a candle's fire

REXANNA they say that war is hell, but true hell begins when the battle ends — She nodded to Phoebe as she spoke of Emmett not being like that before. It caused Rexanna to feel some kind of roiling anger, boiling in her veins. “I always knew where we stood, but it’s become a bit more evident.” She sighed, but the sharpness of her voice still remained. She looked at Phoebe then, meeting eyes with the girl – having to look up to Phoebe due to the height, and yet Phoebe still seemed so young to her. Rexanna’s own love story hadn’t ended well, but she had always hoped that others had to have those fairytale romances she had heard about, that the people back home and said about her and the Asciend Prince. Perhaps fairytales weren’t true. But Phoebe continued, and Rexanna nodded along with her. A small sigh passing through her lips as she shook her head – her dark hair sweeping over her shoulders, and if Phoebe looked closely she’d notice the dark bruising on her neck and the unmistakable markings of a bite. Her head remained away from Phoebe then, until she spoke further and Rex’s own head snapped back toward her friend with a sharp fiery look in her dark hued eyes. “No. Don’t ever apologize for that, Phoebe. If you had, would you still want to be with him even knowing how he felt? Walking around on eggshells because you’re not wanted there?” After all, Rexanna had experience. She had come in from a rival country, swept away the Prince that the high houses had fought for year after year. And he hadn’t even wanted her either. Her gaze was sharp still as it remained on Phoebe. “Never hide how you feel, what upsets you. It just comes back later to bite you in the ass, trust me.” She almost growled. “There’s someone better out there for you. Someone that you don’t have to be afraid of saying the wrong things to, and who will love you regardless.” She said eventually, that sharpness dying down as she surprisingly thought of Bastien. But she glanced back to Phoebe with a small apologetic smile that almost looked more like a wolf’s grin. “If anything, a boy like that – one that can be influenced so easily, is a child compared to you.” She offered with a small shrug, finding a small rock of debris in the cracks of the bone bridge and tossed it over the edge to watch it be swallowed by the fog. and you're the only one who's hands drip red. the real war rages in your heart; it always has.