Qeya River star

UGH THESE TWO

she speaks of death, of shame, of hatred buried so deep it has become a part of her. but he has no pity for it. only understanding.

no. easier, perhaps. but not better. not right.

the day he knelt before her comes to mind. his father at his side, swearing oaths of loyalty to her and evenspire’s crown. he had believed in her, once. believed she might bring strength to the north, that she would not falter.

you carry your failures like chains. they do not own you. his head tilts slightly, breath steady and warm as he exhales through his nose. you live. that is the only redemption you need.

but where had she been? when the lords circled him like carrion, when evenspire's envoys came with their demands—she had not stood beside him. and yet, despite it all, he had not wanted this. her broken. her voice reduced to a whisper.

there is no softness to his words, but neither is there cruelty. only truth.

let them have tried. i would have killed them all. every last one. they were not fit to judge you.

his eyes narrow faintly as he speaks, quiet anger simmering beneath the surface. a promise unspoken:

no one would dare harm her again. there had been a time he wanted vengeance. wanted to watch her crumble under the weight of her crown. but now, standing here, he feels none of it. only a quiet need to see her rise again.