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Teacher and Pupil

Auteur: bluemorose
last update Dernière mise à jour: 2024-01-07 20:02:13

*Ana*

“They are doing it again.” Naska’s voice makes me break my concentration.

“Doing what?” I look up from my book to find her at the window. She’s looking down with a growing sneer.

“Pesky bastards.” She curses and closes the blinds as if to cut out whatever it is. It won’t work because the window blows them aside again. Today is windy with the change from summer to autumn. Time is moving on. And my coronation looms ever closer.

I wish it to be over with already. I think sourly. This whole
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  • Will Bear the Moon   Chapter 99 Reflect and Deflect

    *Hidi*Hidi took her time dressing.She moved with deliberate slowness, each gesture calculated to contain the fury threatening to detonate beneath her skin. It was a rather daunting task to be honest. For one her size and temperament, she who'd never met a door she couldn't barrel through, a problem she couldn't solve with sheer force. Or a good sharp sword through the chest, it was practically impossible. Or she’d thought so. But somehow, she seemed to muster some hidden reservoir of restraint from within just when the call demanded.Her large fingers, usually so decisive, slightly trembled as the corrected invisible flaws in her seams. The silk thread felt rough against her fingertips, catching on calluses earned from years of sword training her mother had insisted upon. The memory rose unbidden, sharp and blinding as a crisp winter morning in Almony's mountains.She'd been seven. Still growing into her height, all knees and elbows, already taller than most human children her age

  • Will Bear the Moon   Chapter 98 Last Hurrah

    *King Alexander*This damn cold. The curse barely passed his lips, rough as tree bark, dry as autumn leaves crushed underfoot. It emerged on a whisper of breath so thin it might have been imagination, might have been the wind rattling through stone gaps. But he felt it everywhere. In his bones where marrow had turned to ice. In joints that creaked like rusted hinges. Even beneath the mountain of furs and woolen blankets that pressed down on him like packed earth, Alexander shivered.Despite pelts from northern wolves and quilts stuffed with goose down, despite the fire that never stopped burning, Alexander was cold. He was always cold now. The kind of cold that came from inside, that no amount of external heat could touch. And always tired. Gods, was he so tired.Each breath rattled its way up from somewhere deep and wet—a sound like drowning in reverse, like something being dragged from the bottom of a well. His chest ached with the effort, every inhale catching on the brittle cage

  • Will Bear the Moon   Chapter 97 The Cage Left Open

    *Belinda*A flush of crimson surged up her throat like blood through water, blooming hot beneath her high-buttoned collar before the door had even finished groaning open. The heat crawled along her spine with fingers of flame, settling sharp as glass shards behind her cheekbones, painting her pale skin with the particular shade of fury that comes from fear turned inward.And, for once, she didn’t bother to smooth it down.Didn't reach for that practiced mask of serenity. Had the fury and something else, that terrible, tender thing she'd tried to kill—flicker wild across her face like shadows from a dying fire. The heavy moan of the shattered the hearth's constant crackle, that ceaseless whisper of wood surrendering to flame that had masked her approach. It was enough, barely, to drag his attention from whatever foolishness had possessed him this time.Alexander froze.Thin, parchment-colored fingers stiffened mid-motion. His knuckles jutted out like branches stripped bare. The feathe

  • Will Bear the Moon   Chapter 96 Beneath The Steam

    *Julia*The drawer hung open behind her like an accusation, its contents forgotten, abandoned mid-search. Her frustrated vexation over misplaced things had evaporated like steam, rendered meaningless beneath the weight of a single, unbearable gaze.A pair of pale brown eyes, steady and unreadable,anchored her in place and swallowed the room whole.Julia didn't move. Couldn't.She only stood caught between breath and stillness, spine locked in the posture of a woman who had risen too quickly—the motion fossilizing inside her bones as if her very skeleton had turned traitor. Her arm remained frozen in space, fingers curled just above the open drawer like a hand reaching for salvation that would never come.Halfway to something. Halfway to ruin. Halfway to nowhere at all. The scent of the tea hung between them —bark and crushed hips, root and silence. Steam rose from the pot's spout in a thin, translucent ribbon, spiraling upward with languid grace before the room's heat caught it, ben

  • Will Bear the Moon   Chapter 95 Errand

    *Julia* Julia stopped so suddenly her skirt swayed like a bell behind her, the stiff fabric sighing against her stockings with a dry rustle. She stood just shy of the spicery—no, the jar store, as it was formally called on the records—but everyone who mattered knew its true nature. A vault of flavors. A treasury of scent. One of the most guarded and indulgent rooms in the entire castle, where kingdoms could be toppled with a pinch of the wrong powder. It’s door looked identical to its siblings in this corridor—dark oak bearing the same ornate carvings, the same patterns of roses and thorns that decorated every surface in this wing. Save for one crucial difference.This door was always locked. Always.It required a key—not just any key, but an intricate, custom-forged piece of metalwork so unique that duplicating it would require the original locksmith's hands, and he'd been dead for thirty years. A key given only to those who had proven themselves beyond loyalty, beyond question. Th

  • Will Bear the Moon   Chapter 94 Prt. II Hidden Veil

    *Nicoli*Nicoli exhaled, the breath leaving him in tatters, sharp and unraveling at the edges like fabric overworn and too thin."Well," he muttered at last to the empty room, forcing his mouth into a crooked crescent of lips and brittle humor, "at least the tea had a lovely time."The joke fell flat, of course, as most did when the only audience was dying embers and a half-devoured plate of biscuits. Still, he let the words linger in the quiet, clinging to the hollow echo of them like they might soften the edge of everything else.He turned back to the table, its surface still pristine in all the ways that mattered—and ruined in all the ways that didn’t.The fine tea remained untouched in cups so delicate they seemed to hold light rather than liquid. Gold traced their rims like captured sunlight, and the aroma still haunted the air—cardamom and star anise, citrus peel kissed with clove, a blend his mother hoarded like dragon's gold. She rarely shared it, even with distinguished guest

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