Our relationship was quiet. We shared kisses in the relay hours of the morning, she held me when I sobbed and I posed for her drawings- naked, clothed, smiling, whatever. Being a Sky Person, we were very different. But our union seemed to bridge peace. I proposed to her in my throne room, kneeling before her and vowing to take her needs, wants, fears, and the blood on her hands as my own. She sunk to her knees in front of me, and promised to do the same.

Then, we went public with our relationship. We were met with cheers from her people- Skykru, we call them. But from mine, there were murmurs of worry. Some cheered for us, some outright opposed us. I gave the order for their murder, to make an example of them. She stopped me, shook her head and said she would not start our beginning with such an end. I had them beat instead, which she did not enjoy but was permissible.

Now, we lay in my bed. I hold her in my arms, face tucked against her neck in a moment of quiet peace. She traces the tattoo along my spine, attempting to sketch it and pet me at the same time. She has her left hand free, but she’s right handed. I gently take the notebook from her, and toss it off the bed. I’m naked before her very eyes, and she is to be my wife. This is a time for celebration, not for artistry.

I gently push her back and crawl on top of her, kissing along her aides and her face. She laughs, wriggling in my arms. She rolls us over, flipping so I’m underneath her. We begin to play wrestle until the door to my chambers open. My General coughs, and I cover her with furs as I hold her to my chest. He nods slightly to the door, and I understand. There must be an issue with one of the twelve clans I have joined in an alliance.

They were explicitly instructed not to disturb me. I nod back and begin to dress myself, and she does the same. I try to tell her she doesn’t have to come to the meeting, but she gives me a stare that would level a mountain. We walk in side by side, her twisting the ring I gave her and me with my hands behind my back- my engagement ring is tattooed on. I nod to my generals, and take my seat. She sits down tentatively on my knee when I tap it under the table.

She draws stares, but I quiet them with my own burning gaze. I soften only for her. Most people have mixed opinions about her. She’s a healer, with legitimate training in both western medicine and our own. She’s a valuable asset, and an intelligent woman. However, most are worried that, once again, I will be sent into a fit of rage if she were to be captured. She’s an asset and a liability, and she knows it.