NaNo day 9

Toujours un peu d’avance et un quatrième chapitre de fini, donc quelques quotes :

Extraits du chapitre 4 : the asylum seeker and the stowaway

I need a plan. I need a plan. I need a plan. Did I say that I needed a plan? It has already been four hours since I have decided to steal the Grail and I still don’t have one.

If I borrow it, since I intend on bringing it back, it should not switch forms. That’s the theory and I have to hope that I am right, because if I have to transport a huge black cauldron, it will really get complicated.

He looks interested, curious. Fatherly. Why does he have to look fatherly? I am trying to betray him, for Earth’s sake!

And now, for the awkward moment of the day, how am I going to go up there and grab the stupid thing? It is not like I could go out and ask Rian—or was it Brian?—for a ladder and I am definitely not moving Arthur’s throne to climb on it like a lowly stool.

And then one day, Arthur, who I had barely even met before that, made me come into the Throne Room with my little brother, and the three of us sat on the ground. He told us that starting from now on, viagra prix france rapide each day we would be nice and calm, he would tell us a story. And believe me, when Arthur Pendragon tells you he wants to tell you a story, you show him how well you behave and you listen.

I of course bartend for Rosa on the evenings—believe it or not, even my crazy plan does not convince her of cutting me some slack. I try to appeal to her inner goodness, but apparently, she does not have one.

There was hate in this last word, but Sion does not hate anyone. He is way too nice for that. He is looking right behind me, so I turn and come face to face with no one else than Mr. Bertram Tolbert. The same Mr. Tolbert I met back in chapter one. The mythology professor who bought a cookbook. Do you think that he is angry with me? I mean, more than Sion? Maybe they should change the phrase. I am not stuck between a rock and a hard place, I am stuck between a furious korrigan who happens to be my little brother and a possibly unhappy customer who thought that a cookbook was actually a magic book. Believe me, that is much more uncomfortable.

What do you say to the human who has followed you into the Sidhe and puts everything you have built until then at risk? Apparently, you—or at least I—say: “You could at least have put winter clothes on.” Okay, not my finest moment.

“You look absolutely gorgeous in that dress,” I say.
She suddenly comes to a halt and a worried look takes over her face. “What do you want, Val?”
“Am I not allowed to tell my beautiful Godmother that she is going to break some hearts tonight?”
“Oh, you are. You just never do it. I will repeat my question and you shall answer it. What do you want?”
Egad. She has seen right through my flawless plan to flatter her into accepting my request. Time to use my plan B: “You know how you always say that you have already met every respectable male Fay in the Sidhe?”
“Yes. But I am not sure that I like where you are going.”
“I brought you a human! He is nice, well-behaved, not bad-looking and you only have to babysit him for a few hours, until I get back.”

Apparently, Sion has calmed down since yesterday and I find him hiding in his cellar, working on his car. One day, I shall tell him the obvious fact: it is already too big to be taken out through the door.
“You have won,” I say. “I shall be the centre of attention in the most ridiculous event this world have known for the last five centuries, in the least.” He smiles largely, but before he can answer, I cut him: “Oh, and our beloved Lady Niamh has taken a liking into the good Mr. Tolbert. Which means that I am seeking asylum for the night.”

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