#rahellene

I am sorry, Tumblr. It has been 2,533 words since my last confession writing progress update. HERE IS A QUOTE FROM SOME OF IT.

“You will govern Audiva Rocale in your own time, daughter. I shall endeavor to do my best at it until then. Now, with all due respect, I feel this conversation has strayed far from what is appropriate, considering our audience.”

The heat of self-consciousness races up neck and cheeks. I bow and take a step away, afraid to be judged as eavesdropping.

Jhe Rahellene looks over at me for a fraction of a second, then directs her attention back to the King. “I see no reason not to continue.” It’s not disdain in her voice, it’s an implication that I won’t even matter in the long run. I’d feel insulted, but being regarded as an inconsequential person is a step up in the world from being regarded as merchandise.

“Of course you don’t. You are your grandmother’s favorite, after all.” The King turns, then gestures for me to follow him.

“What does that mean? She’s your mother, and she has some very good ideas!” Jhe Rahellene moves to follow him as he leaves the room.

“Yes she is. Whereas I am your father, so of course I have none. I am retiring to my rooms now.” His tone stays mild, but it has an edge of finality.

Jhe Rahellene does not follow. “May the night moon keep you.”

I wrapped up Rahellene and Gerald little brunch scene. Here's a chunk:

The princess frowns. “Jhe Garnet, does my Uncle not charm you anymore, or is it only when he is in his moods?”

Curse me, I’ve forgotten my pretended role. “I must admit it is difficult to endure this stretch of time when he does nothing but scowl and pretend sleep. I’m no use to him now, even to lighten his mood. I miss his companionship. He does still say he wishes to keep me with him. That shall have to sustain me.”

Jhe Rahellene reaches forward and pats me on the hand, her face full of empathy. “You’re a good companion. My Uncle’s mood has improved so much since you showed up on his arm. He’ll turn his face to the sun again. Wait for him in the light.”

286 words today. It's not a whole bunch but there are a lot of distractions that aren't actually the internet. I'll try drawing some more instead, then maybe pick up this thread later today when I can concentrate.

I'm not sure if it's been stated in a previous update, but the female identity Gerald is donning to spy in is named Garnet.

Snippet:

“Jhe Garnet! Oh, and so fetching in that new little frock. Come in, and then turn around so that I might see the whole thing!”

There was a stretch a few months back when I was unable to write, or did so sporadically, and then after that I fell out of the habit of posting wordcounts and excerpts. I need to get back on track, so here we go. Today I wrote 641 words. It's about halfway into Chapter 7, which is not at all analogous to the events in Peacock King's first draft Chapter 7. But the pace is picking up and Char and I have worked out a LOT of the things I was confused about. This should be a good book.

Anyway, this is an excerpt. Sometimes these make no sense, I'm sure, but I like to document how well I'm writing during any given day.

Jhe Rahellene dwarfs me as I walk at her side. She wasn’t that tall in the garden. It means her shoes are giving her six inches of extra height that, combined with her slender figure and royal bearing, make her seem much taller than she really is. Her wide hat is also very tall, long ropes of straight black hair looped under it in an elaborate series of knots. I’d think it took patience to sit through such styling, but because of her surprise breakfast appearance I know it’s a wig. She doesn’t have a bit of the relaxed, carefree nature she exhibited at breakfast. Regal and composed in an ornate black robe tied with a wide red sash, she looks every bit her father’s daughter.

Judging by the shocked expressions from the Court’s gentry, I’m lucky to be at her side. Whispers of amazement ebb in our wake. Jhe Rahellene doesn’t acknowledge them, though she does incline her head once or twice to a few of what I assume are her favored people. Zhevesti towers over the throng from a position very near the front of the ranks of onlookers. He scowls at the sight of me, but his face lightens when he looks upon his niece.

She settles near his side. “Your favorite isn’t here with you?” She winks. “She’d better hurry back. Someone else might curry your favor in her stead.”

He snorts at that, but it’s enough to bring a smile to his face. “She’ll not mind your taking her place for a moment.”