Once upon a time, Magnus had gladly forged the alliance between Tephra and Nerine. He had a soft spot in his heart for the descendent of the Amazons, for the sisterhood, and he had struck an easy friendship with Nayl. They had understood one another, perhaps recognized the call of the jungle in the other, and he had gladly clasped arms with them, glad to have found an alliance with the Amazons of new.
But the Nerine of today is different. It does not recognize him, nor him they, and his last visit to the kingdom had been tense. Perhaps such the nature of that had been simply due to an overbearing, distrustful father, but it had left a sour taste in his mouth—something that had only been partially salvaged by the lucky appearance of Scorch and all of the Amazonian sensibility she brought with her.
Still, he has worked over the years on not holding his distaste of one against an entire kingdom—and vice versa, a distaste of a kingdom against each individual—and he lets such thoughts slip away as he watches her with his mild expression. “I had not heard,” he says lightly, his handsome face unfazed by the news. “I never did get a chance to meet the Nerinian Khaleesi,” his lip quirks lightly. “That is what the title is nowadays, is it not?” His mother had never borne the title, but his daughter had.
Regardless, it rolled off his tongue somewhat awkwardly.
“I am to assume you now wear the crown then, Heartfire?” He studies her quietly, finding that she looks like a mare his mother would have respected. Leilan may not have reminded him of the men of the Amazons, and he never did get a chance to meet Breckin, but Heartfire has a similar taste.
“Congratulations are in order then.”
A twitch of scarred lips.
“And condolences for many sleepless nights to come.”
MAGNUS | I don't belong to anyone, but everybody knows my name
@[Heartfire]
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