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Her mother had called Naime her little light, had told her from her earliest days that she would be the first woman to rule Tamar in her own right. That she would be the change and the balance the Wheel demanded to correct the wrongs of her ancestors.
dilay my beloved 🥹😔
The view was dominated by an ancient, dead fig tree. It had been her mother’s favorite place in the garden, sitting beneath its shade to read. They had celebrated sorrows and triumphs underneath its branches. The tree had died when she did, and neither Naime nor her father could bear to cut it down.
so heartbreaking omg
post wind and wildfire reaction: i’m so devastated oh my fucking god
She had meant to only watch long enough to confirm it was indeed the Agassi in the ring. Instead she could not take her eyes away. He drove the guardsman mercilessly across the arena, moving with grace and surety, something wild and fierce and beautiful.
“You are something, or you are not. A title that someone else bestows upon you does not make it more or less true. You,” he said, “are a queen as I had never dared to hope might exist.”
That was why he had walked to the tree. He wanted her close, wanted to purge the violence and anger from the day with the sound of her voice, to wash away the heat of battle and the scent of blood with the winter of her magic and rose of her perfume.
“Just like her mother, isn’t she, Behram?” His eyes held a look in them she hadn’t seen since before her mother died. Calculation.
“Apologize? For being the only person to ever defend him publicly or punish someone who attacked him?” He shrugged. “If you like.”
They were a swirling, ever-changing harmony, his peace for her tempest, his restlessness for her calm, his recklessness for her planning, her independence for his loyalty. Night and day, dusk and dawn, the end, and the beginning.
Never. Never would he stand at the head of an army pointed at Naime.
HUSBAAAAAAANDDDDDDDDDDDD
“I wanted them. Every single one. I wanted you to unleash yourself on me, so that you are mine, your secrets and hurts mine to keep and guard.”
She glared at him. He narrowed his eyes in mockery of her glare, barely stifling a grin
“Have a care,” Makram said, his voice deep with threat and magic, “that you do not attempt something you will regret.” His men stood, turning as one to face the room, closing a circle around Makram.
his sexy asssss
