M A X E N C E take care to leave a trace of a man ☩ As he watched like a lion over his pride, eyes of seven seas praising the gold-cloaked landscape of the Mors, he hoped— no, prayed she would come. It was no longer a matter of weeks, days or hours. In minutes the Solterran patriarch would begin his journey from the den of lion's into the crows murder on his own to seek out the night king and seek whatever resolution possible. Maxence could feel in his gut that the task was frought with danger, and his decision to leave Avdotya and Seraphina with the day court was one he had not made lightly. If they all did not return, struck down by a flock of birds and picked on like carrion, who would save Solterra? For this reason he waited alone on the dune, the last sliver of sun bidding farewell over a red desert. Avdotya— would she farewell him? The others he had mellowly praised upon exit of the court, thanking each of his people that came to wish him luck and bless him with Solis's light. But the one he wished to see the most was one who had eluded him as he made his solemn departure. And so the stallion would wait, harnessed and cloaked in fur, ready for battle. There were always minutes he would spare for the bear-marked shieldmaiden, and quite simply, if she would not come he would no longer wait. Whether or not he could leave without her luck, her blessing and her wicked gaze of fire was a question that began to linger upon his mind— what if he never saw her again? |
