☉DANIKA
I hated looking at Fergal’s massive back and shoulders, so lined with scars and wounds, and yet… I found that I could not. I was ensorcelled as I stared, taking in every cut, every line, down to the tone of his muscles. Fergal rolled his shoulders and gruffly asked if I was ever going to begin.
“Of course,” I gave a little cough.
I looked around. I had never been in his chambers before, and I hoped that navigating would be easy, but I was still at a loss at how Fergal’s chamber differed so very well from mine.
Where there was a space for a flower pot in my own room, Fergal’s had none, the space instead, occupied by an imposing suit of armor. On one side of his wall hung a sword still in its sheath. It had a stone set in its hilt that I admired. I turned around to give the room
