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Posted

"Now we goes on as friends, I guessin'." Nico sighed, squaring his shoulders. "Hopefully the girls is alright."

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Wendy is totally going to be confronted by Allivia for being too friendly with Nico eventually.

 

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That works, I guess.

Riva had Daku dress her; she was both too tired to put clothes on and too excited about putting her potions away to go back to bed. Once she had a dress on - a nice matte black with poofy sleeves - she ordered her servant to put her dresses away in the closet while she found a decent office space in which to conjure. 

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Riva's dress

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Posted

“Hi. We’re back.” Wendy patted Katie on the head.

”Where were you?” Katie asked through a mouthful of ice cream cone. “And what were ya doing?”

”Clearing the water,” Wendy replied, winking.

“Huh?”

Wendy chuckled and wrapped her arms around the two girls. “Don’t worry about it.”

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I imagine that Katie or Arabella now ships Nico and Wendy.

The room was perfect. 

Riva flagged down a member of castle staff. "You there! Does this room have a lock on it?"

"Uh... no m'am." 

"Well, I suggest you install one, unless you want a place on my table. I intend to use this room as my office space and I don't want any interruptions, understand?"

The woman curtsied. "Yes, Lady Praetorium."

She scoffed at being associated with Caden's surname. She'd much rather be called Lady Raven, but, figuring she might as well get used to it, she held her tongue. 

Office chosen, Riva felt free to go back to her room again. By the time she got there, Daku was long gone. The bed was made, he'd left her a love letter (his affection for her was so obvious it was slightly sickening) and her clothes all neatly put away beside Caden's things in the closet. She tsked; those clothes would have to go. After literally throwing them out of the room, she grabbed the journal and sat down in a chair to try and finish it.

Posted

“Official approval ratings are up by…” the scribe flipped through his ledger, “eight percent. Doesn’t seem like much, but it’s higher than we expected from simply increasing castle staff wages.”

Ivian nodded. “Some unprecedented publicity, I see. I’ll take what I can get.”

“Overall, it seems like the general atmosphere of the palace has improved. Increased productivity, general happiness… the works.”

”Very well.” Ivian tapped his desk. “Is that all?”

”Yessir.”

”Then you’re dismissed.” Ivian waved the scribe away and fell back into his thoughts. It’ll be the city next… after that the hamlets. Step by step, this kingdom will be mine.

Posted (edited)

Acalia had not been Caden’s wife: “My little brother Caden,” proved that much. Riva was presently rather embarrassed to have thought anything otherwise. She had moved to the irresistibly soft bed again, knees up, reading the journal intently. Her read was a certified page turner. Truly quite fascinating. So far, she was only about halfway through the thick tome; though she'd stayed up late last night, her old eyes in the poor nighttime lighting and general fatigue had slowed her reading speed significantly. She expected to finish the journal tonight or early tomorrow. 

Apparently, Papa Praetorium had been quite the psychopath; Acalia frequently skated around mentions of her receiving severe beatings for stepping out of line. The most common offense? Giving love and help to her good little brother whom she loved so very much. Little Caden meanwhile was punished by being worked near to death with intensive military drills. Well, punished was perhaps the wrong word; Papa P felt he was pushing his son to greatness. His wife had passed away giving birth to Caden, so Acalia had stepped in as the matriarch of the home, baking pies for her beloved younger brother, reading fairytales to him, and playing with him when she could. But always over her shoulder was the threat of their father.

In short, the two siblings had an awful home life.

If she was being honest with herself, the journal did make Riva feel bad for Caden; she knew from experience what kind of PTSD an abusive home could offer. Yet at the same time, she knew what her husband was; the type of man who scooted away from her in the carriage, would throw her out the door, and refuse to buy her a dress or accommodate her in any way. Acalia had done her best, yes. But it had not been nearly enough.

Edited by Zephrun's Imperium

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