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Having been captured by Prince Amer's men, Salia and the knights of Vallor escape into the Mistmoor forest, where they raise little Moirin in secret while planning thier eventaul escape to the Far Shore. As Moirin grows supernaturally fast, Fara and Kamryn fumble through "fathering" her, while Salia watches on and worries that her daughter will one day have to leave her to train her magick. Don't miss the fourth installment of this lesbian harem romance series!
--
A second later, and the tent flap was ripped aside to reveal Salia, who stood silhouetted against the sunlight. Her golden hair was a tousled mess, and one of the sleeves of her gown had been ripped down, revealing the soft skin of her arm. She was holding a sword in one hand, and the blade was glistening red. Moirin peered around her mother's skirts at the twins, looking oddly calm given everything that was happening.
One of the men scowled. "What is happening, woman?" he demanded of Salia. "Is the camp under attack?"
"Yes," said Salia darkly.
"By who?" demanded the other guard.
"By me," Salia answered and hurled the sword. It whistled through the air, spinning around and taking the heads of both men off - muting their cries of shock - before spinning back to Salia, who caught it expertly and returned to fight stance.
Kamryn and Fara had stiffened under the splash of blood, and now they knelt in awe of Salia, mouths open.
--
"Then it's settled," said Salia haughtily. "Kamryn, you are in charge of Moirin's education regarding human history, and Fara, you are in charge of Moirin's education regarding elven history."
"Yes, my princess," chorused Kamryn and Fara, though Kamryn spoke the words unenthusiastically: she hated lessons and had never fancied herself a tutor. She hadn't the patience to learn let alone teach.
"And what shall you teach me, Mother?" Moirin asked eagerly.
"I shall teach you the history of our great house," said Salia, proudly lifting her chin. "You are the last in a long line of many great women!"
Hearing Salia's words, Moirin's eyes practically glowed with wonder, and Kamryn thought she seemed excited about the prospect of learning about the world. The poor child didn't know what school actually was. It was little more than endless writing and reading and listening to long, boring lectures in dark, musty rooms lit by candlelight. Salia had just commanded them all to enter the gates of Hell, and Moirin was soon to learn the truth after innocently skipping inside. Then again, perhaps Moirin, being the child of a death goddess, wouldn't mind schooling either. She enjoyed watching people get beheaded, after all.
--
They found a rickshaw to carry them that was pulled by a centaur. Moirin had never before seen a centaur and gawped at the half-woman with her mouth open. The centaur was wearing a golden breastplate over her breasts, but her midriff was bare, and they could see where her soft skin ended and the tawny golden fur began as it smoothed into her lower half. She had wild golden hair and bright, fierce eyes, and she looked at them with cold indifference, unsmiling as they approached. Her arms were quite muscular from pulling the rickshaw.
"Five crowns for the lot of you, no more, no less," the centaur roughly said before they'd opened their mouths.
--
A second later, and the tent flap was ripped aside to reveal Salia, who stood silhouetted against the sunlight. Her golden hair was a tousled mess, and one of the sleeves of her gown had been ripped down, revealing the soft skin of her arm. She was holding a sword in one hand, and the blade was glistening red. Moirin peered around her mother's skirts at the twins, looking oddly calm given everything that was happening.
One of the men scowled. "What is happening, woman?" he demanded of Salia. "Is the camp under attack?"
"Yes," said Salia darkly.
"By who?" demanded the other guard.
"By me," Salia answered and hurled the sword. It whistled through the air, spinning around and taking the heads of both men off - muting their cries of shock - before spinning back to Salia, who caught it expertly and returned to fight stance.
Kamryn and Fara had stiffened under the splash of blood, and now they knelt in awe of Salia, mouths open.
--
"Then it's settled," said Salia haughtily. "Kamryn, you are in charge of Moirin's education regarding human history, and Fara, you are in charge of Moirin's education regarding elven history."
"Yes, my princess," chorused Kamryn and Fara, though Kamryn spoke the words unenthusiastically: she hated lessons and had never fancied herself a tutor. She hadn't the patience to learn let alone teach.
"And what shall you teach me, Mother?" Moirin asked eagerly.
"I shall teach you the history of our great house," said Salia, proudly lifting her chin. "You are the last in a long line of many great women!"
Hearing Salia's words, Moirin's eyes practically glowed with wonder, and Kamryn thought she seemed excited about the prospect of learning about the world. The poor child didn't know what school actually was. It was little more than endless writing and reading and listening to long, boring lectures in dark, musty rooms lit by candlelight. Salia had just commanded them all to enter the gates of Hell, and Moirin was soon to learn the truth after innocently skipping inside. Then again, perhaps Moirin, being the child of a death goddess, wouldn't mind schooling either. She enjoyed watching people get beheaded, after all.
--
They found a rickshaw to carry them that was pulled by a centaur. Moirin had never before seen a centaur and gawped at the half-woman with her mouth open. The centaur was wearing a golden breastplate over her breasts, but her midriff was bare, and they could see where her soft skin ended and the tawny golden fur began as it smoothed into her lower half. She had wild golden hair and bright, fierce eyes, and she looked at them with cold indifference, unsmiling as they approached. Her arms were quite muscular from pulling the rickshaw.
"Five crowns for the lot of you, no more, no less," the centaur roughly said before they'd opened their mouths.
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