Sunday means I’m participating in the Weekend Writing Warrior, a weekly blog event during which writers share 8 sentences of one of their projects. You should check out the others right here: http://www.wewriwa.com/. I share this post with the Snippet Sunday Facebook group, which you can find here.
I’m hard at work editing my steampunk novel, Oil and Boiling Water, for a new round of queries, and since you seemed to enjoy last week’s 8, we’ll pick up where we left off.
After an apprentice stole schematics from Tatiana and slammed the University’s door shut in her face, a guard voiced his doubts about her ability to handle calculus.
“Is that the class you repeatedly failed?” I said. The coming storm had cleansed the streets of scandalmongers, so I had no qualms about venting some frustration.
The drizzle ramped up to a downpour that drummed on the slate roofs, covering whatever the guard mumbled. The slant of his brow left no doubt that I had struck a nerve; the University’s guard was mostly comprised of third-born noblemen who didn’t learn fast enough. In all fairness, he had attacked my ego first.
“Hurry back to your fiancé, my Lady,” he yelled over the din. “You’ll come closer to University by delivering your son at our doors.”
That smarted a lot, and I gritted my teeth against the insult that came to my mind, refusing to give him the pleasure of devolving into hysterics.
Comments and critiques are welcomed!