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Grilled Cheese is a product of Village Compute

Version devBuilt at: 2026-10-11 02:37:10 EDT

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@meredithpraed.bsky.social Sep 26, 2026, 9:08 PM

Marvin asks where the line is, in my WIP - the third book in The Future King series, Pendragon #AmWriting #WIPSnips #BookSky #KingArthur #ArthurianLiterature #YA #Fantasy #Merlln #Arthur #WritingCommunity #Editing

‘You’re going to accept, aren’t you? You wouldn’t be telling me all this if you hadn’t already decided, Arthur.’ Marvin’s grey eyes were stormy under the cerulean sky. ‘You could quit your library job and would have more time to do your homework.’ His eyebrow quirked. ‘Don’t look so surprised. I understand the appeal. I also know you’re aware of the downsides. New National will never stop offering things that are too good to refuse. A promotion, a raise, or even a university scholarship. Will you have reason enough to say no then?’ Arthur pursed his lips, knowing that every word Marvin said was true. ‘It’s been a long summer; a lot’s changed. But consider this.’ Facing him, Marvin stopped by the corner of the sports hall. ‘As time passes, and New National entangles you further, will you still know how to look for the line?’
Arthur stood rooted to the spot as Marvin set off again, his hands loosely hooked behind his back. When Marvin realised he wasn’t being followed, he turned to observe Arthur with a frown.
‘It’s your choice, Arthur. You’re seventeen now. May as well start making your own decisions and stop relying on me to tell you what to do.’
‘I don’t rely on you to tell me what to do,’ Arthur said, affronted. ‘But,’ he added with a smile, ‘I do value your opinion.’
Marvin observed him steadily. ‘Remember then, that the more you entangle yourself with New National, the harder it will be for their opposers to separate you from them. New National won’t be here forever. Not if I have anything to do with it.’
Arthur gazed after Marvin as he turned his back then continued his patrol of the school grounds, their discussion over.

@meredithpraed.bsky.social Sep 7, 2026, 12:12 PM

Not done one of these for a while. Only one occurrence of "elevator" in my WIP. Spoilers! #TheFutureKing #Pendragon #KingArthur #ArthurianLiterature #Dystopian #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #BookSky

Gwenhwyfar turned her back on Victoria’s satisfied expression and strode down the corridor. As the Watchman trailed behind her, Victoria’s words thumped her in the chest—Richard. Dead. And his wife, and his daughter—the daughter who had prompted him to show Isolde mercy, who had perhaps been the root of Richard’s empathy towards her. The tears that sprang to Gwenhwyfar’s eyes were unexpected, but by the time they stepped into the elevator she had blinked them away. Then she and her escort were upstairs in reception, and she got her mobile phone back—suspiciously unchanged. Now she had to get a new one.
A policeman drove her home. While in the car she almost messaged Arthur to tell him where she’d been, but then she remembered they weren’t doing that anymore, and was left with a profound feeling of loss. By the time she walked through the front door and into the Swans’ dining room, Melissa, Grace, George and their remaining refugee family were eating dinner.
‘Gwen,’ Melissa said, eyes wide. ‘Everything all right?’
Up until that moment she had been certain she would tell them. Now, however, there seemed little point. ‘Sorry I’m late, I was at Emily’s and forgot to charge my phone.’
Melissa was already on her feet. ‘Are you eating? I made you a plate.’
Nodding gratefully, Gwenhwyfar dumped her bag in the corner and followed her aunt into the kitchen. She hovered while Melissa retrieved her supper from the fridge. ‘How long do we leave it?’ she asked. ‘Until we say my mother’s probably dead?’
Melissa set the dinner plate on the kitchen counter. ‘Forever. We don’t give up hope, Gwen. Not until she’s found.’
‘But everyone else who’s missing is presumed to be…’ Dead. ‘And statistically speaking, it’s likely that she’s…’ Dead. She swallowed the words. ‘Is there anything else we can do?’