Room 515, Thursday Night
Shortly after returning to Bordertown from the Never Never, Leda had visited Mooner's grave, and forgiven him for the destruction of Castle Pup, and asked for his forgiveness for how things had wound up between them.
Upon return to Faery, she managed to avoid too much ceremony (they'd wanted to parade her through every damn town on the way to the palace). She'd gotten a tour of the royal palace, which on her insistence had included the servant's wing and the kitchens.
And she'd playfully ordered her friends to refrain from any bowing, scraping, or calling her 'your highness' when they weren't in public. She was Leda to everyone who'd known her. It was not the name she was born with, but Dearest Treasure of the Royal House of Danu had little meaning for her.
When she'd decreed she would finish school before agreeing to the ridiculous notion of her ruling anyone, Strider had agreed. And Leander had given her many a tome on some things she might find it useful to study up on. Like Elven politics.
That open book was currently acting as a pillow to Leda, who lay with her cheek in the crease of the binding, and mercifully not drooling on the ancient text. She was snoring slightly though.
[Door and post are open!]
Upon return to Faery, she managed to avoid too much ceremony (they'd wanted to parade her through every damn town on the way to the palace). She'd gotten a tour of the royal palace, which on her insistence had included the servant's wing and the kitchens.
And she'd playfully ordered her friends to refrain from any bowing, scraping, or calling her 'your highness' when they weren't in public. She was Leda to everyone who'd known her. It was not the name she was born with, but Dearest Treasure of the Royal House of Danu had little meaning for her.
When she'd decreed she would finish school before agreeing to the ridiculous notion of her ruling anyone, Strider had agreed. And Leander had given her many a tome on some things she might find it useful to study up on. Like Elven politics.
That open book was currently acting as a pillow to Leda, who lay with her cheek in the crease of the binding, and mercifully not drooling on the ancient text. She was snoring slightly though.
[Door and post are open!]