REXANNA
i was born with a knife in one hand
He tells her what her name means in Latin and there’s a bit of surprise that crosses her face at his own translation, the ability of him to know the language too is something she finds surprising yet endearing. “Yes, it does.” She says after a moment, a smile along her face. She had known, when they had brought her to learn the life of the nobles, a language only they could truly translate. But it was wonderful that he knew it too, wondering just how connected languages could be traversed from world to world.
Though of course they had claimed it was the word of the gods. Perhaps it had been people like them, displaced, wonderful, miraculous people.
But he claims that he hopes she will not object, and Rexanna finds it within her to imagine the Harpy doing nothing but snidely quiet remarks from her seat. Still, she nods, a smile tracing her face that grows wider when he reiterates those beautiful words. “Mmm.” She hums, leaning into him more as he wraps his arms around her just enough.
Yet, the temptation of bed is far more tempting, and she bobs her head in agreement, allowing him to help her there — to rest, recharge, fix herself.
Though of course they had claimed it was the word of the gods. Perhaps it had been people like them, displaced, wonderful, miraculous people.
But he claims that he hopes she will not object, and Rexanna finds it within her to imagine the Harpy doing nothing but snidely quiet remarks from her seat. Still, she nods, a smile tracing her face that grows wider when he reiterates those beautiful words. “Mmm.” She hums, leaning into him more as he wraps his arms around her just enough.
Yet, the temptation of bed is far more tempting, and she bobs her head in agreement, allowing him to help her there — to rest, recharge, fix herself.
and a wound in the other
