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ᅟmysaria watches her hands, then her face, as if measuring the weight of what was just offered. she does not answer immediately.
“ …you speak as though trust can be owned. ” a pause. she steps just slightly closer, ( ➣ )
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ᅟ a king with no crown, a warrior with no sword... a men with no one to trust; every ruler needs a hand & yet need someone to trust beneath it;﹙a pause, lilac gaze wandering, — can i * truly trust her?﹚... all things they said about you, they offer you money,
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ᅟ“ …trust is a dangerous thing to ask for. ” a pause. her voice remains even, though something in it softens. “ …and yet everyone seems to need it from someone. ”
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ᅟmysaria says nothing at first. she listens as the names are laid before her, one after another, and hears what sits beneath them. not alicent. not daemon. not even the promise that was broken. something quieter than anger, and far more difficult to carry. ( ➣ )
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ᅟ except that i do care for what * she said, ﹙deep breath; her voice tone getting deeper & deeper, — anger.﹚she supposed to declare for me! she promised,﹙"* you will be a fine queen haunting her thoughts.﹚i can not trust no one, — daemon supports only himself,
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ᅟ“ …she should not have made promises she was unwilling to keep. ”
her gaze settles on rhaenyra. for a moment, she considers saying more. considers offering something she has spent most of her life refusing to give. ( ➣ )
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ᅟmysaria is quiet for a moment. she lets the anger pass through without catching it. “ …she may have lied. ” a pause, her gaze steady on rhaenyra.
“ …but it is not her name you are carrying like this. and that matters more than whatever she said. ”
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ᅟ advice.﹙deep breath, teeth biting softly her lower lip, nervousism, anxiety, pain. she now has a collection of feelings, — good, bad, mad, sad...﹚i think * she.﹙hightower﹚lied. again &* i fell for her trap. as some desperate little fucking rat!
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ᅟmysaria studies her for a moment, expression unreadable. “ …help can mean many things. ” a pause, measured and quiet.
“ …you would not have come here if you did not already know what you want. ”
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ᅟ dragonstone is never quiet —— not really. salt in the air, stone damp underfoot, wind cutting through the arches. mysaria stands where the cliff breaks into black water, still as the tide shifts below.
behind her —— the council still arguing. she does ( ➣ )
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