REXANNA
FOR A TIME IT SEEMED TO ME,
THAT WE WERE STARLIGHT-TOUCHED.
FAILING TO REALIZE THAT WE WERE STARCROSSED,
The words hurt as they leave her lips, but she can’t stop them in her frustration and exhaustion – to keep it all packaged in and bowtied as a perfect present of understanding and nonchalance. So she lashes out in the way she knows how, finding some tinge of regret within her at the words as they leave her lips, but not making an effort to try and pull them back. Instead, her gaze drifts back toward the wall, along the sketches and the lines of drying paint, while he mulls them over.And tells her to never say those words again to him. That’s too bad.
She clenches her jaw slightly, fingers itching to do something, to distract herself from taking out her frustration on her husband, but she can’t. Especially when he mentions that he’d keep her in the house if he could, to keep her away from sticking her nose recklessly into danger, and her head whips toward him with a tilt of her head, legs taking her closer to her husband, verdant gaze watching the way he covers his mouth and averts his gaze. “I’m trying to say that sometimes there are things that are unavoidable.” She frowns. “The pumpkin? Happenstance. You weren’t there. Neither with the Mathair. During LongNight, I made a promise to Sam I had to keep to help him understand them.” She doesn’t reach for him, just crosses her arms over her chest. “I retained my magic, plus the magic I had gotten from Loren. I was stronger than you then, Bastien. I couldn’t not help where I could.” But then her frown deepens with the idea of a coffin, gaze growing a bit cold.
“You’ll remember I’ve already mourned you once.” When he'd held his own funeral after the first LongNight. A secret she's kept with her ever since.
THE STARS WERE
NEVER
ON OUR SIDE.
