Qeya River do i wanna know?

her breath stutters, shallow and uneven, her body betraying her even as she wills herself to steel.
i am morwenna to you, she murmurs, voice edged in something raw, something fragile, something that only he had ever seen. no others.
her name. her true name. not the one sun eater calls her in the dark, not the one whispered in reverence or obedience—but the one that belongs to her. the one that belongs to him.
her head tilts, and before she can think, before she can stop herself, her forehead brushes his—featherlight, barely there, yet everything.
a breath.
perhaps you should not.
her eyes flicker shut for only a moment, the weight of all they have lost pressing between them like a phantom. her voice is but a whisper now, soft as falling snow.
leave me again at your own peril.
and she means it. gods help her, she means it.
a queen does not indulge in folly.