Ladies of the Castle

[guthrie_gals]

The four Princesses Guthrie, heirs apparent to the Southern Throne, lounge in their uncle's sitting room, fanning themselves in the late summer heat.

Paige frowns at a plate of sliced apples drizzled in honey. She rubs her palms together. The skin pebbles and crumbles, falling onto the apples with a sudden whiff of cinnamon and nutmeg.

Joelene

Comments

[widowhood_bites]

"Joelene," greets a familiar redhead. "You look lovely today. But you may want to reconsider your expression." She focuses her gaze on the young princess' forehead. "Wrinkles, dear. You're far too young to let the cares of the world weigh so heavily on you. Far better to present a serene countenance that can conceal your true thoughts."

[guthrie_gals]

Joelene curtseys gracefully before her aunt.

"Yes'm." Before she rises, her face smoothes to a look of courtly innocense.

[guthrie_gals]

"How do I look today, Auntie? I've been working on my makeup."

Sammy stambles to her feet, smiling eagerly.

[widowhood_bites]

Natalia examines Sammy critically. "Much better," she finally judges, "though you may wish a shade less dark of pain 'pon your lips. A fresh, girlish pink is more appropriate to your station."

[agodlesscommie]

Piotr Nikolievitch Rasputin, patriarch of this motley family, is in his study, sequestered away from his new foster daughters' cacophony, trying to tend to matters of state. Parchments of various kinds are scattered about his desk, but all too often he finds himself gazing out the window, to the rolling fields beyond.

He'd won his glories on fields such as those in ages past. The memories will remain in his heart and mind forever, even though his countrymen have demanded different service of him now. Some days he feels like the unworthy Thane of Cawdor, a pretender driven by some sort of subconscious avarice to such a lofty position as king of the northlands. This was never something he'd aspired to. Never something he'd even considered.

Yet, events transpired as they had, and the burden upon his shoulders grew larger, and somehow less pressing. Blood brothers warbound 'til the end was a responsibility he took on gladly.

Administration of the laws of the land... well, King Rasputin continues to try.

[widowhood_bites]

"Is it the taxes again?" asks his wife solicitously as she enters his study. As is often her custom on such visits, she moves behind his chair to stroke the back of his head and neck, feeling the tension in his muscles.

[agodlesscommie]

As is too often the case with her, Piotr does not detect her entrance until she speaks. He's learned to mute the starts she gives him.

"Zoning ordinances," he says wearily, and not wishing to bore her any further.

"How are the girls?"

[widowhood_bites]

"Ah, much the same as they have been." She smiles and softly kisses his temple. "Another suitor has come, but he cannot hope to compare with their uncle. You are a paragon of manhood, beloved."