Well. If his father tried any shit, Kosh could give him a sufficiency of shit in return.
I found something in my news feed that instantly got my back up.
The argument is with the word “stout”
“Everyone will recognise me as a Shaydden. Or a Fitzwyte. If you want to take the canals, then the rest of us will happily ride on your shiny coattails all the way to the shining jewel of the realm.”
“And then what? Just march into the castle like you own it and park in the Blood Throne?”
“The Marchess Cordelia Maripose Heartsalve Bellarin is dead. I am Delia… Gardener.”
“I know you had to have a special saddle because of the tail…? Uh…”
Kosh couldn’t help but laugh. “The privy question? Really?”
I know too darn well that I have a bad habit of giving myself too much to do. I’m managing it bit by bit, and I have to remember one thing. I also need time for myself.
What surprised her was that Bendihollow didn’t have a town center. It was all outskirts.
We, the content creators, are the means of production.
Surely their father wouldn’t be so callous as to leave his son an heir to his own devices.