Sleeping Dragon you married an icarus, he has flown too close to the sun

It seemed the moment lasted a lifetime; Snacha remained kneeling before Gyda for a long time, breathing in her scent, basking in her presence, before she was finally spoken to. The girl looked up briefly, acknowledging the queen's presence, before looking away again. "Aye, I know a little. My mother taught me how to fis op. How to heal, you would say." Snacha then fell silent, not knowing what to say. It was not her place to prattle on and on about things, since she had not been spoken to again. She was a second; if her thoughts were to be known, Thuringwethil would ask for it, and Snacha would oblige. For now she would remain silent and observe the two women, and try to control the fluttering of her heart in her chest.

She had felt this way once before, but had thought it was simply adrenaline rushing through her body that made her stomach tie in knots. She still didn't truly understand what the fluttering meant, but Snacha did know that Gyda was a goddess, a beauty none could match, and though she was sworn as Thuring's second, she would do whatever Gyda asked of her -- as long as it did not interfere with her duties.