deep into the night of the masquerade, at the royal keep, where no invitation goes unanswered. @bareruin .
࿔ she waits for him. not with impatience, but irreverence, for it's a testament to her spirit, that which has never known peace. she lights candle after candle in worship of the seven, each flame a tinge brighter than the last, their light fashioned into something redolent of a crown upon her head. what you need to know of light and flame is that she does not worship them; they burn in reverence of her. if only she could swallow a flame, let it slide down her throat. would it hurt? would she like it? would it remind her of something? inamorata of every ill thought, a paramour, devoted only to exquisite torment. rhaella knew that he'd come. “ you shouldn't obey my father, yet you should do what he asks. ” think her not brutal, for all she wonders is whether he knows the difference between the two. she lends her mouth to fate: “ say what you have to say, avan. if you wish to be cruel, be cruel to me, i'll keep whatever you give inside of me. ”
