This is the second time in a row that I’ve actually posted a WIPpet ON Wednesday that corresponds to the date. I should get some sort of prize or something. The secret, it turns out, is scheduling these posts in advance. Who would have thought I could actually be so organised?! Of course, none of this (not even my usually late posts) would be possible without the wonderful Emily Witt, who leaves us our linky thingy even though she’s always so busy. If you haven’t already joined us, you really should. We’re all great.
As an extra special bonus, I actually have a LONG WIPpet today. I’m sure I’ll be back to my usual one line annoyance before long, but not today. Today I have 6 paragraphs for the 6th month. Easy peasy WIPpet math.
“You should be celebrating.”
Kora glanced up from the heavy tome she was flicking through, the voice startling her from her concentration. Her wine goblet was balanced somewhat precariously on top of the smaller stack of books on the edge of the desk, already half empty. The candle opposite the goblet had burnt down more than she’d expected, and she wondered how much time had passed since she’d left the ballroom. She’d been playing carelessly with the small dish of water built into the centre of the desk, making droplets writhe and dance above the surface as she’d read. Now, they dropped back into the bowl obediently, settling almost instantly. Kiwan stood in front of her, his large, weathered hands resting against the desk. The lines around his deep blue eyes deepened as he smiled at her. “Mira gave you the night off, remember?’
“I know.” Kora returned her attention to the runes in from of her, faded sightly from years of use. She recognised almost all of them, but a few were little more than illegible scrawls. There was still so much to learn, so much to master. She needed more time, but the coronation day had arrived, Mira was Empress, and she had run out of time. “I’m studying.” She added after a moment, when Kiwan didn’t move.
“I can see that.” He pulled the book gently away from her, ignoring her protest. “Which is why I said you should be celebrating.” He gestured at her dress. Tumbling pleats of glimmering blue fabric wrapped around her figure, secured at her neck by slinking golden chains, and cinched at her waist by a thick white ribbon. “That’s hardly an outfit for studying.”
Kora examined the dress. Kiwan was right, of course. It was made for dancing and feasting and laughing, not for the solitude of the library and ancient runes. She had wanted to keep on her ceremonial armour, comfortable at least in the teal plates and pale chainmail. Mira, of course, had disagreed, and insisted she wear a dress. She shrugged. “I’m sure Mira is doing enough socialising for the both of us.”
A frown flickered across Kiwan’s face. “Mmm.” He smiled again, noticing Kora’s concerned expression. “She was always the wild one. Sneaking off when you two were supposed to be studying, trying to steal ponies from the stables to ride off on adventures, though only the Goddesses know how she actually managed to get to the mainland.” He chuckled. “Once she made it out of Albataal before we’d noticed. It took me most of the evening to find her, and you know where she was? Eating dinner on the head table in one of the taverns near the Fork, bossing around the innkeeper and his poor wife. She made such a fuss when I came to take her home, and she insisted on riding my horse back.” He shook his head, still chuckling at the memory. Kiwan’s laughed died slowly away, and his regarded her with serious, kind eyes. “Regardless of Mira’s social skills, you should still enjoy your night off. They don’t come around all that often these days.” His gaze shifted to the pendant dangling on the outside of her dress, reaching to just above her waist. The frown returned, and his voice softened. “Enjoy yourself while you still can, Kyra.”