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The name made the woman in question give a scathing laugh, as she finally stepped out of the tepid water she had been taking a bath in, assisted by handmaidens and slaves who quickly wiped her off. How many people, how many girls and ladies out there would die to be called that? Yet here Evras was, suffering because of it. Once she was out of the tub, the slaves were quick to assist her in donning the simple white cotton chiton that functioned as her sleepwear. Shifting so she sat down at the chair that she had not used in many years, it felt foreign to be staring at herself in this mirror as the slaves started to brush her hair dry. With her hands folded on her lap, it was inevitable that Evras's mind ran to the many different directions her day had taken.
Upon her departure from the Lady Selene and her husband earlier in the day, Evras had shot straight to where she found solitude the most - her son's side. Staring at Dion's sleeping figure, it was the only time and place Evras allowed her tears to go, the silent plea she no longer bothered showing anyone but herself. Dion was too young, her husband did not care, and she did not want to bring the wrath of the Thanasi house on to the Kotas should her family, and her father especially, knew how much the young woman suffered by herself.
The moment Dion had shifted and blearily blinked his eyes open, Evras was quick to wipe away evidence of her tears, and had proceeded to bring her son to ready him for dinner, as her husband had instructed. A happy, loving family. What a farce.
With the gods help, she tried her best, but at the first chance she got, Evras excused herself, using Dion's bedtime as a reason to escape, putting the young eleven year old to sleep before she slipped to his room. The chambers had once been familiar, and there was a reason why she avoided entering it. Every alcove her eyes fell on, every corner, she would remember the blissful time that Zanon had once kissed her, worshiped her, whispered sweet nothings to her.
A memory, and nothing more.
"Your Highness, is there anything else you need for the night?"
With a wave of her hand, Evras dismissed the slaves and servant girls, watching as they collected the tub and other items she had used for her bath, disappearing out the door - leaving her quite alone.
With her hair left loose, freshly brushed from the bath, the short chiton she wore fell to her knees. It was odd, to sleep in it. Evras had always grown up sleeping naked, yet the biggest irony was, she would rather sleep in some form of clothing now that she was supposed to share a bed with her estranged husband. A wry laugh escaped her - cut short when the door suddenly was swung open, echoing with a crash that made Evras jump, her eyes flickering immediately to the doorway.
Once her mind registered what her eyes saw, the woman narrowed her gaze, standing up from her seat to face the figure of her husband. "My lord, you... have been drinking." Evras muttered cautiously. She had known the best how to handle her husband, yet these days he was more of a stranger then a lover, and that made the woman antsy as she faced an intoxicated Zanon of Kotas.
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"Princess Evras."
The name made the woman in question give a scathing laugh, as she finally stepped out of the tepid water she had been taking a bath in, assisted by handmaidens and slaves who quickly wiped her off. How many people, how many girls and ladies out there would die to be called that? Yet here Evras was, suffering because of it. Once she was out of the tub, the slaves were quick to assist her in donning the simple white cotton chiton that functioned as her sleepwear. Shifting so she sat down at the chair that she had not used in many years, it felt foreign to be staring at herself in this mirror as the slaves started to brush her hair dry. With her hands folded on her lap, it was inevitable that Evras's mind ran to the many different directions her day had taken.
Upon her departure from the Lady Selene and her husband earlier in the day, Evras had shot straight to where she found solitude the most - her son's side. Staring at Dion's sleeping figure, it was the only time and place Evras allowed her tears to go, the silent plea she no longer bothered showing anyone but herself. Dion was too young, her husband did not care, and she did not want to bring the wrath of the Thanasi house on to the Kotas should her family, and her father especially, knew how much the young woman suffered by herself.
The moment Dion had shifted and blearily blinked his eyes open, Evras was quick to wipe away evidence of her tears, and had proceeded to bring her son to ready him for dinner, as her husband had instructed. A happy, loving family. What a farce.
With the gods help, she tried her best, but at the first chance she got, Evras excused herself, using Dion's bedtime as a reason to escape, putting the young eleven year old to sleep before she slipped to his room. The chambers had once been familiar, and there was a reason why she avoided entering it. Every alcove her eyes fell on, every corner, she would remember the blissful time that Zanon had once kissed her, worshiped her, whispered sweet nothings to her.
A memory, and nothing more.
"Your Highness, is there anything else you need for the night?"
With a wave of her hand, Evras dismissed the slaves and servant girls, watching as they collected the tub and other items she had used for her bath, disappearing out the door - leaving her quite alone.
With her hair left loose, freshly brushed from the bath, the short chiton she wore fell to her knees. It was odd, to sleep in it. Evras had always grown up sleeping naked, yet the biggest irony was, she would rather sleep in some form of clothing now that she was supposed to share a bed with her estranged husband. A wry laugh escaped her - cut short when the door suddenly was swung open, echoing with a crash that made Evras jump, her eyes flickering immediately to the doorway.
Once her mind registered what her eyes saw, the woman narrowed her gaze, standing up from her seat to face the figure of her husband. "My lord, you... have been drinking." Evras muttered cautiously. She had known the best how to handle her husband, yet these days he was more of a stranger then a lover, and that made the woman antsy as she faced an intoxicated Zanon of Kotas.
"Princess Evras."
The name made the woman in question give a scathing laugh, as she finally stepped out of the tepid water she had been taking a bath in, assisted by handmaidens and slaves who quickly wiped her off. How many people, how many girls and ladies out there would die to be called that? Yet here Evras was, suffering because of it. Once she was out of the tub, the slaves were quick to assist her in donning the simple white cotton chiton that functioned as her sleepwear. Shifting so she sat down at the chair that she had not used in many years, it felt foreign to be staring at herself in this mirror as the slaves started to brush her hair dry. With her hands folded on her lap, it was inevitable that Evras's mind ran to the many different directions her day had taken.
Upon her departure from the Lady Selene and her husband earlier in the day, Evras had shot straight to where she found solitude the most - her son's side. Staring at Dion's sleeping figure, it was the only time and place Evras allowed her tears to go, the silent plea she no longer bothered showing anyone but herself. Dion was too young, her husband did not care, and she did not want to bring the wrath of the Thanasi house on to the Kotas should her family, and her father especially, knew how much the young woman suffered by herself.
The moment Dion had shifted and blearily blinked his eyes open, Evras was quick to wipe away evidence of her tears, and had proceeded to bring her son to ready him for dinner, as her husband had instructed. A happy, loving family. What a farce.
With the gods help, she tried her best, but at the first chance she got, Evras excused herself, using Dion's bedtime as a reason to escape, putting the young eleven year old to sleep before she slipped to his room. The chambers had once been familiar, and there was a reason why she avoided entering it. Every alcove her eyes fell on, every corner, she would remember the blissful time that Zanon had once kissed her, worshiped her, whispered sweet nothings to her.
A memory, and nothing more.
"Your Highness, is there anything else you need for the night?"
With a wave of her hand, Evras dismissed the slaves and servant girls, watching as they collected the tub and other items she had used for her bath, disappearing out the door - leaving her quite alone.
With her hair left loose, freshly brushed from the bath, the short chiton she wore fell to her knees. It was odd, to sleep in it. Evras had always grown up sleeping naked, yet the biggest irony was, she would rather sleep in some form of clothing now that she was supposed to share a bed with her estranged husband. A wry laugh escaped her - cut short when the door suddenly was swung open, echoing with a crash that made Evras jump, her eyes flickering immediately to the doorway.
Once her mind registered what her eyes saw, the woman narrowed her gaze, standing up from her seat to face the figure of her husband. "My lord, you... have been drinking." Evras muttered cautiously. She had known the best how to handle her husband, yet these days he was more of a stranger then a lover, and that made the woman antsy as she faced an intoxicated Zanon of Kotas.
He had been drinking. All evening whenever wine was passed he had accepted, and after the dinner had finished he continued with a few other courtiers who had attended the meal with them. For the first time in many years he was to share a room and a bed with his wife, all for the sake of the beautiful visitor who had come to attend to his brother. He wasn't nervous, he wasn't even afraid of her reported powers. It had been so long since they had spent any real time together and their confrontation in the hallway earlier had left a bad taste in his mouth.
It was a difficult thing, to love someone so entirely and wholly and then to wake up. The spell she had woven over him, be it true magic or just herself, had been so utterly complete that for years it was as if he was addicted to her, needing her to feel complete. Even when he went to battle, it was her that he thought of not the tactics and battle before him. She made him weak to himself, and that was why on days of bad weather he walked with a slight limp, a scar that she had never seen healed marking his thigh to his hip. He could have been crippled or killed that day, but instead of being focused on the battle at hand, his thoughts were only of her.
Was it her fault? Perhaps, perhaps not. But Zanon had grown to fear the feelings that she forced him to feel, unable to spend too much time with her before falling prey once again. He was not a young foolish man anymore, attachments that were too much of a distraction were no longer an option, better to make it once or a few short times before moving on to another so that he could not fall in love any more. It was safer for a soldier to keep his head and heart free of such an all consuming love and passion.
When the cups had been emptied, the prince returned to the room where he would share a bed with his wife, stumbling slightly as he opened the door and slamming it harsher than had been intended. There was fear in her eyes, or at the very least caution. She hated him, good. It was better that she hate him than love him, for if she loved him he could not find a way to resist her. Scowling at her remark he scoffed and just shrugged, striding in and undoing his sandals, his dark hair standing on end in various places from the night's events.
"So I have. I believe I'm quite drunk. Do your worst, wife. I can't feel anything."
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He had been drinking. All evening whenever wine was passed he had accepted, and after the dinner had finished he continued with a few other courtiers who had attended the meal with them. For the first time in many years he was to share a room and a bed with his wife, all for the sake of the beautiful visitor who had come to attend to his brother. He wasn't nervous, he wasn't even afraid of her reported powers. It had been so long since they had spent any real time together and their confrontation in the hallway earlier had left a bad taste in his mouth.
It was a difficult thing, to love someone so entirely and wholly and then to wake up. The spell she had woven over him, be it true magic or just herself, had been so utterly complete that for years it was as if he was addicted to her, needing her to feel complete. Even when he went to battle, it was her that he thought of not the tactics and battle before him. She made him weak to himself, and that was why on days of bad weather he walked with a slight limp, a scar that she had never seen healed marking his thigh to his hip. He could have been crippled or killed that day, but instead of being focused on the battle at hand, his thoughts were only of her.
Was it her fault? Perhaps, perhaps not. But Zanon had grown to fear the feelings that she forced him to feel, unable to spend too much time with her before falling prey once again. He was not a young foolish man anymore, attachments that were too much of a distraction were no longer an option, better to make it once or a few short times before moving on to another so that he could not fall in love any more. It was safer for a soldier to keep his head and heart free of such an all consuming love and passion.
When the cups had been emptied, the prince returned to the room where he would share a bed with his wife, stumbling slightly as he opened the door and slamming it harsher than had been intended. There was fear in her eyes, or at the very least caution. She hated him, good. It was better that she hate him than love him, for if she loved him he could not find a way to resist her. Scowling at her remark he scoffed and just shrugged, striding in and undoing his sandals, his dark hair standing on end in various places from the night's events.
"So I have. I believe I'm quite drunk. Do your worst, wife. I can't feel anything."
He had been drinking. All evening whenever wine was passed he had accepted, and after the dinner had finished he continued with a few other courtiers who had attended the meal with them. For the first time in many years he was to share a room and a bed with his wife, all for the sake of the beautiful visitor who had come to attend to his brother. He wasn't nervous, he wasn't even afraid of her reported powers. It had been so long since they had spent any real time together and their confrontation in the hallway earlier had left a bad taste in his mouth.
It was a difficult thing, to love someone so entirely and wholly and then to wake up. The spell she had woven over him, be it true magic or just herself, had been so utterly complete that for years it was as if he was addicted to her, needing her to feel complete. Even when he went to battle, it was her that he thought of not the tactics and battle before him. She made him weak to himself, and that was why on days of bad weather he walked with a slight limp, a scar that she had never seen healed marking his thigh to his hip. He could have been crippled or killed that day, but instead of being focused on the battle at hand, his thoughts were only of her.
Was it her fault? Perhaps, perhaps not. But Zanon had grown to fear the feelings that she forced him to feel, unable to spend too much time with her before falling prey once again. He was not a young foolish man anymore, attachments that were too much of a distraction were no longer an option, better to make it once or a few short times before moving on to another so that he could not fall in love any more. It was safer for a soldier to keep his head and heart free of such an all consuming love and passion.
When the cups had been emptied, the prince returned to the room where he would share a bed with his wife, stumbling slightly as he opened the door and slamming it harsher than had been intended. There was fear in her eyes, or at the very least caution. She hated him, good. It was better that she hate him than love him, for if she loved him he could not find a way to resist her. Scowling at her remark he scoffed and just shrugged, striding in and undoing his sandals, his dark hair standing on end in various places from the night's events.
"So I have. I believe I'm quite drunk. Do your worst, wife. I can't feel anything."
In happier times back in the day, Evras would run to him the moment he came in, whether be it from entertaining other courtiers in a symposium, or because he had chosen to put Dion to bed that night and had asked her to retire earlier so she could get her rest. Her husband had been attentive and loving, treating her as if she was the most precious thing he had, the oxygen he couldn't live without, and Evras had basked in it, believing foolishly that her life would be blissful for the rest of her life.
She would've jumped in his arms, and kissed her, bringing her to bed where they would end up entwined in the arms of the other, enjoying the presence and warmth under the sheets.
But not anymore.
His voice was cold as he spoke, as if he wanted to cause her hurt. That in itself was enough to feel as if someone further twisted the dagger he had embedded in her heart so many years ago. Up till today, Evras did not know what had went wrong. He had came home injured one day, and she had dutifully tended to him as a wife should, worried to her bones for her husband, only for him to turn her away at every turn. She had blamed herself at first, and then the guilt and frustration had turned to anger when Zanon further instigated her.
Her blue-green eyes narrowed at his figure, gaze following him across the room as he entered. His hair was a mess. Did other courtiers run their hands through them? Did he prefer their seductive words, wily ways? She had tried to get Nethis to teach her but Evras was no natural at it, and failed miserably. That had happened in the first few years of their estrangement, and after he still rejected her, Evras swore never to crouch that low any longer. She was a Thanasi, she was not meant to grovel that low for a man.
"I have no need to do anything to you, husband." she gritted out, turning away from him. Her hair fell across her shoulders as she bent down to replace the chair in its spot under the table. "Since you show no loyalty to your vows, I see no reason why I was supposed to." she meant to instigate him. Perhaps it was petty, but at this point Evras would do anything if it would make him understand even the smallest degree of how much his actions hurt him. The Thanasi sister was not someone who would defy her marriage vows, even if many came for her hand the moment news of her husband's infidelity reached the public ears, but Evras had turned them all away. She did not need Dion brought up in such an enviroment.
But it was not something her husband had to know.
Striding over to the windows, she closed the windows to prevent the chill from entering, before making her way to the edge of the bed she had usually occupied, so many years ago. It was funny, how something, someone, who she had known so intimately, was now no more then a stranger. Pulling the covers, she gracefully lowered herself on the bed, tucking her legs under her. "I will not leave Dion here when I go to my family home. My father deserves to see his grandson as much as your family does." Evras said, back against her husband. She had no intention of just doing as he said in that brief but bitter exchange they had had in the hallway.
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In happier times back in the day, Evras would run to him the moment he came in, whether be it from entertaining other courtiers in a symposium, or because he had chosen to put Dion to bed that night and had asked her to retire earlier so she could get her rest. Her husband had been attentive and loving, treating her as if she was the most precious thing he had, the oxygen he couldn't live without, and Evras had basked in it, believing foolishly that her life would be blissful for the rest of her life.
She would've jumped in his arms, and kissed her, bringing her to bed where they would end up entwined in the arms of the other, enjoying the presence and warmth under the sheets.
But not anymore.
His voice was cold as he spoke, as if he wanted to cause her hurt. That in itself was enough to feel as if someone further twisted the dagger he had embedded in her heart so many years ago. Up till today, Evras did not know what had went wrong. He had came home injured one day, and she had dutifully tended to him as a wife should, worried to her bones for her husband, only for him to turn her away at every turn. She had blamed herself at first, and then the guilt and frustration had turned to anger when Zanon further instigated her.
Her blue-green eyes narrowed at his figure, gaze following him across the room as he entered. His hair was a mess. Did other courtiers run their hands through them? Did he prefer their seductive words, wily ways? She had tried to get Nethis to teach her but Evras was no natural at it, and failed miserably. That had happened in the first few years of their estrangement, and after he still rejected her, Evras swore never to crouch that low any longer. She was a Thanasi, she was not meant to grovel that low for a man.
"I have no need to do anything to you, husband." she gritted out, turning away from him. Her hair fell across her shoulders as she bent down to replace the chair in its spot under the table. "Since you show no loyalty to your vows, I see no reason why I was supposed to." she meant to instigate him. Perhaps it was petty, but at this point Evras would do anything if it would make him understand even the smallest degree of how much his actions hurt him. The Thanasi sister was not someone who would defy her marriage vows, even if many came for her hand the moment news of her husband's infidelity reached the public ears, but Evras had turned them all away. She did not need Dion brought up in such an enviroment.
But it was not something her husband had to know.
Striding over to the windows, she closed the windows to prevent the chill from entering, before making her way to the edge of the bed she had usually occupied, so many years ago. It was funny, how something, someone, who she had known so intimately, was now no more then a stranger. Pulling the covers, she gracefully lowered herself on the bed, tucking her legs under her. "I will not leave Dion here when I go to my family home. My father deserves to see his grandson as much as your family does." Evras said, back against her husband. She had no intention of just doing as he said in that brief but bitter exchange they had had in the hallway.
In happier times back in the day, Evras would run to him the moment he came in, whether be it from entertaining other courtiers in a symposium, or because he had chosen to put Dion to bed that night and had asked her to retire earlier so she could get her rest. Her husband had been attentive and loving, treating her as if she was the most precious thing he had, the oxygen he couldn't live without, and Evras had basked in it, believing foolishly that her life would be blissful for the rest of her life.
She would've jumped in his arms, and kissed her, bringing her to bed where they would end up entwined in the arms of the other, enjoying the presence and warmth under the sheets.
But not anymore.
His voice was cold as he spoke, as if he wanted to cause her hurt. That in itself was enough to feel as if someone further twisted the dagger he had embedded in her heart so many years ago. Up till today, Evras did not know what had went wrong. He had came home injured one day, and she had dutifully tended to him as a wife should, worried to her bones for her husband, only for him to turn her away at every turn. She had blamed herself at first, and then the guilt and frustration had turned to anger when Zanon further instigated her.
Her blue-green eyes narrowed at his figure, gaze following him across the room as he entered. His hair was a mess. Did other courtiers run their hands through them? Did he prefer their seductive words, wily ways? She had tried to get Nethis to teach her but Evras was no natural at it, and failed miserably. That had happened in the first few years of their estrangement, and after he still rejected her, Evras swore never to crouch that low any longer. She was a Thanasi, she was not meant to grovel that low for a man.
"I have no need to do anything to you, husband." she gritted out, turning away from him. Her hair fell across her shoulders as she bent down to replace the chair in its spot under the table. "Since you show no loyalty to your vows, I see no reason why I was supposed to." she meant to instigate him. Perhaps it was petty, but at this point Evras would do anything if it would make him understand even the smallest degree of how much his actions hurt him. The Thanasi sister was not someone who would defy her marriage vows, even if many came for her hand the moment news of her husband's infidelity reached the public ears, but Evras had turned them all away. She did not need Dion brought up in such an enviroment.
But it was not something her husband had to know.
Striding over to the windows, she closed the windows to prevent the chill from entering, before making her way to the edge of the bed she had usually occupied, so many years ago. It was funny, how something, someone, who she had known so intimately, was now no more then a stranger. Pulling the covers, she gracefully lowered herself on the bed, tucking her legs under her. "I will not leave Dion here when I go to my family home. My father deserves to see his grandson as much as your family does." Evras said, back against her husband. She had no intention of just doing as he said in that brief but bitter exchange they had had in the hallway.
Zanon flinched as she said the word husband. Where before her voice had been one of sweet comfort now it felt as if it was biting into him, digging deeper into his wounds at every moment. He narrowed his eyes as he glared across to her, undoing the belt about his waist and throwing it aside, the leather making a harsh slapping sound as it hit the ground from the force with which he had tossed it. If she was trying to bait him, it was working. The very thought of anyone else touching her made a fiery rage burn through him and he snarled as she sat down on the bed, his bed that had once been theirs.
"Our vows are different and you know that. If you allow another to touch you...if you think for a moment I would claim your bastard as mine...I would kill you both without hesitation."
The threat was slurred with his words and a pang wrenched at his heart as he threatened her death, but he would not allow himself to listen to it, it was all just the spell, nothing true. Zanon stalked up behind her, drawing the knife from the holster around his thigh as he slid up behind her on the bed that they had once blissfully shared, reaching out to grip her shoulder tightly with the knifeless hand.
"Dion is my heir. He is a Kotas, not a Thanasi. If your father wishes to see him he can come to the palace, cursed though he is. But Dion will not leave these walls."
His grip ran to her throat now, pulling her back against his chest and trying to force her chin up to look him in the eye. In another time he might have kissed her, added sweetness to the edge he held. It was still tempting, her lips were still full and beautiful eleven years later, as was her body, all so tempting that he felt a dull ache in his chest for times gone by when he might have simply had her and held her all night. But those times were gone, as she had said.
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Zanon flinched as she said the word husband. Where before her voice had been one of sweet comfort now it felt as if it was biting into him, digging deeper into his wounds at every moment. He narrowed his eyes as he glared across to her, undoing the belt about his waist and throwing it aside, the leather making a harsh slapping sound as it hit the ground from the force with which he had tossed it. If she was trying to bait him, it was working. The very thought of anyone else touching her made a fiery rage burn through him and he snarled as she sat down on the bed, his bed that had once been theirs.
"Our vows are different and you know that. If you allow another to touch you...if you think for a moment I would claim your bastard as mine...I would kill you both without hesitation."
The threat was slurred with his words and a pang wrenched at his heart as he threatened her death, but he would not allow himself to listen to it, it was all just the spell, nothing true. Zanon stalked up behind her, drawing the knife from the holster around his thigh as he slid up behind her on the bed that they had once blissfully shared, reaching out to grip her shoulder tightly with the knifeless hand.
"Dion is my heir. He is a Kotas, not a Thanasi. If your father wishes to see him he can come to the palace, cursed though he is. But Dion will not leave these walls."
His grip ran to her throat now, pulling her back against his chest and trying to force her chin up to look him in the eye. In another time he might have kissed her, added sweetness to the edge he held. It was still tempting, her lips were still full and beautiful eleven years later, as was her body, all so tempting that he felt a dull ache in his chest for times gone by when he might have simply had her and held her all night. But those times were gone, as she had said.
Zanon flinched as she said the word husband. Where before her voice had been one of sweet comfort now it felt as if it was biting into him, digging deeper into his wounds at every moment. He narrowed his eyes as he glared across to her, undoing the belt about his waist and throwing it aside, the leather making a harsh slapping sound as it hit the ground from the force with which he had tossed it. If she was trying to bait him, it was working. The very thought of anyone else touching her made a fiery rage burn through him and he snarled as she sat down on the bed, his bed that had once been theirs.
"Our vows are different and you know that. If you allow another to touch you...if you think for a moment I would claim your bastard as mine...I would kill you both without hesitation."
The threat was slurred with his words and a pang wrenched at his heart as he threatened her death, but he would not allow himself to listen to it, it was all just the spell, nothing true. Zanon stalked up behind her, drawing the knife from the holster around his thigh as he slid up behind her on the bed that they had once blissfully shared, reaching out to grip her shoulder tightly with the knifeless hand.
"Dion is my heir. He is a Kotas, not a Thanasi. If your father wishes to see him he can come to the palace, cursed though he is. But Dion will not leave these walls."
His grip ran to her throat now, pulling her back against his chest and trying to force her chin up to look him in the eye. In another time he might have kissed her, added sweetness to the edge he held. It was still tempting, her lips were still full and beautiful eleven years later, as was her body, all so tempting that he felt a dull ache in his chest for times gone by when he might have simply had her and held her all night. But those times were gone, as she had said.
She would never. Her biggest fault, as Mihaila and Thea often pointed out after 8 years of being and staying loyal and faithful in a marriage that had fallen apart by its seams, was her unfailing loyalty. Up till today, Evras could not figure out why could she not just move on, and forget about him when he so obviously had to her.
Her eyes flashed at his words. Different? Different? "We vowed to be husband and wife." she hissed, her words venemous as they spilled from her lips. She would never do as he implied, as she herself had implied. Evras could not find it in her to do so... and yet, she could not help the petty way she lashed out at him. To hurt him as much as he hurt her. Cut her. Made her cry. "If you cannot keep your hands to yourself, tis you who broke the vow first. Not me. I did not vow to remain stupid when you do as you wanted."
It was obvious by now, that Evras of Thanasi, Kotas she may have married to, was not a woman easily cowed. She loved, she passionately protected, and she may cry easily, but she is by no means weak simply because of her tears.
Her spine stiffened when she heard the knife slide out of her sheath, and her face paled at his hand on her shoulder. She trusted Zanon, had always did. Even at his worst, when he broke their marriage sanctity again and again, at worst, Evras trusted him to never hurt her physically, never treat her cruelly, never lay a finger on her.
Now... now, she wasn't so sure. She didn't even recognize him any longer.
Shivering when his grip ran to her throat, her eyes flickered to him, and for the first time in perhaps the 11 years they had married... they flashed in fear. The blue-green gaze that had once captured him, now gazed at him in genuine terror, as she could do nothing but let him manipulate her chin. Her back pressed against his chest, there was a time when Evras would've melted into his hold, turn to let her lips meet his, her legs wrap around his waist, and they would enjoy their time together. As she gazed, she admitted one thing. He was handsome, nothing had changed. Yet, everything had also changed.
"You are a Thanasi."
As if hearing her sister's voice in her ears, in a split second, Evras yanked her chin out of his grip, pushing him back simultaneously as she shot out of the bed, and turned on her heel to glare at him, her chiton askew off her shoulders, revealing just the top of her creamy breasts, bare in the moonlight that streamed in the bedroom window. "Dion ismy son. I carried him for nine months. I fed him, I changed him, I stayed with him... I took care of him. While you were out with others, he stayed in my embrace. You have no right to take him away, nor my family." she growled, fire blazing in her eyes, anger evident. "And don't you dare speak that way of my father." While Evras did not overly love Dionysios as a father, with his streak of cunning malice and manipulative way, he was her father at the end of the day. "If you cannot say anything nice, my lord, do not say anything at all. Or I would sleep in the stables afore I share your bed."
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She would never. Her biggest fault, as Mihaila and Thea often pointed out after 8 years of being and staying loyal and faithful in a marriage that had fallen apart by its seams, was her unfailing loyalty. Up till today, Evras could not figure out why could she not just move on, and forget about him when he so obviously had to her.
Her eyes flashed at his words. Different? Different? "We vowed to be husband and wife." she hissed, her words venemous as they spilled from her lips. She would never do as he implied, as she herself had implied. Evras could not find it in her to do so... and yet, she could not help the petty way she lashed out at him. To hurt him as much as he hurt her. Cut her. Made her cry. "If you cannot keep your hands to yourself, tis you who broke the vow first. Not me. I did not vow to remain stupid when you do as you wanted."
It was obvious by now, that Evras of Thanasi, Kotas she may have married to, was not a woman easily cowed. She loved, she passionately protected, and she may cry easily, but she is by no means weak simply because of her tears.
Her spine stiffened when she heard the knife slide out of her sheath, and her face paled at his hand on her shoulder. She trusted Zanon, had always did. Even at his worst, when he broke their marriage sanctity again and again, at worst, Evras trusted him to never hurt her physically, never treat her cruelly, never lay a finger on her.
Now... now, she wasn't so sure. She didn't even recognize him any longer.
Shivering when his grip ran to her throat, her eyes flickered to him, and for the first time in perhaps the 11 years they had married... they flashed in fear. The blue-green gaze that had once captured him, now gazed at him in genuine terror, as she could do nothing but let him manipulate her chin. Her back pressed against his chest, there was a time when Evras would've melted into his hold, turn to let her lips meet his, her legs wrap around his waist, and they would enjoy their time together. As she gazed, she admitted one thing. He was handsome, nothing had changed. Yet, everything had also changed.
"You are a Thanasi."
As if hearing her sister's voice in her ears, in a split second, Evras yanked her chin out of his grip, pushing him back simultaneously as she shot out of the bed, and turned on her heel to glare at him, her chiton askew off her shoulders, revealing just the top of her creamy breasts, bare in the moonlight that streamed in the bedroom window. "Dion ismy son. I carried him for nine months. I fed him, I changed him, I stayed with him... I took care of him. While you were out with others, he stayed in my embrace. You have no right to take him away, nor my family." she growled, fire blazing in her eyes, anger evident. "And don't you dare speak that way of my father." While Evras did not overly love Dionysios as a father, with his streak of cunning malice and manipulative way, he was her father at the end of the day. "If you cannot say anything nice, my lord, do not say anything at all. Or I would sleep in the stables afore I share your bed."
She would never. Her biggest fault, as Mihaila and Thea often pointed out after 8 years of being and staying loyal and faithful in a marriage that had fallen apart by its seams, was her unfailing loyalty. Up till today, Evras could not figure out why could she not just move on, and forget about him when he so obviously had to her.
Her eyes flashed at his words. Different? Different? "We vowed to be husband and wife." she hissed, her words venemous as they spilled from her lips. She would never do as he implied, as she herself had implied. Evras could not find it in her to do so... and yet, she could not help the petty way she lashed out at him. To hurt him as much as he hurt her. Cut her. Made her cry. "If you cannot keep your hands to yourself, tis you who broke the vow first. Not me. I did not vow to remain stupid when you do as you wanted."
It was obvious by now, that Evras of Thanasi, Kotas she may have married to, was not a woman easily cowed. She loved, she passionately protected, and she may cry easily, but she is by no means weak simply because of her tears.
Her spine stiffened when she heard the knife slide out of her sheath, and her face paled at his hand on her shoulder. She trusted Zanon, had always did. Even at his worst, when he broke their marriage sanctity again and again, at worst, Evras trusted him to never hurt her physically, never treat her cruelly, never lay a finger on her.
Now... now, she wasn't so sure. She didn't even recognize him any longer.
Shivering when his grip ran to her throat, her eyes flickered to him, and for the first time in perhaps the 11 years they had married... they flashed in fear. The blue-green gaze that had once captured him, now gazed at him in genuine terror, as she could do nothing but let him manipulate her chin. Her back pressed against his chest, there was a time when Evras would've melted into his hold, turn to let her lips meet his, her legs wrap around his waist, and they would enjoy their time together. As she gazed, she admitted one thing. He was handsome, nothing had changed. Yet, everything had also changed.
"You are a Thanasi."
As if hearing her sister's voice in her ears, in a split second, Evras yanked her chin out of his grip, pushing him back simultaneously as she shot out of the bed, and turned on her heel to glare at him, her chiton askew off her shoulders, revealing just the top of her creamy breasts, bare in the moonlight that streamed in the bedroom window. "Dion ismy son. I carried him for nine months. I fed him, I changed him, I stayed with him... I took care of him. While you were out with others, he stayed in my embrace. You have no right to take him away, nor my family." she growled, fire blazing in her eyes, anger evident. "And don't you dare speak that way of my father." While Evras did not overly love Dionysios as a father, with his streak of cunning malice and manipulative way, he was her father at the end of the day. "If you cannot say anything nice, my lord, do not say anything at all. Or I would sleep in the stables afore I share your bed."
"Aye vowed to be husband and wife because of the hold you had on me. I've been a witch's plaything, not a man."
Zanon snarled the words into her ear, that look of fear in her eyes simultaneously satisfying and heartbreaking. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and hold her to his chest, press kisses and to her lips and cheeks and those eyes that looked as though they might spill tears. And then as she moved away from him that scar that he unreasonably blamed her for twinged and he was bitter once again, glaring after her. If he had been sober, he would have been able to catch her, cut her even if she struck at him, but the drink was inhibiting his actions and his brain, and he could hardly tear his eyes away as the motion revealed her chest.
"Dion is just as much mine as yours! Or do you think my father would have allowed me to marry you otherwise?"
The king had been less than thrilled at the thought of raising a Thanasi girl in such a way, Zanon's pleas had fallen on deaf ears for a long while, until he had discovered Evras was with child. He had fought to keep her from just being a mistress. Fought tooth and nail to have them wed before the birth of Dion so never once would there be a stigma against her or their son. And now here she was declaring that he was only hers.
"I will keep my son here with me. If you insist on being with him then you will stay as well. Dion must begin his training so he can be a soldier like the rest of us. If I have to lock you in your chambers to keep him here don't test me, I will."
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"Aye vowed to be husband and wife because of the hold you had on me. I've been a witch's plaything, not a man."
Zanon snarled the words into her ear, that look of fear in her eyes simultaneously satisfying and heartbreaking. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and hold her to his chest, press kisses and to her lips and cheeks and those eyes that looked as though they might spill tears. And then as she moved away from him that scar that he unreasonably blamed her for twinged and he was bitter once again, glaring after her. If he had been sober, he would have been able to catch her, cut her even if she struck at him, but the drink was inhibiting his actions and his brain, and he could hardly tear his eyes away as the motion revealed her chest.
"Dion is just as much mine as yours! Or do you think my father would have allowed me to marry you otherwise?"
The king had been less than thrilled at the thought of raising a Thanasi girl in such a way, Zanon's pleas had fallen on deaf ears for a long while, until he had discovered Evras was with child. He had fought to keep her from just being a mistress. Fought tooth and nail to have them wed before the birth of Dion so never once would there be a stigma against her or their son. And now here she was declaring that he was only hers.
"I will keep my son here with me. If you insist on being with him then you will stay as well. Dion must begin his training so he can be a soldier like the rest of us. If I have to lock you in your chambers to keep him here don't test me, I will."
"Aye vowed to be husband and wife because of the hold you had on me. I've been a witch's plaything, not a man."
Zanon snarled the words into her ear, that look of fear in her eyes simultaneously satisfying and heartbreaking. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and hold her to his chest, press kisses and to her lips and cheeks and those eyes that looked as though they might spill tears. And then as she moved away from him that scar that he unreasonably blamed her for twinged and he was bitter once again, glaring after her. If he had been sober, he would have been able to catch her, cut her even if she struck at him, but the drink was inhibiting his actions and his brain, and he could hardly tear his eyes away as the motion revealed her chest.
"Dion is just as much mine as yours! Or do you think my father would have allowed me to marry you otherwise?"
The king had been less than thrilled at the thought of raising a Thanasi girl in such a way, Zanon's pleas had fallen on deaf ears for a long while, until he had discovered Evras was with child. He had fought to keep her from just being a mistress. Fought tooth and nail to have them wed before the birth of Dion so never once would there be a stigma against her or their son. And now here she was declaring that he was only hers.
"I will keep my son here with me. If you insist on being with him then you will stay as well. Dion must begin his training so he can be a soldier like the rest of us. If I have to lock you in your chambers to keep him here don't test me, I will."
She had never heard his words so harshly used against hers, and more then the hurt he could cause her physically, especially when the knife glinted in his hand, it was the heartbreak that happened to her on an almost daily basis, that Evras could not stand most of all. She refused to let him see her tears, yet they came anyway, more angry then sad now. Her jaw was gritted in a fierce manner, a way that would've scared off a man more of a coward then Zanon was.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips, as Evras gave a wry smile to him. "And what a wonderful family I'm in, a blessing indeed, Prince Zanon of Kotas." her dry, sarcastic voice came out with a mild tremble in its tone. "To be in a family where my brothers-in-law wish me dead, my father-in-law sees me as a plague, and my own husband who canot even stand the sight of me." Her fists clenched by her sides, a show of anger she otherwise had no avenue to release.
Oh she knew, she was no dumb fool. She had never been welcomed in the household - at least, not ever since Zanon had abandoned her. Perhaps the first few years, she had been wrapped up in the love she shared with her husband that she never noticed the treatment of the rest of the family to her. But now she could see. The dark looks casted her way, the whispers... she had no home in a place she was supposed to feel safest in.
"And you wonder why I return home so often. To a place where I actually have people care and love me. You took all of that away."
Her eyes narrowed, the clear gaze bitter and cold. When he fought for her, Evras had fallen even deeper in love with him. Had though that he was a man who treasured her, and would continue in such a manner for the rest of time.
A lie to herself.
She growled at his words - her son was the only thing she had left in this cold mansion she was now forced to call her home, with people she was now forced to call family. "He is eleven." she snarled as she took a step closer to him, unable to see her only son and lifeline taken away from her. "You lock me in the chambers, and I assure you Prince Zanon, that you will have a dead corpse on your hand, for I will get to my son or I will die trying." It was a threat that Evras was unafraid to carry out, and it was clear for all to see from the firm way in which she said things, and her stance.
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She had never heard his words so harshly used against hers, and more then the hurt he could cause her physically, especially when the knife glinted in his hand, it was the heartbreak that happened to her on an almost daily basis, that Evras could not stand most of all. She refused to let him see her tears, yet they came anyway, more angry then sad now. Her jaw was gritted in a fierce manner, a way that would've scared off a man more of a coward then Zanon was.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips, as Evras gave a wry smile to him. "And what a wonderful family I'm in, a blessing indeed, Prince Zanon of Kotas." her dry, sarcastic voice came out with a mild tremble in its tone. "To be in a family where my brothers-in-law wish me dead, my father-in-law sees me as a plague, and my own husband who canot even stand the sight of me." Her fists clenched by her sides, a show of anger she otherwise had no avenue to release.
Oh she knew, she was no dumb fool. She had never been welcomed in the household - at least, not ever since Zanon had abandoned her. Perhaps the first few years, she had been wrapped up in the love she shared with her husband that she never noticed the treatment of the rest of the family to her. But now she could see. The dark looks casted her way, the whispers... she had no home in a place she was supposed to feel safest in.
"And you wonder why I return home so often. To a place where I actually have people care and love me. You took all of that away."
Her eyes narrowed, the clear gaze bitter and cold. When he fought for her, Evras had fallen even deeper in love with him. Had though that he was a man who treasured her, and would continue in such a manner for the rest of time.
A lie to herself.
She growled at his words - her son was the only thing she had left in this cold mansion she was now forced to call her home, with people she was now forced to call family. "He is eleven." she snarled as she took a step closer to him, unable to see her only son and lifeline taken away from her. "You lock me in the chambers, and I assure you Prince Zanon, that you will have a dead corpse on your hand, for I will get to my son or I will die trying." It was a threat that Evras was unafraid to carry out, and it was clear for all to see from the firm way in which she said things, and her stance.
She had never heard his words so harshly used against hers, and more then the hurt he could cause her physically, especially when the knife glinted in his hand, it was the heartbreak that happened to her on an almost daily basis, that Evras could not stand most of all. She refused to let him see her tears, yet they came anyway, more angry then sad now. Her jaw was gritted in a fierce manner, a way that would've scared off a man more of a coward then Zanon was.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips, as Evras gave a wry smile to him. "And what a wonderful family I'm in, a blessing indeed, Prince Zanon of Kotas." her dry, sarcastic voice came out with a mild tremble in its tone. "To be in a family where my brothers-in-law wish me dead, my father-in-law sees me as a plague, and my own husband who canot even stand the sight of me." Her fists clenched by her sides, a show of anger she otherwise had no avenue to release.
Oh she knew, she was no dumb fool. She had never been welcomed in the household - at least, not ever since Zanon had abandoned her. Perhaps the first few years, she had been wrapped up in the love she shared with her husband that she never noticed the treatment of the rest of the family to her. But now she could see. The dark looks casted her way, the whispers... she had no home in a place she was supposed to feel safest in.
"And you wonder why I return home so often. To a place where I actually have people care and love me. You took all of that away."
Her eyes narrowed, the clear gaze bitter and cold. When he fought for her, Evras had fallen even deeper in love with him. Had though that he was a man who treasured her, and would continue in such a manner for the rest of time.
A lie to herself.
She growled at his words - her son was the only thing she had left in this cold mansion she was now forced to call her home, with people she was now forced to call family. "He is eleven." she snarled as she took a step closer to him, unable to see her only son and lifeline taken away from her. "You lock me in the chambers, and I assure you Prince Zanon, that you will have a dead corpse on your hand, for I will get to my son or I will die trying." It was a threat that Evras was unafraid to carry out, and it was clear for all to see from the firm way in which she said things, and her stance.
"Eleven, yes and I was but nine when my father began preparing me for war. We are Colchian, not some stuffy pampered Taengeans. He will fight many battles before he can live in peace, like we all have."
Zanon spat the words back at her and as she dared to step in closer reached out to tug at her chiton, yanking her closer and gripping his hands around her waist to keep her near. She would not be allowed to make such threats, not when the thought of it sent a pang of panic through his chest, not when her spell still affected him. He held her tight, a vice like grip to keep her from going anywhere even in his inebriated state, leaning in to put his face near hers as if to kiss her like in the old days.
"A corpse, would cause far less trouble. You will have your son still, do not fear. But he will stay here, and learn to be a proper Kotas man. Not another witch."
It was the fact he was so entirely drunk that he wanted to kiss her so badly, at least that was what he was telling himself. His lips barely brushed against her cheek, breath hot against skin that was so pale in the light of moon and candles it could have been made of ice and snow. His body was reacting to her proximity without his permission and as he looked into her eyes for a long moment he felt the spell take hold one more, a rush of heat flooding through him as he allowed himself one more touch, one more moment.
"Your beauty never fades..in so many long years I have become old, scarred and broken...and yet you remain the same."
He breathed out the words against her cheek, pressing his forehead against her as he furrowed his brow and squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the conflict inside and allowing the dagger in one hand to fall to the bed. He shouldn't want her. Shouldn't want this. It was not to be allowed and yet memories of a time when they warmed one another flooded through him.
"To bed, wife."
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"Eleven, yes and I was but nine when my father began preparing me for war. We are Colchian, not some stuffy pampered Taengeans. He will fight many battles before he can live in peace, like we all have."
Zanon spat the words back at her and as she dared to step in closer reached out to tug at her chiton, yanking her closer and gripping his hands around her waist to keep her near. She would not be allowed to make such threats, not when the thought of it sent a pang of panic through his chest, not when her spell still affected him. He held her tight, a vice like grip to keep her from going anywhere even in his inebriated state, leaning in to put his face near hers as if to kiss her like in the old days.
"A corpse, would cause far less trouble. You will have your son still, do not fear. But he will stay here, and learn to be a proper Kotas man. Not another witch."
It was the fact he was so entirely drunk that he wanted to kiss her so badly, at least that was what he was telling himself. His lips barely brushed against her cheek, breath hot against skin that was so pale in the light of moon and candles it could have been made of ice and snow. His body was reacting to her proximity without his permission and as he looked into her eyes for a long moment he felt the spell take hold one more, a rush of heat flooding through him as he allowed himself one more touch, one more moment.
"Your beauty never fades..in so many long years I have become old, scarred and broken...and yet you remain the same."
He breathed out the words against her cheek, pressing his forehead against her as he furrowed his brow and squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the conflict inside and allowing the dagger in one hand to fall to the bed. He shouldn't want her. Shouldn't want this. It was not to be allowed and yet memories of a time when they warmed one another flooded through him.
"To bed, wife."
"Eleven, yes and I was but nine when my father began preparing me for war. We are Colchian, not some stuffy pampered Taengeans. He will fight many battles before he can live in peace, like we all have."
Zanon spat the words back at her and as she dared to step in closer reached out to tug at her chiton, yanking her closer and gripping his hands around her waist to keep her near. She would not be allowed to make such threats, not when the thought of it sent a pang of panic through his chest, not when her spell still affected him. He held her tight, a vice like grip to keep her from going anywhere even in his inebriated state, leaning in to put his face near hers as if to kiss her like in the old days.
"A corpse, would cause far less trouble. You will have your son still, do not fear. But he will stay here, and learn to be a proper Kotas man. Not another witch."
It was the fact he was so entirely drunk that he wanted to kiss her so badly, at least that was what he was telling himself. His lips barely brushed against her cheek, breath hot against skin that was so pale in the light of moon and candles it could have been made of ice and snow. His body was reacting to her proximity without his permission and as he looked into her eyes for a long moment he felt the spell take hold one more, a rush of heat flooding through him as he allowed himself one more touch, one more moment.
"Your beauty never fades..in so many long years I have become old, scarred and broken...and yet you remain the same."
He breathed out the words against her cheek, pressing his forehead against her as he furrowed his brow and squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the conflict inside and allowing the dagger in one hand to fall to the bed. He shouldn't want her. Shouldn't want this. It was not to be allowed and yet memories of a time when they warmed one another flooded through him.
"To bed, wife."
She knew, logic dictated that Dion would join the ranks of young trainee soldiers, if not in proper fights, then at least to start the training young so he would develop the appropriate muscle and mass by the time he joined his own regiment. But the mother in her denied that, wanted to delay the growth of her young boy as long as she could. It was a pain only a parent could understand, but made ten times worst for she could not share her hopes and fears for her only son with anyone.
At least, no one around her.
When he gripped and yanked her forward, Evras could not deny that surprised squeal that she emitted. His hands around her waist felt punishing, and where they had once felt familiar, welcome even, now they only instilled fear in her. How did they become such strangers, when his touch was once the most wanted thing Evras had in her life?
His proximity, curse him, still made her heart race. The way the heat curled on the surface of her skin, made her heart go erratic, make the warmth curl the furthest parts of her toes, in places heat would steal. The words 'witch' hurt her, each time. That he would believe the words of the masses over his own wife, the wife he had promised to cherish and love regardless of where and what had happened. Vows that were lies 11 years in the making.
She leaned back as far as his vise grip around her waist would let, trying to ignore the way she shivered when his lips ghosted across her cheek, the hot breathe making her palms sweat. His gaze made her nervous - they always had, but this time it made the words she wanted so desperately to say, remain stuck in her throat. If she didn't know better, she would've said he was the witch, that he managed to maintain her loyalty despite doing nothing of that sort himself.
Old? Scarred? Broken? Hardly. Evras would've laughed at his admission. In a time where they still had love, she would've held his face in her palms, reassured him that in no way was he old, scarred or broken. That he was perfect in her eyes, strong as he was in protecting his loved ones, and that the years had been kind on him.
But he scared her. Her lips trembled, her eyes squeezed shut when their foreheads met, and the tears spilled out of her closed eyes, down her cheek, to fall on his arm. Hot, filled with her pain, and a reminder of all they had lost. Her hands had, in the tussle, found themselves splayed on his chest - the same chest she remembered where her hand laid the first time they had crossed paths, so many years ago. Back when she had loved him.
She wanted to. She wanted him. Even after all of that, she still wanted him. And that made her feel stupid most of all.
"If anyone is broken, tis I." her words came a whisper, unheard to all but the two of them, their darkened room making it seem as if suddenly, the words of others didn't matter... that there was only the two of them in this universe. "But I only have myself to blame. I chose to love you, and that was my first mistake. I chose to trust you, and that was my second."
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She knew, logic dictated that Dion would join the ranks of young trainee soldiers, if not in proper fights, then at least to start the training young so he would develop the appropriate muscle and mass by the time he joined his own regiment. But the mother in her denied that, wanted to delay the growth of her young boy as long as she could. It was a pain only a parent could understand, but made ten times worst for she could not share her hopes and fears for her only son with anyone.
At least, no one around her.
When he gripped and yanked her forward, Evras could not deny that surprised squeal that she emitted. His hands around her waist felt punishing, and where they had once felt familiar, welcome even, now they only instilled fear in her. How did they become such strangers, when his touch was once the most wanted thing Evras had in her life?
His proximity, curse him, still made her heart race. The way the heat curled on the surface of her skin, made her heart go erratic, make the warmth curl the furthest parts of her toes, in places heat would steal. The words 'witch' hurt her, each time. That he would believe the words of the masses over his own wife, the wife he had promised to cherish and love regardless of where and what had happened. Vows that were lies 11 years in the making.
She leaned back as far as his vise grip around her waist would let, trying to ignore the way she shivered when his lips ghosted across her cheek, the hot breathe making her palms sweat. His gaze made her nervous - they always had, but this time it made the words she wanted so desperately to say, remain stuck in her throat. If she didn't know better, she would've said he was the witch, that he managed to maintain her loyalty despite doing nothing of that sort himself.
Old? Scarred? Broken? Hardly. Evras would've laughed at his admission. In a time where they still had love, she would've held his face in her palms, reassured him that in no way was he old, scarred or broken. That he was perfect in her eyes, strong as he was in protecting his loved ones, and that the years had been kind on him.
But he scared her. Her lips trembled, her eyes squeezed shut when their foreheads met, and the tears spilled out of her closed eyes, down her cheek, to fall on his arm. Hot, filled with her pain, and a reminder of all they had lost. Her hands had, in the tussle, found themselves splayed on his chest - the same chest she remembered where her hand laid the first time they had crossed paths, so many years ago. Back when she had loved him.
She wanted to. She wanted him. Even after all of that, she still wanted him. And that made her feel stupid most of all.
"If anyone is broken, tis I." her words came a whisper, unheard to all but the two of them, their darkened room making it seem as if suddenly, the words of others didn't matter... that there was only the two of them in this universe. "But I only have myself to blame. I chose to love you, and that was my first mistake. I chose to trust you, and that was my second."
She knew, logic dictated that Dion would join the ranks of young trainee soldiers, if not in proper fights, then at least to start the training young so he would develop the appropriate muscle and mass by the time he joined his own regiment. But the mother in her denied that, wanted to delay the growth of her young boy as long as she could. It was a pain only a parent could understand, but made ten times worst for she could not share her hopes and fears for her only son with anyone.
At least, no one around her.
When he gripped and yanked her forward, Evras could not deny that surprised squeal that she emitted. His hands around her waist felt punishing, and where they had once felt familiar, welcome even, now they only instilled fear in her. How did they become such strangers, when his touch was once the most wanted thing Evras had in her life?
His proximity, curse him, still made her heart race. The way the heat curled on the surface of her skin, made her heart go erratic, make the warmth curl the furthest parts of her toes, in places heat would steal. The words 'witch' hurt her, each time. That he would believe the words of the masses over his own wife, the wife he had promised to cherish and love regardless of where and what had happened. Vows that were lies 11 years in the making.
She leaned back as far as his vise grip around her waist would let, trying to ignore the way she shivered when his lips ghosted across her cheek, the hot breathe making her palms sweat. His gaze made her nervous - they always had, but this time it made the words she wanted so desperately to say, remain stuck in her throat. If she didn't know better, she would've said he was the witch, that he managed to maintain her loyalty despite doing nothing of that sort himself.
Old? Scarred? Broken? Hardly. Evras would've laughed at his admission. In a time where they still had love, she would've held his face in her palms, reassured him that in no way was he old, scarred or broken. That he was perfect in her eyes, strong as he was in protecting his loved ones, and that the years had been kind on him.
But he scared her. Her lips trembled, her eyes squeezed shut when their foreheads met, and the tears spilled out of her closed eyes, down her cheek, to fall on his arm. Hot, filled with her pain, and a reminder of all they had lost. Her hands had, in the tussle, found themselves splayed on his chest - the same chest she remembered where her hand laid the first time they had crossed paths, so many years ago. Back when she had loved him.
She wanted to. She wanted him. Even after all of that, she still wanted him. And that made her feel stupid most of all.
"If anyone is broken, tis I." her words came a whisper, unheard to all but the two of them, their darkened room making it seem as if suddenly, the words of others didn't matter... that there was only the two of them in this universe. "But I only have myself to blame. I chose to love you, and that was my first mistake. I chose to trust you, and that was my second."
The tears that dropped upon his arm drew his attention for a moment, and he looked down with a blurry gaze as they rolled free from his skin before bringing his eyes back to hers. Her hands resting on his chest burned through his chiton and he recalled a time not so far away when they had touched like this before, and as the drink made his head spin slightly he closed his eyes and leaned into her hands, wrapping his arms around her waist instead of gripping her. Zanon lay his head against her chest, breathing her in and reminding himself of how soft and wonderful her bosom was to nap against.
"I didn't choose to love you. I had no choice. Whether it was a spell or...just you. And I love you still."
His words were muted against her skin, hands sliding along her curves that were fuller now than when they had first met, a child and the years doing nothing to mar her beauty in any way. And now he was speaking without fully thinking, telling her he loved her still, when all he had intended was...what had he intended? He was finding it hard to focus on exactly what was happening around him. Zan had always been a lighter weight than Vangelis, but perhaps the drink combined with his general lack of sleep was making him more susceptible than usual. If Evras had wanted, she could have plunged his knife into his own heart and in that moment he would have done little to resist.
Blinking up at her, Zanon cupped her face between both of his hands and drew their lips together, almost testing to see if the connection between them physically was still there. Strong as ever, his desire and feelings came surging back, and he let his hands fall, yanking off the chiton that was now inhibiting him more than he wanted. And then once again as he moved the scar gave a painful twinge and before he could surge back to her lips he stopped himself, a defeated expression on his face as he sat back, covering himself with the blankets.
"To bed, wife."
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The tears that dropped upon his arm drew his attention for a moment, and he looked down with a blurry gaze as they rolled free from his skin before bringing his eyes back to hers. Her hands resting on his chest burned through his chiton and he recalled a time not so far away when they had touched like this before, and as the drink made his head spin slightly he closed his eyes and leaned into her hands, wrapping his arms around her waist instead of gripping her. Zanon lay his head against her chest, breathing her in and reminding himself of how soft and wonderful her bosom was to nap against.
"I didn't choose to love you. I had no choice. Whether it was a spell or...just you. And I love you still."
His words were muted against her skin, hands sliding along her curves that were fuller now than when they had first met, a child and the years doing nothing to mar her beauty in any way. And now he was speaking without fully thinking, telling her he loved her still, when all he had intended was...what had he intended? He was finding it hard to focus on exactly what was happening around him. Zan had always been a lighter weight than Vangelis, but perhaps the drink combined with his general lack of sleep was making him more susceptible than usual. If Evras had wanted, she could have plunged his knife into his own heart and in that moment he would have done little to resist.
Blinking up at her, Zanon cupped her face between both of his hands and drew their lips together, almost testing to see if the connection between them physically was still there. Strong as ever, his desire and feelings came surging back, and he let his hands fall, yanking off the chiton that was now inhibiting him more than he wanted. And then once again as he moved the scar gave a painful twinge and before he could surge back to her lips he stopped himself, a defeated expression on his face as he sat back, covering himself with the blankets.
"To bed, wife."
The tears that dropped upon his arm drew his attention for a moment, and he looked down with a blurry gaze as they rolled free from his skin before bringing his eyes back to hers. Her hands resting on his chest burned through his chiton and he recalled a time not so far away when they had touched like this before, and as the drink made his head spin slightly he closed his eyes and leaned into her hands, wrapping his arms around her waist instead of gripping her. Zanon lay his head against her chest, breathing her in and reminding himself of how soft and wonderful her bosom was to nap against.
"I didn't choose to love you. I had no choice. Whether it was a spell or...just you. And I love you still."
His words were muted against her skin, hands sliding along her curves that were fuller now than when they had first met, a child and the years doing nothing to mar her beauty in any way. And now he was speaking without fully thinking, telling her he loved her still, when all he had intended was...what had he intended? He was finding it hard to focus on exactly what was happening around him. Zan had always been a lighter weight than Vangelis, but perhaps the drink combined with his general lack of sleep was making him more susceptible than usual. If Evras had wanted, she could have plunged his knife into his own heart and in that moment he would have done little to resist.
Blinking up at her, Zanon cupped her face between both of his hands and drew their lips together, almost testing to see if the connection between them physically was still there. Strong as ever, his desire and feelings came surging back, and he let his hands fall, yanking off the chiton that was now inhibiting him more than he wanted. And then once again as he moved the scar gave a painful twinge and before he could surge back to her lips he stopped himself, a defeated expression on his face as he sat back, covering himself with the blankets.
"To bed, wife."
Her heart skipped a beat at his words. He loved her still? But if he did, why did he treat her this way? Fling words that hurt her more then any knife or dagger could? Against her will, the choked sob finally found its way to escape her tight throat, when he lay his head against her bosoms, a position that was so familiar yet so lost to them after the many years spent estranged. She ran her fingers through his dark, mussed up hair, remembering how she used to hold him close as they explored each other's desires, and indulged the other's whims.
"Then why... Why, Zanon?" she asked, her tone broken, a question she did not expect an answer from.
Feeling his fingers skim her skin, the other side of her chiton fell askew, and the material was now held up only by Zanon holding his head there. It fell entirely, displaying her bare breasts for all to see when he looked up, but the tears that burned her cheeks as they fell distracted Evras too much for her to realize how indecent she now looked.
Like a magnet as they had always been, she went when he dragged their lips together, and her sob broke through their kiss, when she tasted his familiar scent. The musky, male flavor of his that she remembered, cherished, missed and loved. Her palms slide up from where they were on his chest to wind around his neck, holding him close, heat blossoming between them when his hands yanked off the remaining chiton, only to leave her naked before him. She pressed her body to him instinctively, her fingers pulling at his chiton, missing the feel of his skin against her, the only thing she knew how with her husband.
But he stopped himself.
And like another cut to join the others he had placed on her heart, he moved back, and almost immediately cut off all intimacy and connection they had by covering himself up with the blankets. Illuminated by the light of the moon, the hurt expression on her face, that flashed in her eyes, was something Evras could not cover. Holding her hand to her chest, in between her still uncovered breasts, her bottom lip trembled as she spoke, "You don't love me. You don't destroy the people you love."
With that anguished words, she pulled her chiton up to cover herself as best as she could again, and started stalking towards the doors of the room, unable to think of sharing a bed with the man who had hurt her more then she could ever imagine.
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Her heart skipped a beat at his words. He loved her still? But if he did, why did he treat her this way? Fling words that hurt her more then any knife or dagger could? Against her will, the choked sob finally found its way to escape her tight throat, when he lay his head against her bosoms, a position that was so familiar yet so lost to them after the many years spent estranged. She ran her fingers through his dark, mussed up hair, remembering how she used to hold him close as they explored each other's desires, and indulged the other's whims.
"Then why... Why, Zanon?" she asked, her tone broken, a question she did not expect an answer from.
Feeling his fingers skim her skin, the other side of her chiton fell askew, and the material was now held up only by Zanon holding his head there. It fell entirely, displaying her bare breasts for all to see when he looked up, but the tears that burned her cheeks as they fell distracted Evras too much for her to realize how indecent she now looked.
Like a magnet as they had always been, she went when he dragged their lips together, and her sob broke through their kiss, when she tasted his familiar scent. The musky, male flavor of his that she remembered, cherished, missed and loved. Her palms slide up from where they were on his chest to wind around his neck, holding him close, heat blossoming between them when his hands yanked off the remaining chiton, only to leave her naked before him. She pressed her body to him instinctively, her fingers pulling at his chiton, missing the feel of his skin against her, the only thing she knew how with her husband.
But he stopped himself.
And like another cut to join the others he had placed on her heart, he moved back, and almost immediately cut off all intimacy and connection they had by covering himself up with the blankets. Illuminated by the light of the moon, the hurt expression on her face, that flashed in her eyes, was something Evras could not cover. Holding her hand to her chest, in between her still uncovered breasts, her bottom lip trembled as she spoke, "You don't love me. You don't destroy the people you love."
With that anguished words, she pulled her chiton up to cover herself as best as she could again, and started stalking towards the doors of the room, unable to think of sharing a bed with the man who had hurt her more then she could ever imagine.
Her heart skipped a beat at his words. He loved her still? But if he did, why did he treat her this way? Fling words that hurt her more then any knife or dagger could? Against her will, the choked sob finally found its way to escape her tight throat, when he lay his head against her bosoms, a position that was so familiar yet so lost to them after the many years spent estranged. She ran her fingers through his dark, mussed up hair, remembering how she used to hold him close as they explored each other's desires, and indulged the other's whims.
"Then why... Why, Zanon?" she asked, her tone broken, a question she did not expect an answer from.
Feeling his fingers skim her skin, the other side of her chiton fell askew, and the material was now held up only by Zanon holding his head there. It fell entirely, displaying her bare breasts for all to see when he looked up, but the tears that burned her cheeks as they fell distracted Evras too much for her to realize how indecent she now looked.
Like a magnet as they had always been, she went when he dragged their lips together, and her sob broke through their kiss, when she tasted his familiar scent. The musky, male flavor of his that she remembered, cherished, missed and loved. Her palms slide up from where they were on his chest to wind around his neck, holding him close, heat blossoming between them when his hands yanked off the remaining chiton, only to leave her naked before him. She pressed her body to him instinctively, her fingers pulling at his chiton, missing the feel of his skin against her, the only thing she knew how with her husband.
But he stopped himself.
And like another cut to join the others he had placed on her heart, he moved back, and almost immediately cut off all intimacy and connection they had by covering himself up with the blankets. Illuminated by the light of the moon, the hurt expression on her face, that flashed in her eyes, was something Evras could not cover. Holding her hand to her chest, in between her still uncovered breasts, her bottom lip trembled as she spoke, "You don't love me. You don't destroy the people you love."
With that anguished words, she pulled her chiton up to cover herself as best as she could again, and started stalking towards the doors of the room, unable to think of sharing a bed with the man who had hurt her more then she could ever imagine.
Why? He wasn't sure he had the right answer to that question. Certainly not the one she wanted to hear. The prince shook his head slowly, stripping the short chiton from his own frame and tossing it aside before falling back on his elbows. His head was spinning, and his body was reacting strongly to the proximity they had just had, as it always did when the veil of anger he put on was compromised. The anger that kept him from feeling the undeniable love, passion, utter need he had for her at all times.
"Evras.."
As she stormed toward the door Zanon ruffled a frustrated hand through his hair, turning and throwing the closest thing he could find to stop her before exiting, the goblet he'd been drinking from splashing wine over the door way and her if she didn't get out of the way in time. He didn't want her to leave. Partially for the sake of their guest, partially for his own. Perhaps he should tempt a witch's curse, or test it. If he could prove she was not a witch...or prove that she was...his life would become far easier. If he could only know. One way or another.
"Evras!"
This time it was a shout that accompanied the throwing of the goblet and he glowered through the light of the lamp and moon at his wife.
"Get in bed. Wife."
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Why? He wasn't sure he had the right answer to that question. Certainly not the one she wanted to hear. The prince shook his head slowly, stripping the short chiton from his own frame and tossing it aside before falling back on his elbows. His head was spinning, and his body was reacting strongly to the proximity they had just had, as it always did when the veil of anger he put on was compromised. The anger that kept him from feeling the undeniable love, passion, utter need he had for her at all times.
"Evras.."
As she stormed toward the door Zanon ruffled a frustrated hand through his hair, turning and throwing the closest thing he could find to stop her before exiting, the goblet he'd been drinking from splashing wine over the door way and her if she didn't get out of the way in time. He didn't want her to leave. Partially for the sake of their guest, partially for his own. Perhaps he should tempt a witch's curse, or test it. If he could prove she was not a witch...or prove that she was...his life would become far easier. If he could only know. One way or another.
"Evras!"
This time it was a shout that accompanied the throwing of the goblet and he glowered through the light of the lamp and moon at his wife.
"Get in bed. Wife."
Why? He wasn't sure he had the right answer to that question. Certainly not the one she wanted to hear. The prince shook his head slowly, stripping the short chiton from his own frame and tossing it aside before falling back on his elbows. His head was spinning, and his body was reacting strongly to the proximity they had just had, as it always did when the veil of anger he put on was compromised. The anger that kept him from feeling the undeniable love, passion, utter need he had for her at all times.
"Evras.."
As she stormed toward the door Zanon ruffled a frustrated hand through his hair, turning and throwing the closest thing he could find to stop her before exiting, the goblet he'd been drinking from splashing wine over the door way and her if she didn't get out of the way in time. He didn't want her to leave. Partially for the sake of their guest, partially for his own. Perhaps he should tempt a witch's curse, or test it. If he could prove she was not a witch...or prove that she was...his life would become far easier. If he could only know. One way or another.
"Evras!"
This time it was a shout that accompanied the throwing of the goblet and he glowered through the light of the lamp and moon at his wife.
"Get in bed. Wife."
His first call of her name froze her steps, her hands stil clutching at her chiton to hold it in place as she froze at the doorstep. Instinctively, the girl turned, fires of anger blazing in her eyes that mingled with the tears of both anger and hurt, occasionally spilling out on to her cheeks. How ironic was it, that the very same man who gave her that much joy once a long time ago, was the exact same man who now broke her heart almost every other day, just by looking at her.
But what angered her the most, was how her skin still ached for his touch, even if she was supposed to hate him now. Her own body betrayed her.
She had turned, intending to storm out of the room as she had threathened, for she really could not stomach staying in the same bed as him, when a loud crash made her freeze again. Startled enough to jump and then stare at the goblet which had crashed into the side of the doorway, missing her head by inches, the breathe that had caught came again in a surprised gasp, her shoulders tight at the shock.
"Get in bed, wife."
He was angry. Eleven years of marriage was more then enough for Evras to be able to pick out the signs of his anger without looking at him. The thrown goblet which could have concussed her had he not been inebrieted to mess with his aim, was enough of a display of anger, but if at all she needed confirmation, his tone was enough.
Pivoting on her heel, her lips were pressed in a thin line as she glared at her husband, meeting his glower with one of her own. "Fine." As if making a show of it, she peeled off her chiton, letting it fall off her shoulders to reveal the pair of creamy breasts that had remained hidden. Taking two steps closer to the bed, Evras proceeded to shimmy out of the remaining material, before letting it fall to the ground. Without even looking at her husband, she walked to the side he vacated, and glared at him. "But you do not lay a finger on me, husband.." she hissed, slipping in between the sheets. "I have no wish to be sullied by the same fingers that had touched others."
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His first call of her name froze her steps, her hands stil clutching at her chiton to hold it in place as she froze at the doorstep. Instinctively, the girl turned, fires of anger blazing in her eyes that mingled with the tears of both anger and hurt, occasionally spilling out on to her cheeks. How ironic was it, that the very same man who gave her that much joy once a long time ago, was the exact same man who now broke her heart almost every other day, just by looking at her.
But what angered her the most, was how her skin still ached for his touch, even if she was supposed to hate him now. Her own body betrayed her.
She had turned, intending to storm out of the room as she had threathened, for she really could not stomach staying in the same bed as him, when a loud crash made her freeze again. Startled enough to jump and then stare at the goblet which had crashed into the side of the doorway, missing her head by inches, the breathe that had caught came again in a surprised gasp, her shoulders tight at the shock.
"Get in bed, wife."
He was angry. Eleven years of marriage was more then enough for Evras to be able to pick out the signs of his anger without looking at him. The thrown goblet which could have concussed her had he not been inebrieted to mess with his aim, was enough of a display of anger, but if at all she needed confirmation, his tone was enough.
Pivoting on her heel, her lips were pressed in a thin line as she glared at her husband, meeting his glower with one of her own. "Fine." As if making a show of it, she peeled off her chiton, letting it fall off her shoulders to reveal the pair of creamy breasts that had remained hidden. Taking two steps closer to the bed, Evras proceeded to shimmy out of the remaining material, before letting it fall to the ground. Without even looking at her husband, she walked to the side he vacated, and glared at him. "But you do not lay a finger on me, husband.." she hissed, slipping in between the sheets. "I have no wish to be sullied by the same fingers that had touched others."
His first call of her name froze her steps, her hands stil clutching at her chiton to hold it in place as she froze at the doorstep. Instinctively, the girl turned, fires of anger blazing in her eyes that mingled with the tears of both anger and hurt, occasionally spilling out on to her cheeks. How ironic was it, that the very same man who gave her that much joy once a long time ago, was the exact same man who now broke her heart almost every other day, just by looking at her.
But what angered her the most, was how her skin still ached for his touch, even if she was supposed to hate him now. Her own body betrayed her.
She had turned, intending to storm out of the room as she had threathened, for she really could not stomach staying in the same bed as him, when a loud crash made her freeze again. Startled enough to jump and then stare at the goblet which had crashed into the side of the doorway, missing her head by inches, the breathe that had caught came again in a surprised gasp, her shoulders tight at the shock.
"Get in bed, wife."
He was angry. Eleven years of marriage was more then enough for Evras to be able to pick out the signs of his anger without looking at him. The thrown goblet which could have concussed her had he not been inebrieted to mess with his aim, was enough of a display of anger, but if at all she needed confirmation, his tone was enough.
Pivoting on her heel, her lips were pressed in a thin line as she glared at her husband, meeting his glower with one of her own. "Fine." As if making a show of it, she peeled off her chiton, letting it fall off her shoulders to reveal the pair of creamy breasts that had remained hidden. Taking two steps closer to the bed, Evras proceeded to shimmy out of the remaining material, before letting it fall to the ground. Without even looking at her husband, she walked to the side he vacated, and glared at him. "But you do not lay a finger on me, husband.." she hissed, slipping in between the sheets. "I have no wish to be sullied by the same fingers that had touched others."
His eyes focused on her body as she shed the chiton, taking in every curve and dip and dimple of her as she walked toward him. In days past, and indeed even now his body reacted, he would have coiled as if to spring upon her, take her down to bed until they were thoroughly exhausted and satisfied. There had been a time when he could do that, when he was a whole enough man for that sort of activity, not a scarred creature afraid of his own family. Even now the scar on his hip twinged as he tore his eyes away, allowing her to climb in bed beside him and make her threats.
Zanon gritted his teeth as she threw the insults at him, squeezing his eyes closed and trying to relax enough to sleep. It only lasted a moment before he was turning, moving quickly and bracing himself up on his elbows above her. Their chests touched as he looked down at her, making a show of keeping hands and fingers that she so despised away from every inch of her and instead using his elbows to pin them both in place. He was silent for a long moment, measuring his breaths so the anger and heat did not overtake him entirely. As much as he felt conflicted by her presence he would never take her in fury, never harm her intentionally. He couldn't. She was still his, still the mother of his son, still to be protected even if she hated him.
"There was a time these hands you hate made you happy. And time even more when I didn't need to use them at all..."
Zanon looked down at her for a long moment, breathing her in as he all but laid atop her the wound that felt as if it had never properly healed twinging in reminder of what she had done to him.
"I nearly died...all because of you. I couldn't focus...couldn't think of anyone but you. And I nearly became more of a cripple than I am."
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His eyes focused on her body as she shed the chiton, taking in every curve and dip and dimple of her as she walked toward him. In days past, and indeed even now his body reacted, he would have coiled as if to spring upon her, take her down to bed until they were thoroughly exhausted and satisfied. There had been a time when he could do that, when he was a whole enough man for that sort of activity, not a scarred creature afraid of his own family. Even now the scar on his hip twinged as he tore his eyes away, allowing her to climb in bed beside him and make her threats.
Zanon gritted his teeth as she threw the insults at him, squeezing his eyes closed and trying to relax enough to sleep. It only lasted a moment before he was turning, moving quickly and bracing himself up on his elbows above her. Their chests touched as he looked down at her, making a show of keeping hands and fingers that she so despised away from every inch of her and instead using his elbows to pin them both in place. He was silent for a long moment, measuring his breaths so the anger and heat did not overtake him entirely. As much as he felt conflicted by her presence he would never take her in fury, never harm her intentionally. He couldn't. She was still his, still the mother of his son, still to be protected even if she hated him.
"There was a time these hands you hate made you happy. And time even more when I didn't need to use them at all..."
Zanon looked down at her for a long moment, breathing her in as he all but laid atop her the wound that felt as if it had never properly healed twinging in reminder of what she had done to him.
"I nearly died...all because of you. I couldn't focus...couldn't think of anyone but you. And I nearly became more of a cripple than I am."
His eyes focused on her body as she shed the chiton, taking in every curve and dip and dimple of her as she walked toward him. In days past, and indeed even now his body reacted, he would have coiled as if to spring upon her, take her down to bed until they were thoroughly exhausted and satisfied. There had been a time when he could do that, when he was a whole enough man for that sort of activity, not a scarred creature afraid of his own family. Even now the scar on his hip twinged as he tore his eyes away, allowing her to climb in bed beside him and make her threats.
Zanon gritted his teeth as she threw the insults at him, squeezing his eyes closed and trying to relax enough to sleep. It only lasted a moment before he was turning, moving quickly and bracing himself up on his elbows above her. Their chests touched as he looked down at her, making a show of keeping hands and fingers that she so despised away from every inch of her and instead using his elbows to pin them both in place. He was silent for a long moment, measuring his breaths so the anger and heat did not overtake him entirely. As much as he felt conflicted by her presence he would never take her in fury, never harm her intentionally. He couldn't. She was still his, still the mother of his son, still to be protected even if she hated him.
"There was a time these hands you hate made you happy. And time even more when I didn't need to use them at all..."
Zanon looked down at her for a long moment, breathing her in as he all but laid atop her the wound that felt as if it had never properly healed twinging in reminder of what she had done to him.
"I nearly died...all because of you. I couldn't focus...couldn't think of anyone but you. And I nearly became more of a cripple than I am."
The silence spread throughout the room, and Evras squeezed her eyes shut her eyes clutching the sheets to her bare body. She slept naked on regular days, and it should be no difference now. But with Zanon on the exact same bed, she suddenly felt acutely aware of the space that was between them. While only a hand's breadth away, it might as well have been a chasm, for all the distance between them.
Fully intending to sleep, the sudden shuffle of sheets made her eyes crack open again, and when his body suddenly flipped around to brace himself over her. Evras instinctively pressed herself deeper into the bed, the adrenaline and shock of his yelling and throwing of the chalice at her earlier fresh in her memory. But more then that, it was not fear that made her breathe catch. Through the fear and the obvious hatred she displayed to her husband, Zanon had always manage to stir something within her. The heat rolling off him served as an instigator to her own heat swelling within, and the feel of their chests pressed together only made the beat of her heart go erratic.
With the close proximity, her eyes were instinctively staring at his, wide eyed and frozen in place, locked there by the elbows which walled her in. Silence matching his, their breaths mingled together in the now minute space that separated them. Where was the husband she loved? Despite her blue-green eyes searching his while he spoke, she didn't know what she found in the dark depths of his eyes.
Shock registered in her eyes. Because of her? She had nursed him back, as best as she could. Yet all she got in return was a cold shoulder, and estrangement from her husband. Up till today, Evras did not know what she had done wrong. But as if by instinct, her finger reached out to brush gently, like a skittish dear, the wound which she knew exactly where it was located. Her heart hurt when she touched it, knowing full well that while all her bluster of hating him, she would be worried to death if something were to happen to him. "I wielded no sword, Zanon." she murmured her response, her eyes falling again.
"You are no cripple anymore then I am should anything have happened... for I would have been crippled by your loss." In that split second, Evras had been brought back to the time her husband had returned injured and in a dark place, a place she had yet to find him from. At the time, she had been thankful he had returned alive, clueless as of then as to what would become of their previously blissful relationship. And now, she was reminded again of the time.
Letting her fingers fall from the scar in which she had let her lingering touch stay on, Evras turned her gaze back to Zanon, the mix of emotions she felt all swirling in her clear gaze. Pain, confusion, love, hate, desire, mistrust.... they were all bundled together, the kind that made Evras's head spin, clouding her decisions. She was supposed to hate him, she knew, for all that he's done to her. But in that moment, all Evras could do, was bring both her palms to his cheeks, letting it slide up to his head before she dragged him towards her, closing her eyes as she let their lips meet again.
Because at the end of the day, Evras wanted nothing more then to love him.
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The silence spread throughout the room, and Evras squeezed her eyes shut her eyes clutching the sheets to her bare body. She slept naked on regular days, and it should be no difference now. But with Zanon on the exact same bed, she suddenly felt acutely aware of the space that was between them. While only a hand's breadth away, it might as well have been a chasm, for all the distance between them.
Fully intending to sleep, the sudden shuffle of sheets made her eyes crack open again, and when his body suddenly flipped around to brace himself over her. Evras instinctively pressed herself deeper into the bed, the adrenaline and shock of his yelling and throwing of the chalice at her earlier fresh in her memory. But more then that, it was not fear that made her breathe catch. Through the fear and the obvious hatred she displayed to her husband, Zanon had always manage to stir something within her. The heat rolling off him served as an instigator to her own heat swelling within, and the feel of their chests pressed together only made the beat of her heart go erratic.
With the close proximity, her eyes were instinctively staring at his, wide eyed and frozen in place, locked there by the elbows which walled her in. Silence matching his, their breaths mingled together in the now minute space that separated them. Where was the husband she loved? Despite her blue-green eyes searching his while he spoke, she didn't know what she found in the dark depths of his eyes.
Shock registered in her eyes. Because of her? She had nursed him back, as best as she could. Yet all she got in return was a cold shoulder, and estrangement from her husband. Up till today, Evras did not know what she had done wrong. But as if by instinct, her finger reached out to brush gently, like a skittish dear, the wound which she knew exactly where it was located. Her heart hurt when she touched it, knowing full well that while all her bluster of hating him, she would be worried to death if something were to happen to him. "I wielded no sword, Zanon." she murmured her response, her eyes falling again.
"You are no cripple anymore then I am should anything have happened... for I would have been crippled by your loss." In that split second, Evras had been brought back to the time her husband had returned injured and in a dark place, a place she had yet to find him from. At the time, she had been thankful he had returned alive, clueless as of then as to what would become of their previously blissful relationship. And now, she was reminded again of the time.
Letting her fingers fall from the scar in which she had let her lingering touch stay on, Evras turned her gaze back to Zanon, the mix of emotions she felt all swirling in her clear gaze. Pain, confusion, love, hate, desire, mistrust.... they were all bundled together, the kind that made Evras's head spin, clouding her decisions. She was supposed to hate him, she knew, for all that he's done to her. But in that moment, all Evras could do, was bring both her palms to his cheeks, letting it slide up to his head before she dragged him towards her, closing her eyes as she let their lips meet again.
Because at the end of the day, Evras wanted nothing more then to love him.
The silence spread throughout the room, and Evras squeezed her eyes shut her eyes clutching the sheets to her bare body. She slept naked on regular days, and it should be no difference now. But with Zanon on the exact same bed, she suddenly felt acutely aware of the space that was between them. While only a hand's breadth away, it might as well have been a chasm, for all the distance between them.
Fully intending to sleep, the sudden shuffle of sheets made her eyes crack open again, and when his body suddenly flipped around to brace himself over her. Evras instinctively pressed herself deeper into the bed, the adrenaline and shock of his yelling and throwing of the chalice at her earlier fresh in her memory. But more then that, it was not fear that made her breathe catch. Through the fear and the obvious hatred she displayed to her husband, Zanon had always manage to stir something within her. The heat rolling off him served as an instigator to her own heat swelling within, and the feel of their chests pressed together only made the beat of her heart go erratic.
With the close proximity, her eyes were instinctively staring at his, wide eyed and frozen in place, locked there by the elbows which walled her in. Silence matching his, their breaths mingled together in the now minute space that separated them. Where was the husband she loved? Despite her blue-green eyes searching his while he spoke, she didn't know what she found in the dark depths of his eyes.
Shock registered in her eyes. Because of her? She had nursed him back, as best as she could. Yet all she got in return was a cold shoulder, and estrangement from her husband. Up till today, Evras did not know what she had done wrong. But as if by instinct, her finger reached out to brush gently, like a skittish dear, the wound which she knew exactly where it was located. Her heart hurt when she touched it, knowing full well that while all her bluster of hating him, she would be worried to death if something were to happen to him. "I wielded no sword, Zanon." she murmured her response, her eyes falling again.
"You are no cripple anymore then I am should anything have happened... for I would have been crippled by your loss." In that split second, Evras had been brought back to the time her husband had returned injured and in a dark place, a place she had yet to find him from. At the time, she had been thankful he had returned alive, clueless as of then as to what would become of their previously blissful relationship. And now, she was reminded again of the time.
Letting her fingers fall from the scar in which she had let her lingering touch stay on, Evras turned her gaze back to Zanon, the mix of emotions she felt all swirling in her clear gaze. Pain, confusion, love, hate, desire, mistrust.... they were all bundled together, the kind that made Evras's head spin, clouding her decisions. She was supposed to hate him, she knew, for all that he's done to her. But in that moment, all Evras could do, was bring both her palms to his cheeks, letting it slide up to his head before she dragged him towards her, closing her eyes as she let their lips meet again.
Because at the end of the day, Evras wanted nothing more then to love him.
