05-07-2016, 07:09 PM
A kiss is not a contract
What a waste of her time. Archam had stolen her, hurrah. Now what? She would sit here, legs deep in muddy water surrounded by his no doubt equally as bored herdmares for a stinking year. A whole, sopping, boring year. A year was a long time, plenty could happen. She could give birth - who was to say she wasn’t already with child? She could escape, if she wished it. But Besra is not a coward, nor is she with child, so her choices are limited.
She will stay and she will muddy her feet, because that’s what she had chosen from the first day she strode into the Field. Oddly enough, that was the exact place she’d met Archam, the spotted bay brute as charming then as he was to her now. He was smooth with his tongue, but every silver sword is double-edged. It was false, all of it, and she doubted that Archam had a single sincere bone in his body. She hopes he’s around here somewhere.
“Come out, come out …” She whispers, treading lightly through the running water of his lands, “Wherever you are.”
She will stay and she will muddy her feet, because that’s what she had chosen from the first day she strode into the Field. Oddly enough, that was the exact place she’d met Archam, the spotted bay brute as charming then as he was to her now. He was smooth with his tongue, but every silver sword is double-edged. It was false, all of it, and she doubted that Archam had a single sincere bone in his body. She hopes he’s around here somewhere.
“Come out, come out …” She whispers, treading lightly through the running water of his lands, “Wherever you are.”