Qeya River star

star eater watches him, unblinking, unreadable, but her silence is not empty. it is heavy. weighted with something ancient and bitter.
yes.
the word is quiet, but it does not waver.
it was happening beneath my own nose. the coup.
her jaw tightens. it is the first sign of emotion she allows to slip past the iron gate of her control. she does not rise, does not bristle, does not meet his pacing with movement of her own. but her breath comes slower, deeper, measured.
i was lucky they did not kill me there. when i wished to spare the march.
her eyes track him, pacing, coiling, barely restrained. she does not flinch from his words. she lets them settle, lets them breathe. you were not enough.
her tongue presses against the back of her teeth. are you so daft to your own sex to not understand? my rule was a jest before the seven, before all the kingdoms. she would not let it get to her. not when life sweltered inside of her. i do not need your constant reminder for a life i left behind. so please, a short breath as she turned away from him, lowering her head to the ground and wrapping her tail above her snout. her eyes burned. salt dripped from her cheeks.
do not crucify me for my past mistakes. as i do not do it to you.