But if there is neither coincidence nor fate, whence cometh those quirky little windfalls, the stars that aligned seemingly at random? In those uncertainties walk the scientists of the world.
As Asterion spoke Raymond pivoted around to better face him, weight shifted to his left haunch. "And Florentine is what, some kind of queen here?" he replied. The words seemed incredulous, though his tone told a more nuanced tale. Raymond respected the flower child for the aid she had offered in saving Ruth's life - or at least postponing her death, as cruel reality would have it - with no expectation of reward. Such magnanimity was rare in his circles, and he marked it well when he saw it. But she was exactly that - a child - and the salvation of a hundred Ruths would not have convinced him that a butterfly still damp from the chrysalis should sit upon a throne with the sharpened sword of Damocles suspended above her head through every waking moment.
It was enough to ruin even great people.
But this was not Raymond's kingdom and these were not his ways. If they called Florentine their queen, then his disapproval would not spare her from the sword.
Speaking of the sword...
"And if she's a queen...." Raymond's tail arced like a red serpent past his right shoulder, its blade aimed squarely at Asterion's face. As before, he pulled it up short - but only just. "What does that make you?"
He was not the kindest teacher.
Raymond.
and at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
when the man comes around
and at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
when the man comes around
@Asterion
aut viam inveniam aut faciam
