Their children will learn to hope for a Caesar.
Some women love talking about their problems, while others kept them inside carefully locked boxes. My mother’s box had been comprised of impenetrable metal, and sealed with arcane magic, a rare sort of lady; for every secretive, closed woman, there were probably a dozen who flitted about like butterflies, their hopes, dreams, and secrets spilling forth like water from the red falls nearby. I don’t suppose they can help it, being emotional beings and all, as Vaelenne had explained to me all those summers ago. Men were made to be warriors, rigid as steel and law, while women, like Rexanna, Xynia, Aelin…

They were the color, as delicate as a song. They were bending and edgeless, supple as their curves.

Our muzzles brush in a gentle exchange of breath, certain locations tightening as they always do when I do this with mares; doing my best to disguise it as I pull away, I’m glad her words eclipse the awkward silence left in the gesture’s wake.

An illusory, mental click of her locks closing shut sounds behind her easy excuse for the heaviness in her face. I almost press her, finding that I’m intrigued by the mysterious gold mare as much as I’m off-put by her secrecy (never mind that I’m the same), but refrain, instead letting an easy smile broach my lips. I don’t have to know in order to enjoy her company, or to find what she says next funny, a rich chuckle sounding through the air.

"I don’t lie very often," I lie. An impish smile lines my features, my golden eyes devilishly glimmering. "Especially not to such a pretty woman."

Looking away awkwardly, the whole line not playing out as I’d imagined it. Thinking quickly, not wanting to come across as helplessly naïve and inexperienced (though I am), I flash my token smile again.

Duir exhales in exasperation, rolling his eyes at Remy for comedic effect.

"So, what’s new in the life of Rexanna?" I adeptly question, steering away from the sexual context, delving into who she is… and some of that other hopelessly feminine shit girls like to talk about, "I’m afraid I haven’t done much since we last saw each other."

Well, besides piss Deimos off, and probably culling any chance I had of being able to come back to the Basin at will. I wasn’t about to tell her all that though. It was embarrassing, and it made my insides feel like someone was punching them, to boot.