i am the violence in the pouring rain
i am a hurricaneThere is so much the two do not know about each other. But she is no fool. She keeps company with monsters and demons and corpses. She never underestimates what they are capable of, never believes for a second that they won’t turn on her when the moment is right. Of course they will. Perhaps for her crown. For now, the world seems content to let her keep it, but she knows if she takes the war one step too far, if she antagonizes one wrong person, it will no longer be hers. Perhaps, like Kingslay, because she simply looks like food.
In the end, the reason doesn’t matter. In the end, she simply needs to keep the upper hand.
Being quick and clever often gives her the tools she needs. Her ravens give her knowledge no one else can have, they give her power to keep fighting, they give others reasons to leave her be. But her deepest secret is the real weapon, the upper hand on almost anyone. See, she can simply stop your heart. It’s terribly hard to kill someone when your heart no longer beats.
There’s a reason no one knows this. Not her kingdom. Not her son. Not Weed. Not even Oksana.
But of course, she almost always has the upper hand. She has more bargaining chips then Kingslay alone, though Eight might simply want the fiery boy as his own toy. It’s entirely possible, though in the end, it doesn’t matter to Straia. Eight and her were on the same side. “He’s in the Valley,” she says after her breaths the name into her ear. “He’ll come when you call. You might do better without me, but I’ll come if that proves to be wrong.”
On cue, one of the fire ravens flies low, hovering near Kingslay. It would follow, and she would know if she was needed.
straia
the raven queen of the chamber
