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If the gods are real, they have abandoned me entirely, I say softly.
No, Roxilana, I am certain my people will be just as enamored with you as I am.
“You have been my daughter for years,” she continues, unaware of my own churning mood, “but finally I get to properly embrace you.”
“I hope the gods do not spare your soul. Die.”
Baller as fuck
“It will be all right, Empress,” Memnon says, his own voice wavering as he strokes my hair. “Sometimes, this is life too.”
But disobedient or not, I’m loyal to a fault. So I go anyway.
But hope…it really is a fickle fucking god.
