It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to be here, and she wasn’t supposed to be feeling this way. But there wasn’t anything to help take that edge off. Her worst fears had come true, the stallion of her nightmares stood before her with a dark brooding presence – and yet when the beast turned around to face her, his orange eyes glinted with sadness and perhaps even regret. Rexanna had begun to forget about the crude “C” carved into her chest, forgetting the pulsating feeling as it bubbled and bled against her ivory pelt. Instead, her brows furrowed as she looked upon the bald faced man that she had admired once in her life.

His words stung like knives – each one pushing deeper and deeper into her soul until she felt as though she would collapse. ”I loved you, Rexanna. I was good to you.” She flinched. But almost as if he knew what he had said, he covered it up. It was too much. I didn’t have any control over who my father was. You should’ve known that.” Her words rushed out, hushing to a mere whisper as she dropped her gaze from him, his endearing tone of voice even acknowledging her as “love”. As he paused, her broken blue gaze swept up from the icy undergrowth, looking for his orange flames, searching them with a curious gleam.

He began to describe the setting of her miscarriage. She shivered beneath the words as he talked about the forest, how beautiful it was. How terrible it turned out to be. She breathed in a ragged breath, ears flitting backwards sharp against her exotic striped skull. She forced herself to take another step toward him, shakily and uncertain, but still she did so. “Cal, I would never kill a child. OUR child didn’t even have a chance for his first breath. All because of you.” She glared, her gaze hardening on his face until she spotted the golden strip that lined his ivory mane.

Tears burned her eyes as she tore her eyes from him, recognizing the feather as the little plumes that had adorned their bloody golden son. The Thief withdrew into herself once more, enduring his harsh words without any hint of a rebounding argument. She flinched as he spoke of a new lover, remembering the trinity knot the Haruspex had painted upon her skin. She nodded to him then. “He knows.” She whispered. “But he’s not my lover” She began to hiss to him, hardening her gaze upon the icy blades of grass beneath her. She forced her head up, focusing her eyes onto him. And yet, she found nothing but the movement of bushes. She moved one step further, eyes lingering on the movement. “Regardless of what you think, I loved you and our son too.” She called out to him, anger and frustration bubbling on the brink of spilling over as her wound poured more blood and pulsated with her rapid heartbeat.

He didn’t understand back then what she did. He didn’t know what it was like being absolutely nothing and being made and molded into something you weren’t. All for the pleasure of someone else. The King had done that to her, and despite how much she tried to refrain from the memory of what the new world felt like, she couldn’t help but remember the cage she was trapped in. A cage of golden jewels and silks, forced to portray a person she had never been. Forced to become someone that even the Thief couldn’t imagine being at one time. Oh, but how she could see it now. She remembered the markings of the stillborn colt, imagining how it would have been to stand beside Calstron’s side with him in tow. Would his parents have been upset? Would they have been pleased? The consistent blood pelt that his family was known for was hardly seen on the child’s pelt. Instead, it had been all her, and she had figured that perhaps once she had birthed the perfect heir for the throne, she would have been tossed aside as all the other toys Cal had.

Not anymore, she didn’t want that to be her future. And she made it happen. Even still, Cal was here – In Helovia – and she began to feel whatever grasp on her life she had managed on the edge of the cliff begin to slip. She needed to pull herself together, to remember the person she had been when she was able to be faceless. It was a task, that was for sure. Especially when half of Helovia knew who she was. Rexanna only hoped that perhaps this wouldn’t be the end. As terrible as Cal was and had been, she couldn’t forget the fact that he had kissed her and told her that he had always loved her. Confusion spiked in her breast and she lowered her head like a broken animal, finally letting the tears overcome her and choke up whatever other words she could have called after the Bloody Prince.

"Talk."

— I don’t love you,

but I always will.