REXANNA
paint my spirit gold
It wasn’t her intention to worry him in her pause, but she had noticed the chemistry. The way his eyes lingered just a bit longer on her own, the way their kisses had held something a bit deeper in each and every one. And of course, the intimacy of the bite she had showed to him, an intimacy she didn’t know was possible until then. But the smile on his face when she said yes made it worth it, made her own smile reflect on her face in a heart swelling amount of joy. But she would be lying to herself if she didn’t realize that it scared her. It wasn’t like they had rushed into it, it wasn’t like when Alistair had confessed his own feelings and she had turned him down (she’d honestly only known the man a few weeks at that time and lately hadn’t seen him since). Bastien and her had some shared history.Some shared tales of heroics, of secrets, of quiet moments hidden away in a broom closet of the Rathskeller when death dwelled outside the doors. And despite her fear of it all, it felt nice and calm and right. But she had to tell him of what her husband had done to her, and perhaps one day a bit more of a detailed, entire story of what happened to her. Perhaps she might even be able to tell Bastien of the child she had before that never took its first breath. She hadn’t told anyone that yet, finding it a bit too dark, too deep, to ashamed of it to bring it up. But now was not the time and she wasn’t sure if there would ever be a good time. And she let the thought fade from her mind as she finished her tale of her story, of chains and dark dungeons and a hot iron brand scalding and scarring her collarbone. Of the darkness and isolation, of years on the run and seeing her city, her castle, her birthright crumble.
But here was to new beginnings.
Bastien had taken her hand and held it lovingly, and she squeezed his hand gently in response to his calming words, the accented voice, and his soft smile. He was right, it wouldn’t be like before. She wasn’t a naive child like she was before. She had the power over her person and not the deafening words of a country behind her trying to make it work, trying to survive. Her eyes flickered from their hands to his eyes as he continued to speak, talking of his own experience and how it had been similar to her own after she had ran, and she nodded with a soft smile playing on her lips. But then she stood, and moved to where he sat, bending over to plant a kiss on his temple while her hand still remained in his. “Let’s give this a go, then. Figure it out together?” She said with that same smile tugging on her lips. And for once, despite the world around them pointing fingers at each other, she felt happy for herself. And what a rare feeling it was.
