 of 10, The Ability of the City to Provide a Unique Experience:  10 of 10.

Or course, my weekend getaway is meant to start a conversation regarding travel.  Reno has so much more to offer, like most cities, it would take multiple trips to take it all in.  I, do however, list below some activities or events to consider when traveling to Reno.  

1.       Fish for Brown or Rainbow Trout in the Truckee River. Entrance Point at Mayberry Park west of town make this easy to access.  Artificial flies, a Salmon Egg, or even a piece of Bacon on the end of the stick will find success at dawn or twilight.  

2.       Check out a University of Nevada Football game at nearby Mackey Stadium in the Fall, a Nevada Basketball game in the Winter, or a Reno Aces Minor League Baseball game in the Spring or Summer.  Hey, we love our sports, and checking out a new venue is always cool.  

3.       Walking Options: Mayberry Park, Downtown Reno, Virginia Lake, Rancho San Rafael

4.       Harrah’s Auto Museum – This is a legit place, full of classic cars that will blow your mind.

5.       Rib Cookoff, Balloon Races, Hot August Nights, all tourists traps but a place to start a weekend to Ramble On…..  

Finally, and in closing, what is the soul of the city, what is the Soul of Reno?  Reno has two faces, and contradiction surrounds.  The beauty of Lake Tahoe, the Truckee River, the Sierra Nevada Mountains, alongside the despair of prostitution and gaming.  The city is the chain of vice, and the elegance of a perfect small town.  It is the old west, yet modern day growth and opportunity abounds.  It’s the Wild, Wild West, it’s the Biggest Little City in the World.  Regardless, Reno is a fantastic place to Ramble On.

The Rambling Man continues next week, we explore Athens, Georgia.  Please follow us on Twitter, @BarkmanPete. We are no longer on Facebook.  Why? Because Facebook sucks.  

Please consider checking out other Podcast segments available on The Pete Barkman Show. Segments include the following: The Rambling Man, Las Vegas Larry’s Losers ( sports picks, predictions, and handicapping).  And, our How To Live a Happy and Healthy Life Series.  Plus, much more.  The Pete Barkman Show, available on most Podcast Platforms.  

[vegi1]

5 Things You Need to Know about Veganism for Beginners

First of all, let's examine what "being vegan" really means. Many people think that being vegan only means eating plant-based foods and following a vegetarian diet, but the reality is that being vegan is much more than that.

Veganism is a lifestyle that tries to eliminate animal cruelty and exploitation as much as possible. This means not eating anything that contains meat or other animal products, and it also means not buying any non-food products that contain animal products or have been tested on animals. That is,veganism, in addition to having a vegetarian diet, means not using beauty and cosmetic products, personal care products and other things that harm animals in any way during their production process.

This is why there really isn't such a thing as "different types of vegans" such as ethical vegans, eco-friendly vegans, and health-conscious vegans, but they are all the result of adopting a vegan lifestyle.

As mentioned, being a vegan and having a vegetarian diet has various benefits, but the main philosophy of being a vegan is the desire to avoid any violence against animals and their exploitation. So anyone who chooses a vegan lifestyle is doing so with an ethical purpose, so we don't necessarily need to call these people "ethical vegetarians." There is only one type of being vegan, and that is completely different from having a vegetarian diet (which only refers to diet). Many people turn to vegetarianism for health or environmental reasons, which is great.

Going vegan is primarily for the animals, but there are other benefits that may encourage you to go vegan:

because of the animals

When you are vegan, you reduce the number of animals that are harmed and abused. You may think that one person alone will not have much impact on this process, but rest assured that even one person will be effective.

Cows are eating fodder at the feed station in livestock farming and a man is feeding them

For the sake of the planet

Animal husbandry consumes more water and produces more greenhouse gases than agriculture. Apart from this, the vegan lifestyle can also have a positive effect on our planet in other ways.

The globe between two young and fresh green leaves as a sign of veganism and vegetarianism holding the globe on a black background

for health

A common misconception is that all vegetarians are healthy. While cutting out meat and dairy can improve your health, there are also unhealthy processed vegan foods. It is not a problem to consume these foods once in a while just for pleasure, but you should know that they are not healthy foods. Some people even gain weight while on a vegetarian diet because they eat too much packaged plant-based meat and cheese.

You will enjoy the health benefits of vegetarianism when you not only have a whole plant diet without animal products, but also without processed foods such as oil and sugar. It has also been found that eating a whole plant-based diet can prevent or even improve various chronic diseases, including diabetes, heart disease, and obesity.

Foods that vegans should avoid:

Vegetarians avoid eating any animal food or any food that contains animal products. These foods include:

Meat and poultry: beef, sheep, pork, veal, horse, internal organs (such as liver, etc.), meat of wild animals, chicken, turkey, goose, duck, quail, etc.

Fish and seafood: all kinds of fish, anchovies, shrimp, squid, scallops, calamari, oysters, crabs, lobsters, etc.

Dairy products: milk, yogurt, cheese, butter, cream, curd, ice cream, etc

Bird eggs: chicken, quail, ostrich, fish, etc.

Bee products: honey, bee pollen, royal jelly, etc

Animal products: mayonnaise, cheese juice, casein, lactose, egg white albumen, gelatin, cochineal or carmine, fish oil, shellac, L-cysteine, vitamin D3 from animals and omega-3 fatty acids from fish.

Note: Natural flavors and aromas (these products can also be obtained from vegan sources, but if the product does not have the title "vegan", it is better to contact the manufacturer to be sure)

Whenever you buy a packaged item from the store, such as chips, salad dressing, cookies, bread, etc., you should check for yourself whether it is vegan or not. All these products are available in both vegan and non-vegan versions. If it says "vegan" on the packaging, it will be easy for you, but if not, you should check the list of ingredients and ingredients yourself.

[ourroyalhoney]

Honey ranchers who produce Buy Golden Royal Honey Online can possibly name and sell their honey if their honey bees have not been exposed to any sort of contamination, for example, pesticides which are accepted to be the fundamental culprits of our honey bee misfortunes.

[likesbulgaria]

Common failing with tourists

There is a common failing with tourists, of wishing to buy everything in the way of souvenirs of a place as soon as they arrive ; instead of waiting to see which is the most advantageous market. In this mood, I thought it proper to lay in a stock of otto of roses immediately; and we went to the most famous merchant of the bazaar for this purpose. We were asked into a small back room, in which were soft cushions to sit upon ; and the attendant directly filled a pipe for each of us, and brought some coffee, in tiny cups placed in a little metal stand, the size of an egg-cup. The pipe-sticks were of cherry- wood, and very long: where the red bowl rested on the matting, a neat little brass tray was placed : and a small charcoal fire-place in the corner, on which the codec was made, supplied the braise to light the latakia.

I was very much disappointed with the Turkish coffee, of which we hear so much in England : it is not to he mentioned in the same breath with that of the Estaminet Hollandais, in the Palais Royal, or any other good Parisian house. The coffee, in this instance, was bruised rather than ground, made very strong, sweetened, and then poured out, grouts and all, into the little cups. When it had settled, it was- carefully sipped, and the grounds filled up above a third of the cup.

There was much to look at in our merchant’s shop. Apart from his perfumes, he dealt in Damascus arms, tiger skins, and Persian curiosities — these latter being chiefly portfolios, looking- glasses, and oblong cases, which my lady friends at home have pronounced to make admirable knitting-boxes. They were all painted with representations of ladies and gentlemen hunting, making love, and walking about in fine gardens. The ladies appeared all of one family, with marvellously dark, almond-shaped eyes; and the gentlemen had long, black beards, that a French sapeur might have hoped in vain to have equalled. Everything, however, was outrageously dear.

The purest essential

The otto was poured into the little gilded bottles we are familiar with; and in each of their slender channels a little balloon of air was left that the purchaser might sec he was not cheated, by floating it up and down. There are different kinds of otto. the cheapest is exceedingly nasty, and leaves a scent behind it something between turpentine and peppermint : it is as bad in its way as Boulogne eau-de-Cologne. The best costs about sixteen-pence a bottle. This is the purest essential oil of the rose, and will impart its scent to a casket or drawer for years, even through the piece of bladder tied over it.

The shop-keepers come to the bazaar in the morning, and leave it at night, when it is shut up. They take their meals there, however. Oue, a shawl-merchant, was making a light dinner from grapes and bulls’-ej’es; another had bread and dates; and many had little portions of minced meats done in leaves, from the cook- shops. Of a coarser kind were the refreshments carried about by men on round trays. These were chiefly cold pancakes, chestnuts of poor flavor, rings of cake-bread, fruits and sweetmeats. Of these last, the rah-hak-ln-coom (I spell it as pronounced) is the most popular. It is made, I was told, of honey, rice, and almonds, and flavored with otto in an extremely delicate manner. Its meaning is, “ giving repose to the throat private tour ephesus.”

The bazaars are perfect thoroughfares for horses and carriages, as well as for foot-passengers; and as there is no division in the narrow row between road and footway, one must always be on his guard. Now, a man of importance, with his servant running at his stirrup, will come by; now, one of the lumbering carriages filled with women. And, indeed, these latter form the principal class of customers. Early in the day they crowd to the finery shops, and there you will sec them having everything unrolled, whether they want it or not, comparing, haggling and debating, exactly as our own ladies would do at any “ enormous sacrifice” that “ must be cleared” in a few days. Sometimes, by great good chance, you may see a taper ankle and small white naked foot displayed at the shoe-shop; but, under such circumstances, you must not appear to be looking on, or the merchant may address some observation to you very uncomplimentary to the female branches of your family, and singularly forcible to lie uttered beforo his lady customers. Of verbal delicacy, however, the Turkish women have not the slightest notion.

[bulgariaadvice]

Common failing with tourists

There is a common failing with tourists, of wishing to buy everything in the way of souvenirs of a place as soon as they arrive ; instead of waiting to see which is the most advantageous market. In this mood, I thought it proper to lay in a stock of otto of roses immediately; and we went to the most famous merchant of the bazaar for this purpose. We were asked into a small back room, in which were soft cushions to sit upon ; and the attendant directly filled a pipe for each of us, and brought some coffee, in tiny cups placed in a little metal stand, the size of an egg-cup. The pipe-sticks were of cherry- wood, and very long: where the red bowl rested on the matting, a neat little brass tray was placed : and a small charcoal fire-place in the corner, on which the codec was made, supplied the braise to light the latakia.

I was very much disappointed with the Turkish coffee, of which we hear so much in England : it is not to he mentioned in the same breath with that of the Estaminet Hollandais, in the Palais Royal, or any other good Parisian house. The coffee, in this instance, was bruised rather than ground, made very strong, sweetened, and then poured out, grouts and all, into the little cups. When it had settled, it was- carefully sipped, and the grounds filled up above a third of the cup.

There was much to look at in our merchant’s shop. Apart from his perfumes, he dealt in Damascus arms, tiger skins, and Persian curiosities — these latter being chiefly portfolios, looking- glasses, and oblong cases, which my lady friends at home have pronounced to make admirable knitting-boxes. They were all painted with representations of ladies and gentlemen hunting, making love, and walking about in fine gardens. The ladies appeared all of one family, with marvellously dark, almond-shaped eyes; and the gentlemen had long, black beards, that a French sapeur might have hoped in vain to have equalled. Everything, however, was outrageously dear.

The purest essential

The otto was poured into the little gilded bottles we are familiar with; and in each of their slender channels a little balloon of air was left that the purchaser might sec he was not cheated, by floating it up and down. There are different kinds of otto. the cheapest is exceedingly nasty, and leaves a scent behind it something between turpentine and peppermint : it is as bad in its way as Boulogne eau-de-Cologne. The best costs about sixteen-pence a bottle. This is the purest essential oil of the rose, and will impart its scent to a casket or drawer for years, even through the piece of bladder tied over it.

The shop-keepers come to the bazaar in the morning, and leave it at night, when it is shut up. They take their meals there, however. Oue, a shawl-merchant, was making a light dinner from grapes and bulls’-ej’es; another had bread and dates; and many had little portions of minced meats done in leaves, from the cook- shops. Of a coarser kind were the refreshments carried about by men on round trays. These were chiefly cold pancakes, chestnuts of poor flavor, rings of cake-bread, fruits and sweetmeats. Of these last, the rah-hak-ln-coom (I spell it as pronounced) is the most popular. It is made, I was told, of honey, rice, and almonds, and flavored with otto in an extremely delicate manner. Its meaning is, “ giving repose to the throat private tour ephesus.”

The bazaars are perfect thoroughfares for horses and carriages, as well as for foot-passengers; and as there is no division in the narrow row between road and footway, one must always be on his guard. Now, a man of importance, with his servant running at his stirrup, will come by; now, one of the lumbering carriages filled with women. And, indeed, these latter form the principal class of customers. Early in the day they crowd to the finery shops, and there you will sec them having everything unrolled, whether they want it or not, comparing, haggling and debating, exactly as our own ladies would do at any “ enormous sacrifice” that “ must be cleared” in a few days. Sometimes, by great good chance, you may see a taper ankle and small white naked foot displayed at the shoe-shop; but, under such circumstances, you must not appear to be looking on, or the merchant may address some observation to you very uncomplimentary to the female branches of your family, and singularly forcible to lie uttered beforo his lady customers. Of verbal delicacy, however, the Turkish women have not the slightest notion.

[hotbulgaria]

Common failing with tourists

There is a common failing with tourists, of wishing to buy everything in the way of souvenirs of a place as soon as they arrive ; instead of waiting to see which is the most advantageous market. In this mood, I thought it proper to lay in a stock of otto of roses immediately; and we went to the most famous merchant of the bazaar for this purpose. We were asked into a small back room, in which were soft cushions to sit upon ; and the attendant directly filled a pipe for each of us, and brought some coffee, in tiny cups placed in a little metal stand, the size of an egg-cup. The pipe-sticks were of cherry- wood, and very long: where the red bowl rested on the matting, a neat little brass tray was placed : and a small charcoal fire-place in the corner, on which the codec was made, supplied the braise to light the latakia.

I was very much disappointed with the Turkish coffee, of which we hear so much in England : it is not to he mentioned in the same breath with that of the Estaminet Hollandais, in the Palais Royal, or any other good Parisian house. The coffee, in this instance, was bruised rather than ground, made very strong, sweetened, and then poured out, grouts and all, into the little cups. When it had settled, it was- carefully sipped, and the grounds filled up above a third of the cup.

There was much to look at in our merchant’s shop. Apart from his perfumes, he dealt in Damascus arms, tiger skins, and Persian curiosities — these latter being chiefly portfolios, looking- glasses, and oblong cases, which my lady friends at home have pronounced to make admirable knitting-boxes. They were all painted with representations of ladies and gentlemen hunting, making love, and walking about in fine gardens. The ladies appeared all of one family, with marvellously dark, almond-shaped eyes; and the gentlemen had long, black beards, that a French sapeur might have hoped in vain to have equalled. Everything, however, was outrageously dear.

The purest essential

The otto was poured into the little gilded bottles we are familiar with; and in each of their slender channels a little balloon of air was left that the purchaser might sec he was not cheated, by floating it up and down. There are different kinds of otto. the cheapest is exceedingly nasty, and leaves a scent behind it something between turpentine and peppermint : it is as bad in its way as Boulogne eau-de-Cologne. The best costs about sixteen-pence a bottle. This is the purest essential oil of the rose, and will impart its scent to a casket or drawer for years, even through the piece of bladder tied over it.

The shop-keepers come to the bazaar in the morning, and leave it at night, when it is shut up. They take their meals there, however. Oue, a shawl-merchant, was making a light dinner from grapes and bulls’-ej’es; another had bread and dates; and many had little portions of minced meats done in leaves, from the cook- shops. Of a coarser kind were the refreshments carried about by men on round trays. These were chiefly cold pancakes, chestnuts of poor flavor, rings of cake-bread, fruits and sweetmeats. Of these last, the rah-hak-ln-coom (I spell it as pronounced) is the most popular. It is made, I was told, of honey, rice, and almonds, and flavored with otto in an extremely delicate manner. Its meaning is, “ giving repose to the throat private tour ephesus.”

The bazaars are perfect thoroughfares for horses and carriages, as well as for foot-passengers; and as there is no division in the narrow row between road and footway, one must always be on his guard. Now, a man of importance, with his servant running at his stirrup, will come by; now, one of the lumbering carriages filled with women. And, indeed, these latter form the principal class of customers. Early in the day they crowd to the finery shops, and there you will sec them having everything unrolled, whether they want it or not, comparing, haggling and debating, exactly as our own ladies would do at any “ enormous sacrifice” that “ must be cleared” in a few days. Sometimes, by great good chance, you may see a taper ankle and small white naked foot displayed at the shoe-shop; but, under such circumstances, you must not appear to be looking on, or the merchant may address some observation to you very uncomplimentary to the female branches of your family, and singularly forcible to lie uttered beforo his lady customers. Of verbal delicacy, however, the Turkish women have not the slightest notion.