Tuesday Tales: Writing Gown

Welcome to Tuesday Tales, a weekly blog featuring diverse authors posting excerpts from their works in progress based on word and picture prompts. I’m pleased you stopped by today. For this week’s picture prompt I chose a gorgeous gown. My snippet is from a medieval romance featuring a knight and a lady caught in times of turmoil and war. I’m excited to work in my favorite reading genre. Enjoy the other authors at Tuesday Tales.

With careless abandon, Alis tossed a great bundle of clothes onto the bed. Having emptied half the floor chest, she rummaged around for the rosary hidden inside a square of lavender scented lace and linen.

She looked up to see Agnes gesturing as if to the heavens. “Ach, child, have a care. Your finest golden gown will be sorely wrinkled at this rate.”

Secreting her mother’s rosary inside her bodice, Alis pivoted with a flounce. “What care I about fine gowns or anything for that matter, when my father will send me away for no good reason? Shall I parade around as my simpering cousins? I have no patience for their temperaments. You may recall they do little more than play dress up to pass the time.”

The good servant and lifelong friend replied a bit breathlessly, as she energetically refolded clothes. “Mayhap they have hopes of marrying well, growing a family. It is a common wish for a young woman, my dear. Marriage is certainly nothing to fear.”

Her foot stomped before Alis could hold back the gesture. “I do not fear it. I simply do not see the necessity. My father needs me here. What– would the husband you are always dreaming up move in here as well?”

“Why not? It is certainly not unheard of in cases such as yours, an only daughter with distant male cousins.”

Alis’ mouth fell open. “B-but—Father never mentioned that, when he petitioned for the decrepit Buist. If he had…”

“You would have accepted Buist?”

Shuddering, Alis shook her head. “Certainly not.”

“Did you ever consider, child, that your father threw out the name of Buist to soften you for a true choice?”

Alis was so taken aback that she could do nothing but sit down. It had never occurred to her. Not even once. How was that possible? No one knew her better than her father, and his prowess with the challenging game of rooks and pawns was formidable.

Just then a commotion sounded in the hall. The door was flung open. “We are under attack. Your father sends his man to you momentarily. He says lock the door and await the coded word.”

Agnes turned as pale as death, and her hand slapped her chest.

I hope you enjoyed the snippet based on the picture prompt gown. Thanks for stopping by. Return to Tuesday Tales.

Cheers & Happy Reading!

Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic in Romance

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