[private] lior;

[Nayl]

I am not afraid... I was born to do this.

”I know,” she whispers in the broad plane of his neck, her breath hot against his skin. Lior has always been there, lingering in the darkness of the cave waiting for her every night. She often curled against his side in the moonlight, but there were also evenings that she was tethered to the responsibilities of her crown. In those times, she would occasionally have Isobell to suppress her loneliness unless the night grew too long, in which case she would return their precious daughter to the cave to rest. ”I know you will always wait for me,” she reiterates as she leans into him, ”but I can’t test your patience much longer.”

Oftentimes, Nayl considered how often he lied in wait, wanting to hold her, but there had always been Nerine. The kingdom had come before anything – everything – but her era will eventually come to an end, and she wants a place to rest her head when that time looms. She can’t expect him to wait another five years, another experience of the seasons before she can entirely devote herself to him, and only him.

A knot forms in her stomach, a lump in her throat.

”Soon,” her reassurance is for both of them, like she needs to remind herself, too. ”Perhaps Isobell,” the thought has been lingering during the period in which Nerine fell silent, no one stepping forward or proving their worth to the crown. She shrugs, the plan not entirely solidified but beginning to slowly cement in the security of her mind.

But it isn’t the idea of their daughter becoming a Queen that scares her now. It’s something far greater and something she has never before admitted. It claws her insides and leaves her heart open and exposed. How did something so withdrawn and cold melt with his compassionate touch? She never wanted this, but it found her and it lulled her into a daze. Once, years ago, she admitted to Magnus that she was forever alone, never to be stricken down by the workings of a heart, but here she is: a victim.

Gliding her lips along his shoulder to his neck, she tries to hide the fluttering of her soul and the sweetness of her smile. ”Lior,” his name – his touch – is a drug to her, so pleasurable and addictive, ”I love you.”

queen of nerine
daughter of covet & myrina