a monster waddles in; Ruthless

[Ruthless]

if you do not have shadows,
you are not in the light

An accident, is it truly that easy? Are even horses like us at risk of contracting a pregnancy? Ruthless makes a note to ask Lilliana later, softening the inner stir of anxiety beginning to rise in her chest.

“Well that must be inconvenient,” she responds absently instead, suddenly wanting to move on and forget about the whole pregnancy thing altogether.

I am not having children. I am not accidently getting pregnant.

Her answer is unsettling, moving a cowardly surrender to a calculated tactic. A weapon even, but Ruthless fell victim to her subjective emotions. And she couldn’t help but wonder if Fiorina is right, that perhaps a surrender to one is a victory to another.

But is that what heroism is? Surrendering for peace instead of fighting for justice?

“Am I mad at her?” She repeats, scoffed at the question but not entirely even sure herself. Is she? Does the constant ache in her heart and drag in her step mean she is angry?

Or has she just come to terms with what life really is?

“No—”, she finishes though her tone still meek and unsure, “—but yes? I am mad at myself.”

Lilliana wouldn’t have offered herself if she hadn’t been fearful for the outcome of Ruth, it had dawned on her after hours of walking back to the safety of her kingdom that evening in the field. Fiorina may have even fought Lilliana if she knew Ruthless could deliver if it came to it.

Ruthless