The Bloom~
King Brynmohr
Twelvestones
Midmoon, 4417
Brynmohr woke to insistent knocking. Sleep had come hard the night before, so the intrusion sent him several notches beyond irritated in an instant.
“Ignore it,” he told the empty pillow and rolled to his side. More knocking ensued, and a voice that always set his teeth on edge began calling his name.
“Glyneth can be up to no good at this hour,” he muttered. “All the more reason to ignore her.”
Jenna’s empty pillow chastened him with its smug silence.
“Oh, all right.” Brynmohr got out of bed and tied on his robe. “No need to get churlish about it.” He flung back his door and glowered at them both.
“What do you want?”
Glyneth had the decency to look startled, but Johanell replied without so much as a blink.
“A few words, Your Ma
