This nasty cold is lingering far longer than I hoped it would. My husband’s on the couch with a box of tissues and a cup of Throat Coat tea next to him, covered with all the spare blankets we have downstairs. I’m prepping for bed now, despite it being only 8pm.
I have nearly nothing to report for my ROW80 goals. I did a beta read for someone, and I’ve been reading through Swan Song. Nothing else.
So what that leaves is the WIPpet. I do have that…
Eleven sentences today from Courting the Swan Song (2-1+9=11).
And indeed, the bed was that comfortable. The layers of down were so thick and uncompressed that only clouds could be more airy. The blankets were much the same, thick layers of fur sewn between delicate silken weaves that lay upon his bare skin in a soft, heavy embrace.
Even the room felt warm and dry against the rest of the world, a gently chuckling fire still crackling in the hearth….
Yet all Alanii could think was how Val, Nessad, Vartanian, and the rest of his men had been forced to billet in some empty stalls of the stableyard—not even the billets of the Lanii armsmen, even though he was certain there should be spare beds enough in the barracks hall. Normally his cousin offered those empty cots freely.
The fact he’d not unsettled Alanii. Why? It could only have something to do with the last few days, but despite Alanii’s earlier unease over the unintended insult of staying at the inn for a night rather than announcing himself here, Hirisii had seemed delighted in his personal presence. It had been his guard who suffered. And for all his flaws, Hirisii was not one to torment the servant when he could have infinitely more fun poking the sores of the master.
- Royal bedroom in the Residenz Palace, Munich, Bavaria (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
- English: Horses in a Stable (Photo credit: Wikipedia)