05-16-2016, 10:55 AM
A kiss is not a contract
Even as the words slip out of her mouth she wants to take them back. The champagne mare’s words ring in her ears - what has she done? Her tail flicks irritably, body swinging around so that she can face the mouthy female with a hostile glare. Enough was enough. “My daughter will no doubt be as strong, if not stronger, than me. I think she’ll be able to weather the tides of diplomacy just fine, thank you.” Besra growls, stepping forward to lessen the distance between them. “At two, she’ll be nearly grown and Phaedrus certainly won’t be able to breed with her - so what better way to show strength between our herds than to join them?” She questions, head swinging over her shoulder to gaze at Archam with a pointed look.
He knows what she’s talking about. Phaedrus wouldn’t touch a herd that his own daughter called home, and Archam wouldn’t dare go against his word, so this exchange kept both communities of mares safe from the fate Besra now suffered. It was a win-win, and if the new mother could think on it, she’d see it Besra’s way too. “I’m three, nearly four now. I left my own kingdom in search of a new life long ago and I seem to be doing just fine.” She comments, head turning back to face her accuser. “If Archam really is as loving as he seems to want me to believe, I have nothing to fear for my daughter.” She tells her, head tilting gently. “Unless, of course, you think otherwise?” She challenges, ears turning back to listen to the stallion she cannot see.
She wonders if the price of her freedom is really worth the trouble of making this deal, but it’s too late. Whether she likes it or not, Archam had agreed and the words had been spoken. Besra was nothing if she went back on her promises. She shakes her head gently, sighing lightly before turning back around to face her captor. “She’ll be lovely, you won’t be disappointed.” Besra offers, a hint of defeat leaking into her tone. “I’ll see you in two years time.” She says, heavy feet picking up a slow trot as she breezes past him. She won’t let them see how much her choice has broken her already - how much she wishes she could take it all back.
It’s much too late for regrets.
He knows what she’s talking about. Phaedrus wouldn’t touch a herd that his own daughter called home, and Archam wouldn’t dare go against his word, so this exchange kept both communities of mares safe from the fate Besra now suffered. It was a win-win, and if the new mother could think on it, she’d see it Besra’s way too. “I’m three, nearly four now. I left my own kingdom in search of a new life long ago and I seem to be doing just fine.” She comments, head turning back to face her accuser. “If Archam really is as loving as he seems to want me to believe, I have nothing to fear for my daughter.” She tells her, head tilting gently. “Unless, of course, you think otherwise?” She challenges, ears turning back to listen to the stallion she cannot see.
She wonders if the price of her freedom is really worth the trouble of making this deal, but it’s too late. Whether she likes it or not, Archam had agreed and the words had been spoken. Besra was nothing if she went back on her promises. She shakes her head gently, sighing lightly before turning back around to face her captor. “She’ll be lovely, you won’t be disappointed.” Besra offers, a hint of defeat leaking into her tone. “I’ll see you in two years time.” She says, heavy feet picking up a slow trot as she breezes past him. She won’t let them see how much her choice has broken her already - how much she wishes she could take it all back.
It’s much too late for regrets.