#bourboniic

quiet devours her.  every movement barred by abrupt outburst  .   THE STERN TONE , SO INDELICATE , TAKING HER BY SURPRISE.  water mar crimson cheek ,  chagrin , forcing eyes to seek comfort in the floor rather than in his.  ❛ BE MERCIFUL ON ME.  my purpose was not to insult you nor disobey you , but , for once , i could not help but speak out.  he’s an old goose  &   i could never forgive myself for marrying him.  not even for you . not when so many men, handsome  &  rich , have sought my hand. CAN YOU NOT FIND IT IN YOU TO FORGIVE ME ?  ❜

BEGUILING EYES, GOLD TINTED BLUES lit by bygone conversation.  offence taken by the words of one a stranger to him.   for once this was not the doing of his much present brother . hand meets oak            table shaking at the unsubtle fall.  ❛  YOU OUGHT BANISH  THAT GLATHIL . how dare he refuse our sister  &  curse our name.  ARE YOU NOT ANGRY, BROTHER ? ❜

brother spam.  always welcome.  @bourbone.

brow arch in question. mouth nearly kissed by words that could , as a principal , cost his head.  BLACKENED AZURE blank emotion from a usually tender gaze. his heated temper lost in the words of his brother.   there’s no thought, no consideration, before a hand is buried in the crease of his brother’s shirt ;  beckoning the man closer still.  anger was no foreignity to his tongue , violence part of not only of his nature, but of benjamin’s. THEY ARE BOURBONES AFTER ALL. 

                    if only FOR HER, benjamin’s stern features soften  ;  hesitant is the jewel-laden hand that reaches to caress his little sister’s golden head. SO PURE STILL ;  she is not cursed with the bitter arrogance that blackens his soul,  shows never that bourbone arrogance,  nor the wicked,  darker nature of their family.   ❛   i am sorry,  sister.  between the clamouring of the council,  valentin’s demands and the recent unrest,  i heard not the sweet singing of your voice  ;  ruling this kingdom oft robs me of time and patience both.  tell me what weighs on you.   ❜

this, the aftermath of silence.  an abate to solitude.     HIS BEJEWELED HAND, MARRED BY WAR  the sense of home, oft, bygone in their lavish being.   from open mouth a sole whisper crawls .  his name .  a foreignity to her tongue               a name easily lost betwixt titles  &  formality.  ❛  YOU ARE MY BURDEN.  the sole thing that weigh down my shoulders.  i fear the crown may wear you thin ,  so much that you forget to live your life.  i wish only to see a smile pass your sweet lips. ❜