Noctisardor Bypass bloodwine

It seemed his comely blossom had made a name for herself here; as he waited, Xerxes scented his daughter more strongly upon the border. The name was Latin, which caused him some ire — his dealings with the savages from Carthage had been strained at best. Yet he stood quietly, awaiting Paarthurnax's arrival. The concubines shifted restlessly behind him, but their handmaid stood silent. Xerxes had enjoyed the favours offered by the darker of the pair, and her pale counterpart was willing to do the same for her Shah, but stress and anger over what had transpired in Samarkand had caused his lust to flag considerably — he worried for his kingdom, for Nita, for his sons, including Sahrotaar, and for his daughters, who should have been been queens in their own right by now, presiding over their own lands. Sahrotaar would have to be harshly punished; Xerxes had decided that a military foray into the fierce reaches of the peninsula would suffice. There, he would place his son beneath the whim of his most hostile captain, and turn a blind eye to what occurred thereafter. His heart ached at the thought, but he would not tolerate such insubordination from any of those below him, least of all his own flesh. Nita too caused him to fret; she was fierce and beautiful, but Ahura had aged them both, and Xerxes feared that the pregnancy would not move so kindly upon her as it had before. This would be their last litter, the Shah ruled in his mind; he would not have her destroyed by his desire. His daughter appeared, and though the last time the Persian had seen her, she had been softened by an entourage of maidens and lesser wives, she was no less beautiful, no less graceful. Xerxes returned her kiss, regarding her with paternal concern. "گل شن و ماسه من," he murmured, lips curving through the streaks of grey that had come to reside upon his muzzle. "All is well with your mother; she is expecting the last children who will be your sisters and your brothers." While Xerxes was not brisk with his runaway blossom, his tone moved stalwartly toward inquiry, as did the expression in the viridian of his eyes. "Sahrotaar will be punished for what he attempted to do, and he shall never rule in Samarkand again, in any capacity. I am sorry, my Paar, the Shah murmured, ears folding back momentarily against his skull. Muzzle lifted to the air briefly. "You have made a place for yourself here, Paarthurnax. For this I am glad; I had thought you were lost." Yet his words became firmer, though his eyes remained soft with affection. "Your mother, I am sure she would like to know that you are well. Come home, گلبرگ," Xerxes murmured, using one of his pet names for the crimson daughter of Samarkand.