Jo Warren

@writerjo.bsky.social

189 Followers 168 Following

Writer, educator, mom (of 3 humans and 2 cats), book lover, political junkie, MFA student (?!), collector of craft supplies that occasionally get used, sports fan. My blood type is “caffeinated.”

I let Emma handle the introductions as I dropped into an available chair. Rude, possibly, but I was in no state of mind to introduce Alex to anyone. My mind replayed the scene on the dance floor. The encore was as pleasant as the original performance and I let my mind wander to the possibilities of how Alex’s dance floor prowess could translate to other venues. My mental meanderings were soon interrupted when a hand landed on my shoulder. The hand belonged to Rusty Gaines. The president’s personal assistant, a young man who was always eager to do the commander-in-chief’s bidding at the drop of a hat, stood at my elbow. “Samantha, do you know where Mr. Roth has gotten to?” I raised my eyebrows. “He said he had an event of some kind. Cheryl would know his schedule far better than I do. Have you asked her?”
Though Sybelle had refused ultimately, the offer had only further solidified the relationship between the two families. The connection between Nevaeh and Kessler, forged as young teenagers, held a hint of promise, but Nevaeh wondered if there would ever be something more. Before the destruction of the castle, many of the young girls in Castle City had dreamed of the day they would hold their wedding, with a handsome groom waiting for them at the foot of the castle on the lush lawn. Nevaeh had not grown up with these stories, but she had imagined Kessler waiting there for her. His smile in her dream was only matched by her own as her thoughts wove her very own version of happily-ever-after.
“Seriously?” Georgia asked after the call ended. “Now you can call me Lady Georgia?” “Your official title, for the time, is Her Serene Highness Lady Georgia of the Ducal State of Kalivique, Heir to the Alpenrose Throne. The investiture ceremony in Alpenbloom tomorrow will elevate you to Her Royal Highness Grand Duchess Georgia. This way to the car, please.” Georgia allowed herself to be led to the car—a limo, really. “I suppose there’s no hope of getting you to just call me Georgia?” Anthony allowed himself a smile. “Not at all—Your Highness.”
The woman had no authority over Kessler, Nevaeh knew. Kessler could have ignored Lorel’s pleas and discontinued his studies—no one would have questioned the mayor’s son. But his loyalty to Nevaeh and his appreciation for Lorel led him to slog through the textbooks salvaged from the ruins of the Normal School while Nevaeh did the same. The girl knew without looking that Kessler wore his ever-present backpack on their impromptu hike, and that he carried her treasured books everywhere he went. Nevaeh quickened her steps, knowing they would not have long at the ridge if they dawdled. Despite her illness, Lorel managed tolerably well on her own, but night would arrive within two hours, and with it the danger of scavengers and vagabonds, increasing the danger to all of them, and with it Lorel’s worry. Nevaeh’s mother had taken to her bed, in complete shock after the violent death of her husband six months earlier, and had never fully recovered. The trail had become steep as Nevaeh had wandered through her thoughts, and Kessler offered his hand to help her over a small creek. Often dry, the recent rains had swollen the waters and made the hike treacherous to the unwary. Though she had not seen the trails in months, Lorel knew the land around
Georgia would have slapped him if Anthony hadn't seemed so sincere. “Look, I don’t know your game, but you need to give it up. I’m not royalty. I’m not going with you. I’m going back to work before I lose my job.” That would never happen, Georgia knew, but she had to get away from this Anthony character before losing what she was certain would be the last of her sanity. He was still following her. “That simply won’t do, Your Highness. There is an event tomorrow you must attend in Alpenbloom.” Georgia stopped. “Where on earth is Alpenbloom?” “Heavens, what have they taught you in these schools of yours?” Anthony demanded,
Evelyn stood as though rooted in place as she twisted the jeweled rings on her fingers. “Georgia, it was never meant to be that long. We were certain that once we brought in the far-flung family members, the succession to the monarchy would be stabilized. No one knew your Aunt Penny couldn’t bear children, or that your Aunt Emmeline’s health would decline so rapidly.” “I have an Aunt Emmeline?” Aunt Penny–the Archduchess Penelope–Georgia had at least heard of. Evelyn’s head drooped. “Had,” she said softly. “Your Aunt Emmeline, my older sister, died two years after I returned to court. She would have possibly succeeded your Aunt Penny. At the very least, her children would have. But she was stricken suddenly and died weeks before her wedding. Your Aunt Patty, my younger sister, left court and has never returned. It’s been just me and your Aunt Penny for all these years, trying to keep things going.”
Chelsea’s brow furrowed. “Why would he be in Brighton with Mackenzie? David hates Brighton. Besides, Ella’s at school in Glasgow and won’t be home for the holidays for another two weeks.” “He’s not there to see Ella. Or Brighton” Reality was swiftly crowding in. If David was really in Brighton--and why would Sharon call if he wasn’t--and he was really with Mackenizie . . . “You’re sure about this?” Her voice shook with the question. “You’re absolutely sure? David and . . . Mackenzie?” David had never had much positive to say about Mackenize, the mother of his teenage daughter Ella. Had it all been a cover, or was Sharon on the wrong track here? Surely there had to be some kind of mistake, or a joke for some reality television program, or . . .
Suddenly, he was inspired. “If he had chosen, what sort of man do you think your father would have chosen for you?” The words had barely left Kessler’s mouth when he found himself hoping for an answer, a description that matched him to a T. Though he had long admired Nevaeh, he had never found the courage to speak of it. She had never brought up the subject, and Kessler wondered, not for the first time, if he even had a chance. Nevaeh considered the question for a moment. “Someone kind. A man who would treat me as more than an accessory to his wealth. Someone with wisdom, even if it did not come from education, and who would let me pursue my own dreams.”
I hope you will, though. “Do you remember the first day you came to The Raven? How you said you felt like the shop was almost calling out to you?” Meredith nodded. “I believe it was.” Meredith didn’t respond as Moira expected. She didn’t say anything like, “That’s not possible” or “What’s wrong with you, you crazy old lady?” In fact, Meredith didn’t say anything at all. She simply stood and absorbed what she had been told. Then, Meredith placed her hand on the counter and jumped back in alarm as Moira had done moments earlier. “It’s vibrating,” she said. A pause. “Is it part of the heating system, maybe?” “I don’t think so. The heat hasn’t really turned on yet.” Moira wondered if that was why the heating bills hadn’t gone up in years, and she seemed never to need to touch the thermostat. Is the store taking care of me? Another purr. “So the store is. . . just doing that?”
"Lady Georgia, you will find everything you need in your chamber. If we have overlooked anything, you need only press the call button, and we will be at your service. Until then, we will leave you in privacy. Please let us know if there is anything you need." Georgia thanked the strangely formal man again and closed the door, taking in the sights before her. The bedroom was small, but it held all the essentials--right now, Georgia wanted the bathroom and then the bed. She sank onto the small mattress, which was surprisingly cushy, and allowed her thoughts to roam once more.
Or had he? In a way, they had all changed. There had been no choice. The changes had abounded throughout Elton in the years since the war with neighboring Caldred began. Castle City, the nearest population center to the Caldredian border, had endured multiple battles and, in many ways, still resembled a refugee camp. Nevaeh and Kessler had watched friends and family die in conflicts, in famine, and of formerly treatable illnesses. The dead had numbered in the thousands, Nevaeh had heard over and over in public meetings and on overheard scraps of newscasts, leaving the survivors, numbering only in the hundreds, to sort out what could be salvaged of their previous lives. Many had left. The school had closed when the few surviving teachers abandoned the Elton Normal School, headed to any faraway land where their skills might be valued, and their lives safer and easier. Nevaeh’s mother had insisted she continue her studies at home, determined her daughter would not be uneducated, even if her parents had chosen to explore uncharted lands. Sybelle’s dignified bearing was the result of her wealthy upbringing—a life of privilege she had lost when Caldred claimed bordering lands in Trenar and took with it Calliou’s family estate.
The rest of the morning flew by—Cate never did get the chance to call her boss. The cashier who was supposed to open with her arrived late, and the flurry of activity to get the store’s gate open in time pushed thoughts of anything except taking down the rest of the Mother’s Day goods far from Cate’s mind.
“Not much. President Baker is a man of few words, and he didn’t deem it necessary to waste many of them here. He asked a few questions, clarified a few of the finer points, and has let it alone. Honestly?” I downed another half a glass of wine. “I don’t think he wants to know the details.” “That makes two of us.” “That doesn’t do it for you?” Alex took my glass and set it on the coffee table before kissing me firmly. “Nope. No interest in what that slimeball likes. I’ve got far more interesting ideas.” “Such as?” He stood and pulled me to my feet. “I think this conversation is better pursued in the bedroom.” After another kiss, I wouldn’t have disagreed for the world. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Nevaeh felt beholden and wondered how she would ever repay them; she knew they could little afford the assistance they had offered, which made their sacrifices all the more touching. Nevaeh noticed Kessler’s eyes on her during their walk back to Castle City, but forced her own eyes to remain on their path. All too soon, they had returned to her tumbled-down home, where Kessler bade goodnight to Sybelle and gave Nevaeh a pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the growing darkness toward his own home, only a few dozen yards—yet thousands of miles—away from hers.
A scene describing a barista burning herself while pulling a shot of espresso.
A flame point Siamese cat lays on the back of a gray couch
Georgia explains the difference between Anthony and his assistant Maxwell.
WIP fragment: “A physician is coming back to Castle City?” Nevaeh was appropriately skeptical. The doctors had lingered in the area scarcely longer than the teachers. The hospital had been destroyed early in the conflict, and few wanted to practice their trade in an isolated, desolate environment like their forgotten city.
Georgia, the main character, considers how her Texas accent sticks out in the European nation. of Kavilique
A screenshot of a word processing document. “Papa said Elton was the promised land,” Nevaeh whispered. Kessler moved closer to hear her words but remained silent. “This was to be the reward for the years of struggle and poverty after we left Trenar. Here, a man could have his own land and his pride, without the worry of war.” Her voice was bitter with the irony of her words. “Next year, he said, next year will be the year things turn around.”