a candle's fire

REXANNA they say that war is hell, but true hell begins when the battle ends — Rexanna nodded as Phoebe spoke of the gift saving lives. And it could, it could keep so many wrong and terrible things from happening. It likely couldn’t have helped her any, but for others to not have to suffer the way she did, it was a blessing of a gift. And yet, as Phoebe asked if Rexanna knew from experience, she swallowed hard again. Of course she couldn’t keep it entirely a secret, and the way she had answered the statement had lined it up perfectly in a way she couldn’t avoid it without telling her friend later on. She leaned a bit harder on the side of the bone bridge, staring off into the distance seeing as she couldn’t really look at Phoebe while she told the story. It was… a while ago, and she was able to be her bubbly self since then. But the idea of children seemed wonderful, one day, if she had been capable. “I… I do actually.” She said softly, lowering her gaze to the fog that danced beneath the bone bridge. “I told you a lot about my past, but I’ll try to fill in some blanks of it.” She paused, chewing on her lip a bit as she figured out just where to start. “I was married to a Prince of the neighboring country, and things were fine for a time. But my heritage hadn’t been entirely truthful, unknown to me. My own country had taught me that nothing could happen to me if I had a successor for the crown, and we had tried and tried before the truth had come out. And when the truth did, well. I was pregnant.” She said, smiling a bit at the memory. “But my husband had a horrible rage, one that wasn’t quelled or calmed by the idea of having children. And even though I had told him, he had ignored it. I was thrown into the dungeons for nearly a year.” She said, voice growing a bit softer. “That is where I had a son.” For awhile, Rexanna paused after it, after it had left her lips, uncertain how to continue. It wasn’t a fresh pain, it had been one buried deep within and thought about often when she was on the run. “He was a stillborn, though. Just another thing they added into my crimes against the crown. Deemed me unfit, thought I had killed him in anger for being thrown in the dungeon.” It was a dark dark tale, but one that nobody had known here. And one that she had come to terms with; there were certain types of people that couldn’t be reasoned with, couldn’t change. And she had learned the hard way. “It happened a few months before they brought my back to my country to lay siege on my home. And that’s when I ran.” She eventually said, finally looking back over to Phoebe. and you're the only one who's hands drip red. the real war rages in your heart; it always has.