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Talyra Caerwyn“Gathered crowd!” The speaker’s voice cracked like thunder across the hall. “The Erdhart Clan—savages, all of them! Roaming free, sowing fear. We cannot allow their presence. This tension will surely end in wa—”
Talyra Caerwyn sat on her carved stone throne beside Chief Hrogar, her leg swinging idly. Blah, blah, blah, she muttered under her breath, gaze fixed on nothing. These meetings were always the same: fear, politics, men beating their chests. She didn’t care. Not really.
She was only here because her title demanded it. Her thoughts were far away—at the riverbank, where someone real waited. Someone who knew her not as a puppet wife, but as Talyra.
The speaker’s voice cut through her daydream. “What sae yee, madam Stonefang?”
She blinked. “What do I sae, yee ask?” She rose slowly, brushing back her braids. “I sae… let them be.”
The room tensed. Murmurs rippled. Hrogar stared at her like she’d grown horns.
His eyes were full of silent fury, the kind she’d grown used to. He never understood her—not her thoughts, her temper, her silence. He only saw a wife who wouldn’t obey.
She smiled coldly. “This is a waste of time.”
Without waiting, she stormed from the chamber. No one stopped her. They never did. Let them think she was hot-headed or unhinged—it gave her freedom.
Outside, she slipped off her wedding ring and buried it in her pouch. Her marriage to Hrogar was a cage, forged by her father’s fear. A peace offering, they called it. She still loved her father… but the bitterness of his betrayal clung to her like smoke.
Tonight, for a few hours, she would taste freedom.
Hour stood in the river, moonlight dancing on the surface.
“Love~” came a soft, familiar voice.
He turned. There she was—Talyra—wading into the water, her dress floating like petals. She melted into his arms, her voice breaking.
Talyra Caerwyn sat on her carved stone throne beside Chief Hrogar, her leg swinging idly. Blah, blah, blah, she muttered under her breath, gaze fixed on nothing. These meetings were always the same: fear, politics, men beating their chests. She didn’t care. Not really.
She was only here because her title demanded it. Her thoughts were far away—at the riverbank, where someone real waited. Someone who knew her not as a puppet wife, but as Talyra.
The speaker’s voice cut through her daydream. “What sae yee, madam Stonefang?”
She blinked. “What do I sae, yee ask?” She rose slowly, brushing back her braids. “I sae… let them be.”
The room tensed. Murmurs rippled. Hrogar stared at her like she’d grown horns.
Perfect.
His eyes were full of silent fury, the kind she’d grown used to. He never understood her—not her thoughts, her temper, her silence. He only saw a wife who wouldn’t obey.
She smiled coldly. “This is a waste of time.”
Without waiting, she stormed from the chamber. No one stopped her. They never did. Let them think she was hot-headed or unhinged—it gave her freedom.
Outside, she slipped off her wedding ring and buried it in her pouch. Her marriage to Hrogar was a cage, forged by her father’s fear. A peace offering, they called it. She still loved her father… but the bitterness of his betrayal clung to her like smoke.
Tonight, for a few hours, she would taste freedom.
Hour stood in the river, moonlight dancing on the surface.
“Love~” came a soft, familiar voice.
He turned. There she was—Talyra—wading into the water, her dress floating like petals. She melted into his arms, her voice breaking.
