jane
Jane’s relationship with her husband was a curious, unnamed thing. He was ten years her senior, a veteran of combat with a good rank among the court. He was also a widower, having lost his beloved Isador four years before. He was a strange creature, two hands taller than Jane but more interested in his studies than he ever was in Jane. Battles with other clans had left the sergeant with a noticeable limp and a broad scar that stretched from the centre of his forehead to the corner of his mouth. This was not the only scar, but it was the most noticeable.
Oh, and the sterility.
That was an important one.
In one of the former battles, against a small nation of insurgents who called themselves the Starlets, he had been captured and promptly castrated. His bloodline and his pride stolen, Isaar had returned to the Angora as a shadow of his former self. He had returned widowed, lonely, and broken.
How had Jane come to marry this man, you may be asking. She had certainly asked herself that question many a sleepless night.
The truth was that Jane’s ranking had completely tanked after her exile from Angora. It had not helped when her aunt and uncle had kicked her out of their house in Solterra. Months of living among the supposed filth and squalor of the lower Day Court had unalterably tainted her with unlearnedness and brashness. She had become used to the feeling of an empty stomach, to the gnawing of hunger that bit against all of those soft layers of woman that they had been training to become.
Hunger had blackened her sight and made her bloodthirsty after the offer of return from her mother. General Isaar was looking for a wife, a pretty young wife who he could spoil and make rich. And what would you know it, Jane had been mentioned and her portrait had been shown.
You can help our family, darling. Jane knew that she had embarrassed her family. Indeed, how could she not know.
Later, Jane would feel ashamed at how quickly she had left everyone. Her farewells had not been many, only reserved for Veil as well as the assurance that she would send back gifts and money. She hadn’t. She had been so hungry.
Jane was married on the second day after her arrival, when her figure was still full and beautiful. She had worn jewels, and gone in peace to the side of her new husband. She had known him when she was yet a filly; had known him as a stern yet fair stallion who was deeply in love with his young wife. Isaar had not known Jane. He had not laid with her on their wedding night, nor any night that followed- there had been no point, after all.
The only thing he had done was come to Jane’s chambers, where she sat with her new maid, and whispered Thank you for this, before leaving her to her solitude. What a queer fellow, the maid had said to her lady. Jane was inclined to agree.
And now she was in Delumine. What a name, the soft taste of possession on the tongue. Delumine, Delu mine, my Delu. Jane hummed to herself as she passed a stall of pastries. Sugar burnt the edge of her nostrils; not the catered pastries of court but the lovemade creations of the horses who wanted to show their crafts or gain money. The fact that she had been one of them, for a short time, was nothing short of impossible.
She had been with Sol Bestiam here. The reds had touched her flank and she had woken up in his home. She had laughed and flirted and been good, so good for him. So wickedly good. Not like now, where she was just… good.
Jane smiled, but there was no joy in it as she stood among the field of poppies with the scent of winter still cloying behind her.
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@[Vreis] / speaks im back!!!
