XLVIII.

Life is a nightmare. An ugly one, and there was no end to it.Well, if one is brave enough to cross the threshold of the unknown, employ the instruments of self-destruction… But no, not her. Her life was no longer her own...anyhow, when had the trek from one wing of the palace to the other … Continue reading XLVIII.

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XLVII.

The blinding rays of sunlight from the windows did not help the drums in his skull. Then an observation, alarm: his chamber did not have such a span of windows. Nor were the curtains pink. A part of him already knew where he was and the excruciating memories spilled forth from that spot. He gasped, … Continue reading XLVII.

XLVI.

She wondered how the moon feels, having its pallor and scars so often written of and personified by men. Would the moon find civilization’s imaginations laughable? Interesting enough, the man seated next to her upon this sturdy branch they shared was in a similar predicament as the moon. He almost looked happy watching the twinkle … Continue reading XLVI.

XLV.

Athlem won. She always wins, Horatio muttered in mild annoyance: it was just...the logical part of him is ripped off from its roots whenever his beloved is concerned, especially when she is humiliated by his own kin. He turned a corner, traced with dismay the distant figures congregating by the illumination of torches and a … Continue reading XLV.

XLIV.

Lyra wondered how the thin sliver of meat gently touched by fire accompanied by strands of vegetables arranged in a delicate garden smaller than her palm is supposed qualify as a feast. She calmed her empty stomach by testing the components with a fork. “Is the dish not to your liking, Your Highness?” inquired an … Continue reading XLIV.

XLIII.

Had they been at home, Athlem would be more worried about Lyra’s infatuation. But life was different: the Emperor is gone, Horatio’s crippled, they are wanted criminals...having something as innocent as “first love” around was a luxury she would not deny. Oh and also, they have arrived at Etzion, and that itself is worrisome enough. … Continue reading XLIII.