Disclaimer: This series is an LGBT slow-burn fiction that contains heavy politics and sensitive themes like profane language, murder, war, cultism, fictional religions, non-consensual events, PTSD, racism, substance abuse, misogynistic undertones, a...
Miriam downed another bottle, she had gone to Graygreen a few nights ago yet something about its pine-fresh winds always pluck her nerves. it's a tedious cycle unfairly set upon her, like toiling the driest hectares of land, unrooting grass under the hottest blaze of the sun- only to find out that they'll grow rampant the next moon, and repeating the labour the following dawn. Such is the life of a Medium forsaken by her country.
"Miriam Blackmercy, Nightshade Heroine, Medium of the North, God-killer..." Sion never knew of his mother's titles and Miriam treasured his ignorance. She treated the boy as her own blood, hiding him from public eyes so her reputation won't damage the lad's quality of life. And she had ensured her very best that Sion would mature with a virtuous heart unlike her's.
She knows she entered the wrong carriage when what was supposed to be the Silver Lady's high seat now cuts the circulation from her little legs. Regardless, no soul from Dirge can tell her what to do. It would take a crown owner or a literal god to make her reconsider her actions once, which is what happened two decades ago.
Someone else was in the carriage before her, a large cloaked man seated across the table in high defences, fortified like a city as if Miriam is a beast that would attack him anytime soon. The man doesn't dare kill the silence, maybe he knows of her identity.
"Ease yourself, I didn't kill the Silver Lady to take her spot to Graygreen." Miriam joked. She studied the cloaked figure- quite tall, with broad shoulders and rough-looking hands, his fingers crossed with markings of ropes. Then it struck her.
"Just take the cloak off Ian, I won't tell anyone I've seen you." She grabbed a bread knife to serve herself jam and bread. She could hear the sailor's shoulders drop as he let out a shaky breath. "This ice-brained kid always acting a fool..." she muttered.
"You know that they will rip you to shreds once you step foot in Graygreen, right?" The Sailor was distressed.
"Ha? as if they could touch me under Ocemnian protection? But seeing how you still attacked the diplomat earlier, I doubt that no casualties would ensue."
"Aye..." he kept to himself.
"Apologize to my son, not to me. I'm guessing that's not the only reason why you're tailing him though. You still reek of jealousy, boy."
The Sailor took shelter by the window with eyes as dry as the cold winds entering.
"You already had my blessings to espouse him... I wouldn't even mind if you run away with him to wherever the sea will take you. I'd rather have him safe under you than be caught up with my past..."
