The Wolf who Sits the Throne

Roska : Taste of Iron and Blood

Roska applied her weight down onto her bag, trying to force the red furred blanket into it. She stuffed the corners into the tight bag first and then gave another shove, quickly drawing the drawstring tight and tying a hasty knot before it spilled open again. She chucked it onto the floor beside the other bags with a sigh of relief. "I got the damnable thing in! Wooo!"

"I didn't think you could do it." Asdoss brought his chin down to his forearm. He laid hunched over her table, his cards scattered out under his pinned arm. He lingered near her the entire day and she knew he felt sad to see her leave soon. She was always more willing to play cards with him than most everyone else in the castle and she would miss the games and occasional frustration. She would not miss his shrieking duties and procrastination though. That will be solely her father's problem from here on out now.

"Things are going to be quite boring without you. Roscuro's too busy with the council. Myrick is all no nonsense. I have Ronda at least, but she's horrible at Wizards and Dragons." Asdoss lifted his face some, his cheek red from the pressure on his arm. His voice was laden with lethargic rebellion.

"Being gone a couple of years doesn't mean that I can't visit." Roska sighed at him, sliding a card under his arm, "You perk up now. You hear me? I shouldn't be giving the pep talk here."

"Rudolf might have you plowing fields and shoeing horses. No time for visiting."

"Oh shut up." Roska noticed Winifred smiling in the doorway. Leaving Asdoss to his own devices, she came to her handmaiden, "He's hopeless, I know."

"You're doing so much better. How do you feel?" Winifred wiped sweat off her brow with her apron, eyeing the bags on the floor with dread.

"Better actually," Roska smiled, only feeling a dull ache that no longer punched behind the eyes. She had recovered over a week, and while she still felt sore and hard of eating, she was no longer growing faint or vomiting. Her father was still outraged of course and Remus still swore it was an improvement. He claimed women's teeth chip and break more than a man's and thus was needed. Her father had called him out on that excuse, which ended there after Remus smacked him. Roska felt that her grand sire's wrath had tripled over the week, as his glorified pet was leaving and the bastard of his dead wife's infidelity was the one taking her. Roska did well to avoid him at all costs now. "Winifred, you don't need to take these bags down. I'll manage that myself. You're tired."

"Are you certain milady?" The plump woman huffed and slumped over a bit, face more red than ever.

"Absolutely. I can manage and Asdoss can help me." Roska glanced back in his direction, trying to not smirk so much.

"Ugh!" Asdoss threw his head back and put his feet on the table. "How about you play one last game with me and I'll help. Deal?"

"Seriously? You're a grown man, Asdoss. Come on, grab a bag." Roska bent to pick one up and sling it over her shoulder, but her uncle still didn't budge. Instead, he shuffled his cards and glared back at her. He wasn't going to move, she knew. She caved, tossed the bag down and took a seat in front of him, "Winifred, you're dismissed. Meet me down in the courtyard. I have to tend to a child."

Winifred left, giggling and sneaking a bag off with her. Roska sighed and watched him shuffle them yet again. He shifted his position, getting his feet off the table and leaning in more focused, "I assume you'd like to be foxes again?"

"Nope. I'm sick of them." She growled impatiently. Why do you do this to me?

"Dogs then?" He always played dogs and she was certain he didn't want to change it up. She didn't care at this point what they played. He set his deck down and gave a wry smile to her, "Well, I do have another deck that I had made."