ᵀ͟ᴴ͟ᴱ͟ 𝕻𝑜𝑒𝑡 ⸙

𝗂'𝗏𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 been 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥. 𝘪 tired, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 fragments 𝘰𝘧 𝖒𝖞𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖔𝖔, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 awaiting 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸.

what did he do wrong this time !!

edrys knew if there was a world in which none of the death and destruction happened , she would be different . perhaps she would be more princess than soldier . more quant than rough . but here he was , begging her to slow ↴

oh , one thing she hated to see , was her uncle caspian cry . when his heart broke , hers tore to shreds . perhaps in a different life time , they were made of the same cloth , as she felt the things he felt , ten fold . ↴

“ you don't have to be . ” she finally said , head lifting to look at him , thumb caressing his knuckles that have been bruised and bloodied once . “ i messed up . i thought if i carried all of this alone , i could spare you all . ”

“ i love you , ” words that were hardly spoken these days . yet she felt them stronger all at the same time . she felt the need to tell him . “ and i'm sorry . ”

It's a little rude to be pointing to another king—.