Photo credit: Spencer Means
“I don’t believe you have met my latest musician, dear,” Adaraenar’s wife purred, waving toward a ludicrously handsome young man.
Wearing yellow silks. She was already dressing him.
At least this “latest” had the decency to gulp nervously while bowing to his taen.
“No, but I’ve heard he’s… good.” Adaraenar narrowed his eyes, but his wife feigned ignorance. “In fact, he’d be perfect for my sister’s court. She’s agreed to trade him for Harrendar. Such an excellent, experienced bard.”
Reliable, portly, old Harrendar. The man would look ghastly in yellow.
“You may leave now,” Adaraenar pronounced.
The musician practically ran.
Inspired by Sammi Cox’s Month of Mini Writing Challenges. Please come join in! I’m doing them out of order, you can too. This is for Day 8 – Write a story in less than 100 words (a drabble) using the opening line: “I don’t believe you.”