REXANNA
i was born with a knife in one hand
She snorts with him, nodding along as though it made sense. And in a way, it did – something so few knew kept loose lips from revealing the secrets. Though there was a part of her that wondered why she wasn’t a part of the secret, for the time she was a high enough rank likely to know. But she doesn’t say anything, the past is the past and it remains there – along with her mistakes, her terrible choices, her betrayals. And she looks to her friend, with a certain attachment in her gaze that nearly threatens to suffocate the hues of her blues – so similar to his own. Born worlds apart, to come together once more.
Souls and bodies born from the mountains they had found refuge in.
And she quirks a brow to him when he tells her, Sacre, a man she had never met but she had heard of. It isn’t until he mentions the name of the father that it makes some form of sense, and her brow furrows briefly before she shrugs. “I never had the pleasure, I don’t think.” She says honestly, her thoughts muddled on it the more she lingers on it. But she still raises her glass to Deimos with a wicked gleam to her smile as she regards him once more. “For being a successful king.” She says to him, cheering him before taking another sip and humming a quiet laugh to herself.
“I have another thing to ask of you, related in a way to Helovia.” She mentions with a light tilt of her head, setting the glass down to reach into her pocket and pull out her golden ring with scarlet stones – like her fireworks trapped in stone. “I am… Getting married in Deepfrost.” She lets her gaze linger on the stones before she reaches over toward him to offer the ring to him should he wish to inspect – to see the love and care that went into the design, to see that perhaps the man she’s chosen to be with had already proven better than Tembovu once had.
“And I was wondering if maybe you wanted to be the one to give me away?” Her eyes flick up to his face, hoping for a glimpse of surprise, of questions, of the refusal. She hoped he said yes. That the man she considered a brother, as close as anyone could be to her, knowing her past and her present, would want to be a part of such a thing. She also wondered if he knew who Bastien even was, aside from what she had told him. But the smile on her face gleamed true happiness and the best feeling she’d ever had. At least this way, he’d be a part of it – to know she wouldn’t be whisked away into the night, to become something more than just a child bearer for a man who couldn’t keep his lineage with one person.
Souls and bodies born from the mountains they had found refuge in.
And she quirks a brow to him when he tells her, Sacre, a man she had never met but she had heard of. It isn’t until he mentions the name of the father that it makes some form of sense, and her brow furrows briefly before she shrugs. “I never had the pleasure, I don’t think.” She says honestly, her thoughts muddled on it the more she lingers on it. But she still raises her glass to Deimos with a wicked gleam to her smile as she regards him once more. “For being a successful king.” She says to him, cheering him before taking another sip and humming a quiet laugh to herself.
“I have another thing to ask of you, related in a way to Helovia.” She mentions with a light tilt of her head, setting the glass down to reach into her pocket and pull out her golden ring with scarlet stones – like her fireworks trapped in stone. “I am… Getting married in Deepfrost.” She lets her gaze linger on the stones before she reaches over toward him to offer the ring to him should he wish to inspect – to see the love and care that went into the design, to see that perhaps the man she’s chosen to be with had already proven better than Tembovu once had.
“And I was wondering if maybe you wanted to be the one to give me away?” Her eyes flick up to his face, hoping for a glimpse of surprise, of questions, of the refusal. She hoped he said yes. That the man she considered a brother, as close as anyone could be to her, knowing her past and her present, would want to be a part of such a thing. She also wondered if he knew who Bastien even was, aside from what she had told him. But the smile on her face gleamed true happiness and the best feeling she’d ever had. At least this way, he’d be a part of it – to know she wouldn’t be whisked away into the night, to become something more than just a child bearer for a man who couldn’t keep his lineage with one person.
and a wound in the other
