Nayl takes him into consideration. Underneath his half smiles and dutiful stare, she can see more of what he is, who he is. The scars lining his skin have already told her that he is a warrior, and yet she proposed the question to inject more life and interest into their conversation. He is wise, respectful, amiable, and she knows how informed he must be and how long he must have lived in Beqanna.
There can be so much learned if one simply pays attention.
The roll of her shoulders doesn’t imitate boredom, but more restlessness. The idea of fighting ignites a spark in her soul, one that has been smothered since gaining the throne. Brennen can be useful, she muses, as her fiery eyes trail along his body to his neck to his eyes. ”No Brotherhood? Such a pity.” But she already knew about the tundramen slipping into extinction. Nayl has traveled across this new Beqanna to see what lands have been born from the ashes; alas, there was no brotherhood.
There had been a rather barren land, however.
”Ideally, I would love to fully trust you one day,” she admits casually, ”to know you wouldn’t turn against me.” Because she has already had one turn his back to her and reject her simply because she struggled her one obstacle, because she wasn’t strong enough to touch him and to indulge in his contact. What she has learned is to avoid those that want to fuck her and to break down her walls. She needs to surround herself with strong allies, those who will help raise her instead of break her down.
Yes, she has learned now.
”For now, you could help those interested in learning to fight. There aren’t many,” the momentum the kingdom had upon its creation has since withered, but certainly hasn’t died. She herself may actually be interested in taking part. In reality, her only real fight had been for this herd, to be its Queen. Obviously, she won, but that hasn’t sated the warrior – the monster – inside her. It lurks underneath the surface, waiting patiently to arise once more. There lies a want for more power and strength, and so she steps closer to him. Her gaze slips away to the waves as her thoughts are triggered by the roar of the waves. ”What if we could recreate the Tundra?” Would he then work with her and never against? Would she then be able to build a trust and a formidable ally?
Her curiosity gleams in her pretty face for a fleeting moment, but then is hidden by the steely expression that she has become most notable for.
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