Herbalists' Cache hold my cup

star eater does not rise to his joy, nor to his bitterness. she only watches him, calm as the tide before a storm, her expression unreadable.
her gaze drops to the curve of her belly.
the promise of protection. of unity.
the words are quiet but firm, weighted with faith. something she so rarely felt.
it benefits all, blackfell.
her pale eyes flicker back up to his, steady, unwavering. you may not see it now, but you will.
he bristles, but she does not back down. she has never asked for his approval, only his trust. and that, she knows, she still holds—no matter how deeply he buries it beneath scorn and old wounds.