Recent content by Divina Rosenstern

She let out a weak laugh, swiping a sleeve over her nose. It seemed like he was trying to say something, but she shook her head, trying to wipe the tears again and feeling more well. Ugh. She felt wrung out and emotionally drained. It felt like the majority of the storm had passed, but it still...

It seemed the youth that challenged Tzuriel lost his nerve. The crowd rumbled their discontent of the braggart and his swaggering nonsense, and in fact one man clapped the youth on the back, helpfully leading him towards the ale casks. After all, what was a party without some ale and dancing...

Something wet and furry wedged itself between her and the floor. Her first impulse was to push it back, give her space to breathe, but it was relentless. It was only by cracking open her eyes that she saw the black fur. Choking back another sob, she pressed her hands into the fur of his neck and...

So he spotted her. Her lips twitched at her future spouse's challenger proposing the loser to pay the next round; so she would lay out bets. She had full faith in Tzuriel, however, the chance of him losing would be intriguing to watch nonetheless. She melted into the crowd, taking care to set...

She felt like she could sleep days at a time. But with Tzuriel's gentle ministrations, she already felt more at ease than she had since their caravan was assaulted. And in his arms, she felt like she could sleep peacefully at last. It wasn't long until her eyes closed, and she sank to deep rest...

Just as Tzuriel was seeking her, she was being tricky with him. He had a slight advantage, with his sight, smell, and hearing, so she treaded carefully, guessing that perhaps he would be meeting with some merchants or dancing; or perhaps he was looking for her, a thought that made the...

She wanted to protest, but he was already moving, and she was too weary to put up much of a struggle anyhow. So she leaned back into the chair as he carefully removed her boots, almost groaning aloud not only at the softness of the seat in contrast to the ground and the cave floor... an honest...

In Alliria, one celebration could trump all others. One reason for the Merchant Council to relax, so to speak, and for the peoples, from the Shallows to the citadel, to pause from their labors and cheer on a season. This season happened to be Divina's favorite, as well. A full street near the...

Finally. She wanted to rest. Wanted to sit down, lay down, and forget everything. But even a self-made noblewoman knew her limits, and she hadn't breached them for some time. However, this was Tzuriel's venture, she was merely his companion. It was her fault for putting such a target on his...

She flushed deep scarlet when he scooped her up easily, but couldn't really protest. If she wanted to, she could be stubborn, but a lady knew when to accept graciously and when to have a stiff spine. She knew he worked hard, and so she would do her best and do her part. And yet thankfully their...

A sudden idea occurred to her. If their enemies wanted to see her dead before she even reached the altar... perhaps they could do something to catch their enemy unawares. The ruse of her faking her death was now past them for the time being anyways, but if... No. ...When they would make it...

A circus! A circus? She glanced at the caravan ahead of them, at the strange beings, and the stranger man who greeted them in an unfamiliar accent. At first, it took her a moment to understand his oddly pleasant speech, but when Tzuriel introduced her, she flicked him a grateful look, and...

She couldn't help but gape slightly, before withdrawing deeper into her hood. Though she knew they were perhaps a little safer here than in the woods, she couldn't help but feel more unease at the beings present. She was aware her connections with other humanoids were limited, but still. She...

There were risks no matter what path they chose. And honestly, she was tired of the fear, tired of keeping vigilant and waiting for death. She was the Black Widow, dubbed a maneater and a power-hungry merchant noblewoman. She didn't fear death, she feared not being able to continue their legacy...

She did what little she could to aid him. She was an awful cook, they both realized, but she attempted to. He carried the weight, very literally, on his own shoulders, and there were times she wished she could do the same. Bit by bit, her magic returned, but it felt off, somehow, almost...