[That before she had chosen Meridian she had fantasized a thousand times about finally being able to save someone? ... Yubari was her twin in looks, the both of them sharing the same dun coat and dark manes of their dam. They had the same curve to their withers, the same elegant cut of cheekbone, the same stormy gray eyes. But Yubari... Yubari was softer than her. Kinder than her. She'd had to harden him from the moment he left the foaling stables and joined her in the yearlings' quarters. He was a fine archer, but his hands were far more cleverly put to use in the crafting of things than the killing of them.]
Yubari was the only one who ever believed in me. That I was just as good as any stallion. That I would become a warlord's horse.
[And for that... he had nearly died. He now risked being known as the brother of a traitor. Hayame's hand in Set's hair stays gentle, (because she... it made her so sick when she felt hands fist too tightly or pull at her mane), but her other fingers curl tightly on her foreknee. Even if she'd tried to pretend to be a Zenith just long enough to get his shard... Then he would be the brother of a traitor, and more than that... More than that-]
Were you not the one who told me I must return to my world and live, rather than die? I will have the real Yubari, not some rock from a witch.
[So she won't... She won't ask for his shard. (She won't admit that she'd always agonized over who to chose between Yubari and Matsukaze.) She mulls over Set's words instead, and the story he tells of chasing his sister throughout the lands of Egypt to solidify his claim on Osiris' throne. She mulls over... the hints of bitterness she can hear in his tone, and what they might mean. (What she fears they might mean.)]
... Women are expected to be loyal to their husbands, even over ties to brothers or fathers.
[Not that it would ease the betrayal. She knew about betrayal, without being a goddess. Her fingers slow in Set's mane, her thumb rubbing along the hairline of his forehead. ... So red. She never stops being amazed at how red it was.]
Even after death. Even if it is to their detriment.
[That is what it is to be a good and loyal wife. ... Or so she understands. She had never thought to be be one. She will never be one. She is... a warrior. One who wonders now...]
... Would you have ruled Egypt properly, if she had wed you?
[If he had not become obsessed with finding her, and instead took to the throne without difficulty... would he have been called an "evil god"? She cannot truly imagine him ever being lauded as a god of peace (apparently that was his other sister's role), but. She could envision him ruling firmly but justly.
Or perhaps she just wished it were so, and deluded herself now simply because she had always hoped that when she became a warlord's horse that the man she would serve would be... not consummately evil.]
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[That before she had chosen Meridian she had fantasized a thousand times about finally being able to save someone? ... Yubari was her twin in looks, the both of them sharing the same dun coat and dark manes of their dam. They had the same curve to their withers, the same elegant cut of cheekbone, the same stormy gray eyes. But Yubari... Yubari was softer than her. Kinder than her. She'd had to harden him from the moment he left the foaling stables and joined her in the yearlings' quarters. He was a fine archer, but his hands were far more cleverly put to use in the crafting of things than the killing of them.]
Yubari was the only one who ever believed in me. That I was just as good as any stallion. That I would become a warlord's horse.
[And for that... he had nearly died. He now risked being known as the brother of a traitor. Hayame's hand in Set's hair stays gentle, (because she... it made her so sick when she felt hands fist too tightly or pull at her mane), but her other fingers curl tightly on her foreknee. Even if she'd tried to pretend to be a Zenith just long enough to get his shard... Then he would be the brother of a traitor, and more than that... More than that-]
Were you not the one who told me I must return to my world and live, rather than die? I will have the real Yubari, not some rock from a witch.
[So she won't... She won't ask for his shard. (She won't admit that she'd always agonized over who to chose between Yubari and Matsukaze.) She mulls over Set's words instead, and the story he tells of chasing his sister throughout the lands of Egypt to solidify his claim on Osiris' throne. She mulls over... the hints of bitterness she can hear in his tone, and what they might mean. (What she fears they might mean.)]
... Women are expected to be loyal to their husbands, even over ties to brothers or fathers.
[Not that it would ease the betrayal. She knew about betrayal, without being a goddess. Her fingers slow in Set's mane, her thumb rubbing along the hairline of his forehead. ... So red. She never stops being amazed at how red it was.]
Even after death. Even if it is to their detriment.
[That is what it is to be a good and loyal wife. ... Or so she understands. She had never thought to be be one. She will never be one. She is... a warrior. One who wonders now...]
... Would you have ruled Egypt properly, if she had wed you?
[If he had not become obsessed with finding her, and instead took to the throne without difficulty... would he have been called an "evil god"? She cannot truly imagine him ever being lauded as a god of peace (apparently that was his other sister's role), but. She could envision him ruling firmly but justly.
Or perhaps she just wished it were so, and deluded herself now simply because she had always hoped that when she became a warlord's horse that the man she would serve would be... not consummately evil.]