Falls of the Hinterlands I tried to write your name in the rain

teya shouldered away from him. "you wife."
and that, of course, made her accessory to an affair. she had known it, she had always known it, hadn't she? but the little violet had blissfully ignored it, until one day life dumped the true enormity of leadership onto her flighty little head, and teya had finally been blessed with better sense.
guilt drove her anger now; as much as she had learned, it was still a relief to put the blame onto the shoulders of another;
who better than kynareth? "you married," teya mumbled aloud, more to solidify it to herself than to speak his own truth.
"fuck up," and her eyes blurred with tears of pain, for it hurt her to hear him refer to their passions in so ugly of terms. "am i most recent?"
not only an accessory, but another notch.
the way that he said her name — his wife's name — harassed and harried her back into wrath. simmik. even the sound of it was lovely and cold, jagged ice at the edge of a cliff. how could she hope to compare?
teya whirled upon him, edging away like an injured stoat, hackles rippling. crooking a fore-ankle, the young raven dabbed at the infuriating tears. "you tell wife she do not need to worry now. this is over."
jaw set, chin still atremble, all of her carefully poised, crumbling inside of her own ribcage.
"i keep my word to simmik and nyra, and saints. our agreement. do not worry. brecheliant never part of this."
"neutral," and she wheeled around, walking stiffly away and hoping that kynareth would not pursue.
and yet, of course, she also hoped that he would.