Moroi Court, Pennsylvania | Sunday Afternoon
Rose hadn’t gone to mass this morning. She knew she should, but she’d quite possibly - okay, definitely - overexerted herself training yesterday, and moving, even walking down to the church, seemed like way too much effort.
Plus she didn’t like the idea of the entire Court seeing her walk like freaking grandmother. It’d be bad for the Moroi to see the Queen’s guardian like that...and embarrassing. Really, really embarrassing. Dhampir healing was fast, but apparently being shot in the chest still took a little while to come back from.
Instead she was bored and poking again at that blank spot in her mind where the bond used to be. She needed to talk to Lissa. She didn’t want to talk to Lissa. But she needed to. There’d been ceremonies and parties and things where Rose had stood quietly, looking on with the impassive face of a guardian (and tried not to move at all), but they hadn’t spoken alone since Rose was still over-medicated.
Laying back on the bed, she stared up at the red velvet canopy and wondered again how she’d ended up there. Sure, it had been the aim, but she was always surprised when one of her plans actually worked.
[OOC: For the Queen but also open to phone calls/texts from Fandomites.]
Plus she didn’t like the idea of the entire Court seeing her walk like freaking grandmother. It’d be bad for the Moroi to see the Queen’s guardian like that...and embarrassing. Really, really embarrassing. Dhampir healing was fast, but apparently being shot in the chest still took a little while to come back from.
Instead she was bored and poking again at that blank spot in her mind where the bond used to be. She needed to talk to Lissa. She didn’t want to talk to Lissa. But she needed to. There’d been ceremonies and parties and things where Rose had stood quietly, looking on with the impassive face of a guardian (and tried not to move at all), but they hadn’t spoken alone since Rose was still over-medicated.
Laying back on the bed, she stared up at the red velvet canopy and wondered again how she’d ended up there. Sure, it had been the aim, but she was always surprised when one of her plans actually worked.
[OOC: For the Queen but also open to phone calls/texts from Fandomites.]