Is the Law of Our Side?: Part Two

"Admit me chorus to this history"

November 10th

"Court will reconvene in one hour." 

After a tedious first half of the day, the observers in the balcony were anxious for relief. Cherry Albion stood before the magistrate's echo stopped, already adjusting her tiara. It was a stunning piece she felt well worth the trouble of actually wearing on her head. "Father?"

The Traffic of Our Stage

"Exit, pursued by a bear."

July 5th

The experience of months of rehearsals and a premiere performance seemed all for naught. The cast and crew of Who is The Gatekeeper? were in upheaval. The costumers were so far backed up that the stagehands had been called in to fix buttons and hems and hair. Finding things not been carefully reset after last night, Ann was re-organizing the sets and props herself. The few stagehands left to her mostly stood around her, insisting they had not made this mess. Morgaine was ambassador to the various provinces of this kingdom of insanity. As she ran to and fro, she shouted out warnings and reminders to anyone who had ears.

After learning a lesson last night, when she barely finished being dressed before the curtain went up, Belle Norman had arrived very early. She was among the first to be ready tonight. However, this had created a problem of a different sort: Belle had more time than she knew what to do with and no-one to spend it with.

Glorious to This Night

"The sight of lovers feedeth those in love."

June 25th

"Who is my special boy? Who is my special boy?" 

"Gran-mo!" Little Frederick waved his arms and grinned. "Gran-mo!"

Ophelia cuddled her grandson and patted his back. Frederick's small vocabulary had never yet stopped him from talking. Much like his father had, he chattered on happily, often answering any question with the name of the person asking it. The main exception was her husband, whom Frederick had decided was also 'Gran-mo'. "Almost, my precious." Just as she considered her stepson as her own, she loved Frederick as much as she would her daughters' children.

No Without-Book Prologue

"They have their exits and their entrances."

March 29th

Albion Manor was rarely a dull place. Lord Albion himself was always running to and fro to satisfy his responsibilities to the purse of the realm. His lady wife was never without a project, whether it was illustrating a book of poetry or rearranging the furniture in search of perfect chromatic harmony. Adrian's idle hours had been eaten up by his baby son, Frederick, who was the darling of the family. Adrian's wife, Ann, made it seem like she had thirty-six hours in day - she doted on Frederick, competed in archery, and was part of the three-headed monster that was the Theatrical Society of Verona, alongside the Albion daughters, Cherry and Morgaine.

An Old Accustomed Feast: Part Four

Content Warning: Click Here for Warnings (Possible Spoilers)

"These are portents; but yet I hope, I hope, they do not point on me."

December 25th

"Empty. What a cock-up," Cornwall muttered. He needed a drink - no, he deserved a drink. Since drinking the Fae potion to satisfy Regan, he was enduring a second adolescence ten times as potent than the first. If he hadn't yet been aroused by a hole in a fence, it was only a matter of time. The lust was like a headache. Relieving it was necessary, not pleasureful. For all the fucking he had done in three weeks, he hadn't enjoyed any of it. Drinking took the edge off the aching. "Goddamn it, my kingdom for a drink..."