Bree gave a noncommittal shrug at hearing about her long lost aunt. Camielle Lamay was hardly ever mentioned, there weren’t any pictures are her, her father and grandfather never spoke of her and any mention of her would through her grandmother into fits. What little she knew of her came from those few Gem’s who had been her friends. Passing comments of their similarities in looks, stories of their childhood.
Watching Adora get branded sent waves of nausea rolling through Bree’s gut. She couldn’t look past the first letter. Suddenly becoming very fascinated with the wood that made up the walls. Humming softly to herself, she tried to block out the noise coming from Adora’s skin being burned.
Bree jumped as splashes of water covered her from a nearby barrel of water. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the pain had caused Adora to lose control. In no time at all, Adora was done, her brand an angry looking red spot on her chest.
She watch the girl rise and setting down by Kagan’s feet. Knowing there was nothing to be done, nowhere to run to (she checked), Bree approached the chair.
Javem stuck her tools back in the flame and looked at Bree expectantly. Bree reached back and pulled her shirt over her head. Bairing her back and pinning her shirt with her arms to cover her chest. “I’ll need some new shirts,” she whispered dryley, sitting backwards. What little color had been in her face drained away as she did, her hands squeezing the back of the chair tightly.
"Oi right cunt. Wez it be?"
Bree mumbled something that was drowned out by the crackle of the flames in the forge.
Bree cleared her throat “M-my shoulder,” she whispered, hardly any louder than the first time, using her free hand to gesture towards it. She winced as she felt the drakkan woman pinch up her skin and made a grunt of approval. Bree let out a small breath. She didn’t want the brand. Didn’t want to see it. So she put it in a place she’d never be able to look at.
She flinched as a cool wetness flicked across her, her back tense with anticipation. A pause. And then a searing pain. A cry escaped her mouth before she could stop it, jerking her shoulder away.
“Do et again, ‘n I’ll tie you down,”
Tears were streaming down her face as Bree nodded, Sitting up again. The pain had already faded, a faint burning, but it was --
A few seconds later and the burns pain tripled. An irritating growing pain that seemed to get hotter and hotter with each second. Then the second letter was pressed into her back and she screamed.
Bree felt Javem’s weight lift off her, at some point the woman had found it necessary to pin her down in order to keep her still. Bree’s screams had died to weak sobs by that point.
Javem gave some statement about being done and moved away to put her tools up.
“Uh huh,” said Bree, her voice an octave higher as she nodded numbly, a somewhat vacante expression on her face. She stood, her legs trembling. Her first few steps were unsteady. She passed by Kagan and Adora without a second glance and shoved open the door and step outside.
She stood in the sunlight a moment before turning her head and throwing up. Taking a few steps back, she collapsed on the step leading into the shop and curled into a ball, tears spilling down her face.
We have a burn victim. Then she goes outside to puke and cry
"You are MY Bride. But to the rest of Drakka, you are a quick and easy fuck. Had I not been so attentive, you'd likely be missing a few teeth while someone new enjoyed you before coming here. And that is IF I had found you. Do not mistake my insistence on this as a matter of enjoying tormenting you. This is precaution, for your safety and my convenience. Nothing more, nothing less. You will not act like this again or you will...end up with someone like him....”
Bree’s eyes widened as she saw the girl be drug from the premise. Her own hand tightened on Kagan’s as though she expected she needed to hold on, less she be shaken and passed off to the next person. “ I...understand, I’m...just nervous, ” She said softly as they entered the room. In any other situation, with any other person, there would have been a bigger fight. But she didn’t know Kagan well enough to not believe him...and as vain as it might sound, she was very keen on keeping her face the way it was.
The room was little better than the outside and the woman (maybe) inside seemed to match her surroundings perfectly. It was clear she was older and, while clearly not, welcome Kagan in like a son.
It was strange, watching Kagan interact so...normally with someone else. It was so...mundane, almost like he was an actual person. And this drakkan was a person Kagan clearly respected, even as she...drooled on him. Bree wore her painted smile as her insides wiggled with disgusted. Even for a drakkan, this woman was unpleasant.
But she was already in enough trouble for one day and insulting Kagan’s...friends wouldn’t go over well in any setting. Kagan gave the order to introduce themselves and before Bree could open her mouth, Adora started talking.
Bree felt her face reden for the girl. It was clear that the girl had been taught how to make a formal introduction, it was all very by the book, nearly word for word. It was exactly what a well breed girl would do her first time being introduced to ‘high society’. Twelve year old heiresses meeting the wives of business partners. Thirteen year old nobility attending a tea with those from higher up.
Teenagers would smirk behind fans and mothers and aunts would coo and talk about ‘how grown up’ their little girl was. Still a child by every means, but now able to sit still and silent and prettied up to be seen. The rest of the women would start judging, start watching. Sizing the girl up, judging her for her looks, her intellect, her obedience. Would she be a tool or trouble? Would she be invited to exclusive events? Uninvited to key social outings?
Entire futures could be decided on one thing. How long it took their girl to realize that nobody went through all that formality. The real question was, once it was figured out that spending so much time on addressing someone was like when pets had on sweaters and were paraded around, what then did you do?
Did you take the same greeting at your mother? Clearly there was loyalty to family. Depending on the family, that was helpful to reputation or damaging, however, it was the safest choice.
Did you take on the greetings of the older girls, the generation in waiting? Obviously, fitting in was important. You’d do anything to stay with the crowd. Malleable, a tool, something to be used. You’d never be important, but you’d eventually be a voice of many that controlled the tide of the social scene. Never important on your own, but there is power in many.
Or did you take the greeting of another woman. To copy the greeting of an unrelated woman was a power grab, an honor and a challenge. An offence or the greatest compliment. Highest risk, highest rewards. Done by those to be watched. The ones who wanted control, who wanted power. The ones who would rise to the top or ruin families with their failures.
Greetings were important to Gem’s. They’d say much about the person. Like how Adora had been in training for nobility, but it never quite came to head. Although Bree had heard her story, she could have learn the same amount from listening to the girl speak in that moment.
Those were just the greeting in the woman’s circles, then there was the greetings for the men’s circles, if you were trying to court them or not. And then there was the simple act of reading a room and the audience and deciding what to do from there.
Bree had returned to Kagan’s side the moment the hug was broken. Partly to keep herself out of danger, but mostly to ask for forgiveness for her earlier actions. Her arm brushing against his, a simple move, but really the first time she had been proactive towards him, rather than reactive towards his wants. Dislike it as much as she did, there was a faint reasoning to Kagan’s words. And a branding anywhere but the face was starting to sound reasonable. Unpleasant, but reasonable. “ Good morning Javem,” Bree kept her smile in place, body relaxed. “Her name is Adorabella, and I’m Aubree Lamey,” she said simply, nodding towards the female drakkan. Keeping her words short and to the point. There was time to talk and there was time to give answers.
Kagan 1; Bree 0. A monologue on introductions. Bree introducing herself and Adora
“The monsters sense a trap, meals rarely ever come so easily to their mouths. Tossed in by a fellow hunter. Would you be so keen to shut your mouth if it were you? The monster in the skin of a tinier monster gives an order
“Let the coitus commence, to the chamber of pleasures! And, by that I mean, take them to my tent,”
“And it gives the monsters purpose, enough so they drag them up from the-'
A calloused hand clamped itself hard over Rya’s mouth, silencing her, although she couldn’t recall the exact moment she’d started talking, sensing its absence more than its presences.
The mud was deep, yanking at the shoes more created for a life inside than out, staining the pretty dress of Salazar’s Gem. The shoes were lost, but it hardly mattered. One of the monsters decided her pace was too slow, and settled her upon his shoulders. Like a hunted and killed animal.
Durn had hunted many animals and had fewer horses. The shoulders of his shirts were alway red and brown and would never wash clean. Stained forever and always.
Sometimes the meat would be full of bugs. Living there before the creature died, eating away at its living corpse and spoiling what ever potential the creature had. Durn’s raged away rose to the top when he was forced to toss his spoiled work. But the tiny bugs couldn’t be hurt, unlike other tiny things. They were numerous and not worth the effort of squishing. Tiny white worms crawling in ears and eyes and nose. Eating at insides and outsides.
Until nothing remained. The meat was dangerous. Invisible eggs stuck on fingers. That is all it took before you became a living corpse and you wouldn’t know until you died.
The soul of Drakka itself seemed to be in those small worms.
Shoes turned out to be a non issue, as the next time her feet touched the ground, it was on the soft, prickly fur that lined the floor of a large tent.
But still, having shoes would be better. And it was that girl's fault she didn’t have one. Her and her stupid words. Words, Rya thought, that belong spat back in her face.
“You coward, So timid are you that you grovel at the feet of the bear just to escape the fox? Yes, there are no safe places in Drakka, and now we die for your lust," There was blood in the tent. Stains every now and then.
Because blood never washes out. Not ever. Not when it is a tribute to a victory. Staines upon stains as trophies to remind the creature of every strike that made it.
“Well don’t my blushing brides look ravishing,” The monster of monsters returns. He knows why he is there and so do they.
Why hide behind other words? “Ravagers ravishing recklessly,”
The face he made...he didn’t like that. “Well, the real prize first."
The stupid girl got carried off to the bed. There would be blood. More blood more trophies. There didn’t have to be blood, but there would be. Every day at first. Then only sometimes.
The furs covered everywhere. Furs from animals. Furs from the infected. She could see the invisible eggs on every strand of fur. Perhaps the parasites brought pain. There was enough screaming. Perhaps the animals were begging for death. Or perhaps it brought peace. Maybe the worms didn’t let suffering happen. A path to peace. The eggs grew and hatched in her hand, covering her hand with white bodies, filling like an outpouring of rice. Like snow, a room of snow. Screaming snow, crying snow.
The bugs were gone when she opened her eyes. As was Rynek. A slow hiccupping breath could be heard from the center of the furs. She could be dying, but she isn’t dead yet. Rya thought. Suffering forever would be unkind. One of Rynek’s trunks had been left half open. Filled to the top with knives, swords and other things with names.
Rya pulled out on of the sharpest blades she could find. It would be less painful this way. Quicker. One and then one to follow. Sliding the silver leash off her waist, she left it in the trunk as payment for the knife she took. A shadow of the chain was left in its’ place a criss crossing pattern of bruises across her stomach.
A commotion could be heard outside. A monster returning no doubt.
Rya crept towards the door, the knife tightly held in her hand.
She couldn’t kill a drakkan as easily as a wounded gem, but it would cause her death no doubt. No more suffering, perhaps Lienna would follow on her own afterwards.
Rynek walked in the door and the knife vanished.
“Whose idea was it to let you play with the sharp objects?” It wasn’t the voice of the monster.
“Oh...it’s you,” said Rya looking at Azlion, as though she was not surprised to see him there.
“Are you alright little Api? If that scum Lord has harmed you, I promise he has paid dearly for it.”
She gave a noncommittal shrug as Azlion pulled Lienna from the pile of fur. Before leading outside.
There was meat everywhere. Enough to feed a village for an entire winter.
She wanted to check for the parasites. To see the bugs devour the monsters. But...some things were more important.
“Ever ridden a horse before Rya? If not, today is your lucky day. Come along, we’re going home.”
The ride through the city was far more enjoyable than the dragging from before. Her horse stayed close to Azilon’s as though it had been trained to do so. But she was still alone...on a horse.
They approached a vaguely familiar building, yet, alarmingly, Azilon headed into it.
“This isn’t my home. I don’t live here. You said I was going home,” Said Rya, stopping the horse short of entering the estate grounds.
So there might be some bugs. Then Rya decides to kill Lienna in a suicide/murder, but Az shows up and offers her a pony. So you know...choices
It wasn’t as though Bree always got her way back home, just when it mattered. But what she wasn’t used to was being so casually dismissed. Bree’s lips tightened into a thin line on her face as she stood, biting back the argumentative remark that had already formed in her mind. But, wisdom rang threw, she chose not to comment anymore on Kagan’s plan for them, instead choosing to follow silently as he lead them out the door.
The city was vastly different in the glory of the morning than the mud choked streets of last night. The streets were filled with drakken. Vendors filled small side streets where wares of every type were being pushing on everyone who passed by. Most of them were filled with items from Drakka, something rarely seen back home, but here it was plentiful. Ever once in a while, they would pass something cleary gem in origin. A hollow filling would fill her every time they passed such an object. A ping of loneliness and of missing home.
All the while it felt as though she was being watched. Not by Kagan, who had been keeping annoyingly close to her, his hands always touching, brushing and finding reasons to hold her and bring her closer. But by someone or something that seem to constantly dance in her peripheral vision. Always there and always just out of sight.
In very little time, Kagan lead them to an old, rundown building. Had Bree been walking on her own, she wouldn’t have paid the building the slightest bit of attention, assuming it to be condemned. The closer the trio got to the shop, the more the air was filled with the scent of burning meat. And, knowing what lay beyond the room, the smell made her stomach roll.
Kagan was able to make it to the door before Bree’s resolve died. Digging her feet into the sand, she was able to pulling her arm out of the loose hold that Kagan had on her. “K-kagan, just.. Wait, please,” there was an edge of desperation in her voice now as she shook her head. “Please, No, Please don’t….do this,”
“You’ve missed it. But I can make an exception for once. Varzar!”
There hadn’t been anyway to tell the time in the dark windowless room. No natural sunlight to mark the passage of time, the room was effectively soundproof as well. But now outside, Xae could feel that the desert air held a coolness and the shadows in the courtyard were still long in the early morning sun. Still far earlier than Xaelia would rise back home.
Entertainers tended to sleep all day and stay up all night.
“But… That’s not me...Not anymore,” Another stab of bitterness wedged itself deep in her chest. Her shoulders hunching a little bit more, hugging herself a little tighter as she fought the harsh words threatening to snap back at the war-lord. He acted like they were late when they hadn’t been given a time to arrive.
But breakfast...That was far too important to miss over pointing this out. She gave the War-lord a final icy stare as she followed the youngest drakkan back inside.
Once the aura of Keregar had faded and they were out of sight, she felt the tension fall from her shoulders. Varzar had...proven himself to be safer than the rest of his family. Not worthy of trust, but not a presence to be on guard with.
The larder-kitchen-pantry room that they were lead to was not terribly far from their- the room they had slept in the night before. It was small, an over glorified closet really. It was cooler than the house, giving the effect of being partially underground. The cooking utensils were scares, a pot over the fire, a pan. Different meats hung from everywhere, more like decoration than anything. The furniture, like the rest of the house, gave off the vibe of ‘don’t get comfortable, get what you need and get out’.
Not one to disappoint orders given by furniture, Xaelia reached out a hand into a basket by the door, filled to the brim with dark red and blue berries. They weren’t from Gemmenia, but seemed harmless enough.
She heard Vazar whisper something before a loud sound echoed through the small room.
Xaelia hand jerked, the berries exploding in her hand, the juice running around her wrist and soaking her sleeve with the dark juice. Turning her head she first looked for a fallen object, something broken something…
Her eyes fell to Nadia, her head twisting right and pointing to the side, standing still as her face quickly reddened in the shape of a hand print. To Vazar, his glove held awkwardly in one hand and the other closer to his body as though finishing a swing.
“What…” Xaelia said slowly, her eyebrows pulled tight in confusion, the information quickly piecing itself together as she tried to figure out what had happened. In one fluid mission, she shook her hand of the berries, spattering Vazar with the dark juice and crushed skins of the fruit. “Oh, Nadia ,” She reached her clean hand out to hold the girl’s face, lifting it up to examine any damage.
Once assured that her sister-bride wasn’t about to die, Xaelia rounded on the drakkan in the room. “ Why in Vavari’s blessed name did you do that?” Her voice hardly hiding the rage that seemed to always be bubbling below her skin, waiting for a reason to come out.“Nadia wasn’t doing anything but following orders, what game are you playing?” Had it been Keregar or any of Vazar’s brothers, she wouldn’t have dared to speak so boldly. But this was the little drakkan. The one who took the time to play nice. The one who tried to make them trust him.
“You’ve shown us the food, you should leave. Hurry back to daddy, I’m sure you don’t want to miss his lessons, how else will you turn out just like him?”
Vazar didn’t so much as flitch, or respond or do anything, which only made her angrier.
“Didn't you hear me? Leave!” Her hand reached out to the side, for something, anything. Her hand closing in on something hard and smooth. Without any thought, she tossed the object and watch with great satisfaction as she saw a speckled egg fly across the room towards the little drakkan.
Xae is mad (like usual) she isn’t happy that Nadia got pimp slapped and now she is throwing things like eggs and berries
All the reassurance in the world could do little to calm Xaelia. The tears continue to flow freely even as Nadia made every effort to comfort her, which only causes her to sob harder.
“Y-You can’t k-know this is the bottom ,” she said, her voice turning into hiccups as she tried to stop her crying. “T-this is Drakka and I think it goes so much further down”
“Well, maybe…. Maybe it doesn’t?” Nadia started, still kneeling next to her sister-bride on the floor of their shared room. “I know it’s… umm…” She searched her mind for something, anything better to say than that, but after a moment she just sighed.
“Who am I trying to convince? You’ve got it right, we’re as good as dead. But, we aren’t dead yet so… Why don’t we try to put that off as far as we can hm?” She smiled weakly as she reached out to pull Xaelia up. “Come on, let’s try to go to sleep. We can talk more in the morning.”
Reluctantly, Xaelia rose, crawling into the bed. Even that felt unfamiliar. The blankets were rough and heavy, better suited for frigid climates than this desert one, although the rainstorm left her longing for warmth. The scent, while clean and left a strangely metical scent behind instead of a soft, grassy flowery one of the soap used at home.
With a final, shuddering breath, Xae buried her head in her pillow. She was feigning sleep, her ear ever on alert for the lingering threat of Kieran.
She couldn't say for sure when her fake sleep turned into a real one, her exhausted body forcing her unconscious. The room was still as dark as when she fell asleep, darker even, as the fire had long since burned out.
The only other thing that market the passage of time was the ever growing emptiness in her stomach, refusing to let her forget that breakfast of yesterday was the last time that they had had a meal. Yet, even that couldn’t pull her from her bed. At the very least, she sat up, looking over at her sister-bride, waiting for her to awaken.
Nadia watched sadly as Xaelia pulled herself into bed, wondering how she could help her. Everything was bad, and she was right to be sad and scared and…. Nadia walked over to her own bed and lay down on top of the covers. She was too warm to cover up, and if they would have to react quickly to anything in the night… It was best to stay like this. She watched the fire burn out as she faded along with it, falling into a thankfully dreamless slumber.
In the morning when she woke, her first thought was to check on Xaelia and see if she was okay, but as she looked over she noticed that her sister-bride was already awake, watching her. She got up quickly, stuttering as she stood. “G-good morning Xae. Did you… sleep okay?”
“As well as can be expected I suppose ,” her voice came out gravely, but it carried a muted calm. “Do you think… we are to stay in here?” That would be the safe bet. To wait like obedient pets to be let out by their masters. The choice leaving a sour taste in Xae’s mouth.
“I hope not…” Nadia said, moving to the door. She turned the handle and tried to open it for a good minute before remembering that she locked it. “Oh, the key… I don’t want to just sit around here, even if it means going out and facing those scary kids.” She continued as she found the key and unlocked the door, standing to the side as it opened for Xaelia to go out first. “Besides, we don’t wanna miss breakfast do we?” She added with a smile.
“I suppose you are right. A moment? ” She asked, pulling a fresh tunic and leggings out of the trunk. Off white and brown. She ran a brush through her hair, but otherwise let it be. The slap from Keregar had darkened to a bruise below her eye. A few experimental prods left her wincing. “I guess I am ready as I’ll ever be,” she said, taking a deep breath before stepping out of the room into the bright light of day. There was clanging coming in the direction of the court yard, the only sign of life in the whole house.
“Oh, right.” Nadia said as Xaelia changed. She turned away to give the girl her privacy, also closing the door slightly as she did. She hadn’t even thought to change- all the clothes in the trunk were the same to her, except for her few things, but she didn’t want to wear those now. Dull, plain things that could be worn for anything.. And, was it even expected of her to be proper anymore? To separate bedclothes from dayclothes? As soon as Xaelia said she was ready, Nadia nodded and followed her out into the hallway.
The sounds of fighting were back, and Nadia couldn’t help the thought that that’s all Keregar’s family ever seemed to do. She glanced at Xaelia, wondering how they should go about this. ““So I guess maybe we’ve already missed it? Or Drakkan just don’t eat.”
Xaelia shrugged, her mind unable to think of a response to that. Stopping by the door that lead to the outside, the sound of as even louder here. “I guess all we can do is ask,” she said softly, taking in a deep breath, her hand reaching out as though to open the door, freezing inches from the handle.
As Xaelia froze, Nadia reached out to hold her hand, moving to open the door together. Outside, Keregar stood, watching his sons intently as they exchanged blows. As Nadia stepped out into the morning sun, she pulled Xaelia out with her, keeping a firm grip on her sister-bride’s hand to try and show her that she would stay by her side.
“Good morning, m’lord.” She greeted Keregar once they were close enough to the warlord. Not hesitating at all, she glanced over at the boys fighting and asked, “So, did we miss breakfast then?”
The moment they were out in the courtyard, Xae jerked her hand out of Nadia’s, crossing her arms protectively in front of her. Her eyes drifting over the scene in front of her, the brightness of the morning causing her eyes to tighten into a squint. Xaelia’s eyes narrowed as she saw the twins, little more than a glare, only to soften slightly when they fell on Varzar. She still didn’t trust the child, but he really hadn’t been anything but kind since they arrived. Her entire posture changed the moment she saw Kieran, her shoulders tensed, as though she was about to bolt. With great effort, Xaelia drug her eyes away from the Lord’s children to look at the man himself. In an instant, the hate she felt last night filled her again. But the ache coming from her cheek dimmed it slightly. A reminder that Keregar could and would do whatever he wanted to them. She gave a tight lipped nod in his direction, not trusting herself to speak just yet.
Xaelia finishes her break down and is now over it. Also she hungers. And likes to speak with her eyes. Nadia is there to comfort and lead while Xae is acting all gun shy and stuff. Nadia likes to speak with her mouth. Also, breakfast???
"We will be getting your collars and brands done first thing. Then I'll take you shopping for a little while before a meeting I need to attend. Depending on how long all this takes, we might be able to be on the road back home before dark."
A cough wracked through Bree has the news hit her the same time that she tried to swallow a piece of bread. She took another sip of Adora’s, now cold, bitter tea, “B-branding?” She waited a moment, studying Kagan’s face for any hint of a joke or flicker of uncertainty of his actions. Anything she could use to disway his current mindset. Seeing nothing she scrambled on. “You’d really do that?” The alarm was evident in her voice, but so was a hint of disappointment and disbelief , like a mother finding out their child wasn’t as innocent as they pretended to be. A strategy her own mother used often in her raising. The idea of the collar concerned her significantly less than the brand. It was protection really. Showing that you belong to something stronger than the person attacking you. The brand… that was pain and defigurment.
She also rarely ever felt pain, at least, not from flames. Fire gems didn’t get burned, their affinity preventing most causal burns from stoves and carelessness. But she could only imagine the pain it would cause.
But that wasn’t the most troubling thing.
Leaving now would mean traveling further away from Allie.
“Are you in such a hurry to leave? The capital seems-“ she struggled to find the words to filling the blank. “Nice ” she finished rather lamely. Her eyes flicking over to Adora who was now tidying up the room. Yet another thing Bree had never had to do.
Bree is starting to bargain her way out of the branding. Also, she doesn’t want to leave the capital just yet because Allie
A short laugh escaped Bree’s lips before she covered her own mouth lightly, her hand making a poor cover for her smirk. “Oh dear, you do understand that a slave is exactly what you are?” She watched the woman carefully trying to gauge her reaction. Bree couldn’t pinpoint the feeling last night, but, now in the day, there was something uneasy about how eager the girl was to be here. How eager she was to please everyone. Bree watched with an odd amount of satisfaction as a Adora brought her hands to wipe her eyes, but the cause of it, whether Aubree’s words or something other unknown factor was unclear.
Bree’s eyes followed Adora as she made herself a second cup of tea, while Bree’s own started to grow cool in her hands. Somewhere behind her, her husband had awoke, a quickly sideways glance left her face flushed red as the image of her husband’s naked body brought back flashbacks of the night before.
Her sister bride soon returned and Bree took a sip of the liquid to avoid having to respond. The unexpected bitterness of the lukewarm liquid causing her nose to crinkle with distaste. She eyed the honey for a moment before simply setting the tea down all together and starting to pick at the food set out on the table.
“Fucking formal wear...”
“Formal wear?” asked Bree, her eyebrow raising as she took another bite of bread, her husband now finally dressed enough that she could look at him without the heat rising into her face. Brushing the crumbs away, she glanced down at her own outfit, before shooting Kagan a questioning glance. It was far from what she would call ‘formal’ wear, but she hadn’t figured out how much that matter here in Drakka….nor if what she was wearing matter much at all.
Her attention was once again pulled towards her sister-wife. The flash of emotions across Adorabella’s face flipped from joy, to sorrow, to despair, and finally landing on concern as she noticed a wound from last night on her husband’s hand. The air of seduction was gone as the girl switched into healing mode. Well, at least she has that going for her thought Bree lighting. She chewed a piece of fruit, her mind distracted by her sister bride until the exact second her eye met Kagan’s. She choked a little bit as a sudden idea hit her. It would have probably been wise to have at least greeted her husband before questioning him. “”D-did you sleep well?” She muttered to Kagan, the words coming out awkwardly.