POISON AND WINE

Perhaps, if things had not gone as they had, she might have rushed to him. Perhaps she might have come at him with confessions of desire and how much she has missed him. And yet, things are different. She is married, but that does not stop her from wondering what if. What if he had stayed, what if the children she had born had been his. What if Amenti had grown to be their empire? ?You flatter me,? she says this neutrally. She is not important to him, and she doesn?t care that much about it anymore. If he truly had found her important, he would have stayed.
He tells her that she is still a ruler, and she nods her head. No, she is no peasant. She is a god, born of the bloodline of the divine. ?Ruler, matriarch, mother. I was born a god, no matter what I do I am never a peasant,? she tells him swiftly. In time she will demonstrate that she is god, that she cannot be defeated nor crushed. Alas, for now she finds herself pulled towards him. She moves a step or two closer, but no more. She is not a wanton little girl; she is ruler, Empress, matriarch. ?I loved you, I think. A year ago I would have yearned to tell you that,? she notes this distantly. It isn?t some great confessions of desire; it?s more a matter-of-fact statement.