They didn’t speak, just walked with purpose. The ride up to the residential floor was silent but full of unspoken words as their hands twisted and turned in each other’s grasp, stroking and squeezing...you wouldn’t have if you didn’t have a good reason. I trust you. I hope that you’ll tell me the truth when you can. If you can’t, I won’t ask again.” She sighed. “I just thought you ought to know that.

Friday DG emerged from her bedroom after her third good cry of the day, breathing deeply to re-center herself. Part of her missed the disaffected bundle of denial she’d been for the first few...I’m talking about. He grabbed it and let off a blast. People jumped and scattered; he spurred his horse, not bothering to check if Ahamo was following him. I’m coming, sweetheart. As fast as I can.

Author's Note: I know, I know. Everyone's waiting on tenterhooks for the Big Reunion. I'm sure you are all getting very impatient with me. Trust me, I'm not artificially dragging it out. I haven't...could just take the throne unmarried and find her own Consort in her own time, someone she’d fall madly in love with.” He smiled. “Little did I know that’s exactly what she did when she picked you.

Thursday Cain wondered if Mynus was having a good laugh at his expense. Sure, set me on a road and wish me luck. Of course, as you say, I’m resourceful enough to scare up better transportation...would undress each other, touch each other, laugh and sigh and whisper and grapple. It might be rough and fast, or slow and languid, or both, but one thing was sure. This time, it would be real

Author's Note: Since it's a holiday, you get a nice looooooong chapter. Also, there wasn't really a good place to break it up. Wednesday When DG woke, it was out of the first halfways-decent...from her desk and got up. “A man where I come from once said that the world ends when you’re dead, and before then there’s just more punishment to be had, so stand it like a man, and give some back.

Tuesday Nobody brought him breakfast. Or lunch. Or dinner. Cain was back to pacing, his stomach rolling with worry for Jeb, and his friends and co-workers, but mostly for DG. His confidence...a moment, still not quite believing that they hadn’t killed him, and seeing that high-sign again and again. The last time he’d been surprised to see that signal, he’d lost eight years of his life

Author's Note: Okay, everybody calm down! Deep breaths! We're not even halfway through this story, and we've yet to reach the NC17 rating I gave it, so draw your own conclusions. Hang in there. ...to move down the line, but Mrs. Winterset grasped her hand. “It’s not true, you know,” she murmured. “That we never saw your Cain.” “It’s not?” “We saw. We saw it in the way you looked at him.

two nights later… DG was dreaming of Finaqua. Her subconscious seemed to have a special connection to the summery palace; she dreamt of it often, even though she’d only been there once since...buckled beneath her and she slumped with tragic, inexorable grace to the floor until she was sitting there, legs folded and back straight, her head still held high and her blank eyes staring into space

Dinner was a sober gathering that night. The family plus Glitch and Raw usually ate in a small dining room near the kitchen. It was homier, and DG hated formal dining. This night, all anyone could seem...tore the seam open. He withdrew the transmitter, small and lethal. The thought passed between them, but before Cain could do so much as open his mouth to call for an evacuation, all hell broke loose

Everyone was leaving her alone. With each minute, DG alternated between wishing someone would come and talk to her, and being glad they were staying away. She’d walked calmly into the palace after...uniform. “What was that?” Damien said. “Nothing. It’s personal.” “A dispatch is personal?” “The front was a dispatch from the Queen. The back was…” He hesitated. “The back was a note from my wife.