55. Zephyr

Zephyr

Nails dig into wet soil, uprooting plants and flowers. Flowers I planted over the years, tending to them like they were the children I couldn't have after Rune.

I look at my fingers. There's dirt in my nails and mud coating my palms. My nose scrunches up. How unbecoming of a queen.

Unbecoming? The thought rips laughter from my throat. Before Fenrir, I was the carefree daughter of a Lord. I would roil in dirt for days, doing nothing but gardening.

I had siblings but I wasn't like them. I was kind and naive, looking at life as nothing weighty or serious.

Fenrir, he taught me how to be queen, even before my coronation. We would spend days and nights, past the curfew, reading scroll after scroll. He would watch me with keen eyes as I read and practiced for the duties and responsibilities that came with being his wife.

And when I dozed off on the library's table, he would wake me with soft kisses on my neck. I would wake up with a hunger I didn't understand, and I would want