Lord Mettlebright’s Man
Claimer: I do hereby claim all rights and responsibility for the characters in this series of vignettes because the Amaranthine Saga is mine. (Which means I should probably behave myself since anything I say or do could be taken as canon.) Indulge the lot of us, especially the one who grew up in France.
Chapter Twenty-One: Chastisement
When Jacques revived, he wasn’t in his own bed—mattress too soft, sheets too rough, and musky with a scent that hadn’t come from a bottle.
“Swooning, Smythe?” Argent perched near the foot of the bed, burping the baby who’d drained his bottle. “You really are too fond of drama. A butler must not swoon.”
“Yes, my lord.” Jacques clutched at the covers. “But… dragons are coming.”
“Tsk. What color are Kyrie’s eyes?”
“A fine merlot. Or perhaps a syrah.”
Argent’s lips twitched. “If you meet a dragon with eyes of the same vintage, you have my permission to swoon.”
Posted: October 21, 2018
Prompt: #Inktober2018, Day Twenty-One: Drain
Words: 100
Summary: Jacques Smythe brazens his way into Stately House and shows no sign of departing. Like it or not, Lord Mettlebright has himself a butler. An Amaranthine Saga Serial. [Humor, Drama, Family] Begins here. To scroll through archived chapters, use the Lord Mettlebright’s Man tag.
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There! You see…beware of dragons with red eyes! Then you can faint
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Ohhhh that wine-use fit seamlessly with everything and everyone!
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