Being Consort to the Queen of a Territory in the wake of a war was tiring work. Being the landen Consort, who was just as interested in the well-being of the Territory's non-Blood population as he was in the affairs of the Blood themselves, was extra exhausting. The week had been filled with paperwork and appointments, negotiating fairer exchange ( Read more... )

Between the multiple days of Winsol being celebrated by the Blood of Kaeleer, and the fact that Christmas was pretty much upon them now, it had been a hectic week leading up to tonight. Warren hadn't really expected a Christmas celebration on top of all of the festivities of Winsol, no, but Karla had insisted, and so he was going to make certain ( Read more... )

Well. Warren hadn't had a good back-and-forth frustrated prowl around a room in months. Of course, Warren usually didn't let himself get to the point of pacing and grumbling to himself. It was bad form. Hell, it was rude, which was why Warren had excused himself from the function tonight that saw one of the less gilt rooms in the estate full of ( Read more... )

That morning they had walked. The landens had handled the move, taking care of packing up camp, of leading the march. They'd carried the wounded through the snow, and had scouted ahead until the Blood that were travelling with them had started to behave more like themselves.

And then, on the Consort's orders, they'd travelled farther still, until ( Read more... )

It wasn't quite the thick of a Glacian winter just yet, but there was just enough chill in the air that getting to climb into a warm bedroll with someone to cuddle up to was one hell of a luxury, these days. There was snow on the ground out there, it was windy enough tonight that the walls of the tent rippled, and Warren actually found himself ( Read more... )

So, Warren had been sitting on it now for a little while. It had only been a day, according to Fandom, since Karla had formed her Court, but in Kaeleer, it had been two. A very busy two. They were in Haven, now, making the last of their plans before the procession into Sidra and everything that that would entail. And, the entire time, there was ( Read more... )

It was really bound to happen sooner or later. Instead of being under-dressed for an occasion, as was almost certainly the case nine times out of ten, Warren was very thoroughly over- dressed. He and Karla had been enjoying their vacation (yes, even after the unexpected company that was Jonothon had been settled into one of the extra rooms in the ( Read more... )

It had been late last night when Warren and Karla had returned to the island, fully intent to get a night's rest before setting off again in the morning. They had plans to visit Captain Chiba in Hawaii for their birthday tomorrow, after all, to get spoiled on his yacht while celebrating Karla's victory during her Offering without a good amount of ( Read more... )

So, February was fired. Officially. Out of a cannon and into the sun, if Warren had any say in the matter. What had apparently been a few days since Valentine's Day for everyone else had, for Warren and Karla, only been a matter of the worst hour-long Portalocity stopover ever. Warren was forever going to be wary of pit stops in 'historic London,' ( Read more... )

Any newfound sense of companionship that had come from being possessed into seduction didn't last much past the fourth dead end they discovered. At each dead end, Karla tried to pass through with the same lack of result. Then they'd turn around and try to backtrack to whichever hallway branch had led them to that particular dead-end, only to find ( Read more... )