I write sins, not tragedies
Dipping her head from shoulder to shoulder, Wessex certainly looks like she’s agreeing with Sam’s statement. “I can’t do everything,” she says after a moment and it feels like an admittance of failure. Someway. Somehow. She’s failed at being SuPeR dEmI and all that other self-flagellation she heaps unnecessarily upon herself in private. “Unfortunately. Have to do what’s best for everyone, not just my ego.”
Offering a wry smile, Wessex hops off the stone wall and stretches a bit out of habit. “Don’t get me wrong, part of me loves being Queen. The other part… would’ve chosen something vastly different.” An explorer, a hunter, a protector in a different way. Without all the responsibility. Jutting her chin towards the path back to the shops and homes, she indicates she’s heading that way, if he wants to stay with her for a bitand make it a four-page thread.
And if he does, she asks, “Whatever happened to that book you were working on? About the Ascended and the Voice?”
Offering a wry smile, Wessex hops off the stone wall and stretches a bit out of habit. “Don’t get me wrong, part of me loves being Queen. The other part… would’ve chosen something vastly different.” An explorer, a hunter, a protector in a different way. Without all the responsibility. Jutting her chin towards the path back to the shops and homes, she indicates she’s heading that way, if he wants to stay with her for a bit
And if he does, she asks, “Whatever happened to that book you were working on? About the Ascended and the Voice?”
WESSEX
