His mind was slowly numbing from the rhythmic sounds of snapping stems. He was clipping the tea bushes as he always does in the afternoons, finding the yellowing leaves spotted with illness and snipped away when the little child barged in unannounced.  She was a bewildering existence with her wide, shining eyes, beholding him with … Continue reading Epilogue



She never knew her promise was one-sided. He knocked on her chamber’s door three nights after her coronation. She was confused, then fearful when she find his facade plagued by indecisions and turbulent sorrows. He stepped into the faint radius of her reading light, she closed the door behind them as he paced to the … Continue reading LXXVI.


She woke from a dreamless slumber, refreshed, younger, and as she took in the familiar carved wooden bedsteads, dressing table and patterned arches framing murals she painted over, she could almost pretend that none of her tiresome adventures occurred, that she just woke after a day composed of nothing but music, art, occasionally charged by … Continue reading LXXV.


Horatio is a patient man: he was seasoned in the art of judging how opportune moments present themselves, so his current post should be a suiting one for him. But he wasn’t alone: he was in the company of his unease and an unintelligible fluffball stubbornly anchored on his shoulder, hooting protectively. “Our little Lyra … Continue reading LXXIV.


I am a worthless piece of shit, let’s get that straighten out. I know, write, have no right to wet my eyes or pout Or boast or claim or judge or characterize; Though that’s just to cauterize his cuts, His cuts, juts where the wings were clipped. My daddy put out a show to pay … Continue reading Worth