Hello and welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors, the blog hop where writers from a wide variety of genres share from their work in excerpts of ten sentences, with maybe a few more for those of you have the time.
Happy Spring, everyone! The turning of the seasons kind of crept up on me while I wasn’t looking, and Sunday is Easter! How did that happen? I feel like the little bunny coming out of its burrow, cautiously sniffing the air, munching a dandelion or two while wondering where the winter went.
Today I’m sharing from my romantic gay fantasy, tentatively titled Snow. This scene continues directly from last week. Prince Gabriel has returned home on the evening of the festival of the Hunter’s Moon. As he’s swept up into castle life, he remembers how much he dislikes the politics and pomposity.
***
The courtyard buzzed with activity. Tristan had wasted no time disappearing into the great hall. Servants swarmed around their sodden, inebriated lords, guiding them away toward blazing hearths and dry clothing. High above the inner ward, the clock tower, crowning glory of the new residential wing—new meaning built fifty years ago by his grandfather—chimed eight o’clock. Webster had exaggerated. The feast wouldn’t begin for another hour at least.
Gabriel headed for his old rooms and along with Webster, a flock of unfamiliar servants flustered and cooed after them. He supposed he’d been assigned a retinue and was again disappointed that he recognized none of them.
“Oh, sir, I did hear a most alarming rumor that you’d been set upon by a centaur and—”
That’s the official Ten. Here’s a bit more:
Gabriel laughed sharply.
“Five minutes back and the tale has grown taller than the castle walls. I wasn’t set upon by anything.” He knocked a bit of moss from his cuff as he entered a long corridor, muscle memory guiding his feet as his thoughts went hither and yon. The common appetite for myth and magic could both help and hinder the Rosenthal family. Wonder and devotion battled with fear and superstition. In spite of that, the queen had been well loved. Would he be accepted? The people in the town had seemed happy to see him.
“Thank the gods for that,” Webster said. “I set out the pale blue silk your aunt Wren sent for your twentieth birthday. That with—”
“That’s for weddings and parties. I need to look more serious.” He thought of Falkner, dour and intimidating all in black. “Something darker.”
“You’re absolutely correct,” Webster said, “How foolish of me.”
Gabriel doubted if what he wore actually mattered, but he hated anything that hinted at frippery. It was bad enough he’d have to wear a crown. He hadn’t done so in the three years he’d been gone.
***

Blurb in progress for Snow:
Following the death of his mother the Queen, Prince Gabriel returns home for the first time in three years. Gabriel hopes for a reconciliation with his estranged brother, the new king, but all is not well at Castle Rosenthal. King Tristan has fallen under the sway of a mysterious noble woman with a dark past, and all along the border of the Black Forest, magical denizens are on the move. Gabriel begins to fear for his life. Is the handsome huntsman in on a plot to assassinate him, or is there an even darker, more evil power afoot? A forced flight into the Black Forest may expose ancient magic at work, if Gabriel can survive long enough to uncover it.
***
Don’t forget to check out all the awesome snippets at Weekend Writing Warriors!
I love all the reveals about Gabriel’s personality in this snippet, as well as what things used to be like before he left. Fabulous!
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An excellent snippet, lots of subtle backstory, as well as more about the prince himself. Had to smile at the last part, about wearing the crown. I also like Webster – he seems like a useful guy to have around.
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The tale did grow especially tall in a short time. Love the snippet
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Don’t you love rumors??? Not. Good job revealing more about Gabriel.
I forgot to sign up and my post is up. https://dianeburton.blogspot.com/
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I wonder if he’ll catch any grief for not fitting in.
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If this world is anything like ours, they’ll be overanalyzing ever single detail about him, including his clothing choices. Poor guy.
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Tales do have a habit of growing taller the further they travel. Of course, in a world filled with magic, anything is possible.
~Cie from Naughty Netherworld Press~
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