"But since my son is well and breathing, I can say I understand why you did what you did. But I want to believe that you have grown from that impulsive princess and you now think long and hard before acting." Rakavi smiled and Neriah wondered, ’If only she knew I was still planning to unlive her firstborn, would she still talk in this manner? With this sweet motherly tone?’
But she knew the answer to that question all too well. The answers were clearly spelled out in Rakavi’s earlier words.
"I apologize about that." The words left her lips without her even knowing the reason for those words. She had no idea what she was being sorry for. Was it her past actions, her present actions, or the one she was planning for the future. What was she sorry for? Neriah could not say what, but she was sincere with her apology. If anyone deserved a sincere apology, then it was the mother of the man she almost killed, and planned on killing.
"If you are going to be sorry, then do it right. Say I am sorry, Mother." Rakavi sipped her tea as she was out of biscuits to dip.
Neriah bit her bottom lip for a while, just blankly staring at her tea for long long minutes.
"Ah, fine. Take your time. I did not mean to rush you. Take your—"
"Mother," Neriah suddenly said and Rakavi gasped loudly as slowly she lifted her green eyes and stared back at the queen... "I am sorry Mother." Neriah said with a sad-sweet smile.
The shock on Rakavi’s face gradually shifted into a soft motherly smile as she said, "This mother accepts your sorry heart... Neriah."
And at that moment, Neriah thought to herself, ’When I end up killing Barak, you might be the only person I would feel bad for.’
Neriah lifted her eyes from Rakavi and saw Bashan creeping up from behind her, gesturing with his finger on his lips that she kept quiet. Neriah forced herself to hold back her smile.
This was not the first time the man would do this. Neriah was used to it by now. She found it very amusing that such a big man could have a childish side like this. He seemed so big and mighty whenever he was all dressed up in his kingly attires walking with his advisors. He always looked like a tower of strength, pride and dominance. One that sent fear down the spine of others. Always towering over whomever he was standing next to, including Barak.
So to see such a man acting this way when he was alone with his wife was quite interesting.
Suddenly, the thought of her dear husband swept across her mind. After somewhat resolving their troubles by making him beg for her forgiveness, their relationship had not really changed. And she liked it that way.
They were still at each other’s throat most of the day, and he still came back to her at night. And almost every night, they did it, and they never ended at one round. Much to her pleasure... Two was the least and she could not begin to think what the max was.
Although she never asked for it, she never refused either.
Their relationship was majorly sexual at least that was how she saw it. There was nothing deep there, and that will continue to be the case.
Without warning, Rakavi picked up a tea spoon and turned on her seat with the swiftness of a hawk picking up a chick from the earth, and her spoon was at her husband’s throat.
"" Hello, my love."" The man froze on the spot.
"" If this were a real knife and we were at war against each other, I would have cut your throat, my darling."" She smiled beautifully and Neriah could not hold the giggle that left her lips. She placed a palm over her mouth as she laughed at the duo.
""He also got you, Your Majesty."" Neriah spoke the tragish language with not as much stress as before. Rakavi’s eyes moved from her husband and followed the direction Neriah’s finger was pointing and realized her husband held a rose against her waist. Indicating that if they really were in battle against each other and he held a knife instead of a rose, he would also have pierced her.
"Urgh," Rakavi groaned and placed her fake knife back upon the table. "But my blow would have been more fatal. He would have no chance of living if I thrust the knife up his throat. A blade to my side can be fatal, yes, but not as surely fatal as one up the throat." The queen lazily pointed out as she received the rose from her husband and as if she had forgotten to add something in her speech, she spoke again, "And also Neriah, you called me Your Majesty again."
Neriah just smiled at her words.
Bashan placed a rather fierce kiss upon her cheek and took a seat next to his wife.
"Aye, I can never win against you. No matter how I try." Bashan took his wife’s hand and placed a kiss upon her knuckle.
Seeing them being so sweet together made Neriah think back to her husband yet again. She remembered that night they first met. How he had talked about love. ’Riah, Love is bold, sure, brave! Never wavering. Love can fear, but it should also fight to conquer that fear honestly. Not by childish tricks. I’ll be damned before I let my woman go without a chance at a proper fight for her! And I promise you, I will never lose such a fight. I never lose!’ Those were the words he had told her. He seemed so sincere then... He seemed so confident that he would never lose a fight for the woman he loved. What about a fight for the woman whom he was married to? He didn’t love her, of this Neriah was sure.
So she wondered, what would a man who said those words do when he finally realized on his deathbed that his wife, a woman he didn’t even love, had betrayed him?