The Reve's Tale
Morning came all too early for the blonde-haired Bean-cheangial, and she moaned softly as she snuggled closer to her maighstir, or would have if her maighstir was still in bed. Instead of curling up in his warmth, Heather blindly felt around for the man who had saved her. Where is he? She wondered as the cooling spot under the covers intruded into her dreams. She mumbled into the pillows, “Maighstir, are you here?”
When she didn't receive an answer, she blinked the sleep from her green eyes and looked blearily around the room. Balgair was nowhere to be found. I wonder where he is? The thought went through her mind that could have left her. He left you, little slut. You weren't important enough to him, after all, and like the men of this town, he didn't think about you at all. As the depression weighed down on her, she closed her eyes and wept. In her distress, she forgot that she was bonded to him and that he could sense her moods.
What's wrong, mo tè àlainn?
She clung to …
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