Lost Creek Hollow excessum

"don't," silvertongue shakily exhaled as crowfeather made mention of our children. ours, when he did not love her as she did him; ours, when he had turned away from her that night; ours; "i will come to you, wren," she managed, capitulating to crowfeather's command even as she wished to sink to his very feet and beg that he turn his anger away; what had he wished for her to say? how could he feel rage for her now? silvertongue's world had flaked into bits of bitter paint, shattering toward near hyperventilation as she felt some horrible chasm open between she and her prince. i did not speak because your happiness meant more to me than mine. unsaid, dissolving instead beneath harrowed hoarse sobbing as she hung her wretched head. his eyes were already for germanicus once more, and silvertongue felt that final taking in a dart of hot fire beneath her ribcage. this night all had been stolen from her, and with the anguished love burned a poisonous, murdering ire for the soldier who had robbed her of everything she had ever built, her mouth still stained with his blood.