Here's the sequel to The Girl History Forgot. It's pretty short (there's only about 7 chapters) but I really enjoyed writing it and I hope that everyone enjoys reading it!
Journal of Rosto the Piper, King of the Court of the Rogue, Year of 252
July 14
Beka has been by again. She keeps questioning my involvement in the current problem plaguing the kennels of Corus, despite my constant denial. After seeing how a similar product affected the Scanran court of the rogue, how it divided and destroyed families and ruined the health of the community, I vowed that I would never have any dealings with those sorts of products. Entire countries have been destroyed by these products. They may be profitable but the price is too great.
Unbeknownst to the dogs, I've been trying to weed out the ringleaders but as soon as one of them is gone, another takes control. I wish the problem would just go away, sooner rather than later, but I know from past accounts that my wish is foolish. This problem won't disappear as easily as it sprang up. If we had caught it earlier, it might have been possible, but now it's too late.
Journal of Valeska, first queen of the Court of the Rogue, year of 158
September 20
I had hoped that since leaving that kennel of dogs that I would never have to work with them again. It's always been an unthinkable idea, the court of the rogue and the guards working together. Rats working with dogs instead of being hunted by them.
It's all very well to lure disparaged recruits that didn't make the cut and guards that have been disillusioned from years of working on the streets. There's always been a thin line between the two, a line that many have crossed including me. Still, the court of the rogue has done their best in the past to avoid working with the guards. It would be a death sentence for the king.
Or queen, I suppose.
I can't waste my time on the killings that have been happening. So far none of them have been members of my court and I have other problems to deal with. There's some in my court that are trying to start up an operation without my permission. It can't be allowed. I fought my way into this position and I intend to stay here for years to come. I can't allow dissenters. I can't jeopardize my position.
So I need to take care of this problem before it grows any larger and the dogs come knocking on my door, blaming me for the destruction it will cause. Thankfully it can be summed up in one word. A word that was found pinned to my door this morning with a knife.
Vekoslav.
That reminds me. I should probably find a new place to sleep from now on.