The weeks since her head to head with Rehoboam had passed rather comfortably for her. Despite the few scrapes and welts left behind from the onslaught of hoof and teeth, her body was quick to recover and now the only reminder of their confrontation lay in the growing swell of her belly. What put the icing on the cake so to speak, was the dark vehomence with which he glared at her each time she passed. That made it all worth while.

Seeing him now with Marceline awoke a new sort of irritation in her that Nyimara was not quite comfortable with. Flashbacks from her days sulking in Siobhan and Bjorn's shadow resurface with new life. Watching from a distance the ease with which the two conversed plucked at the thorns within her, causing her forward steps to be placed with a bit more emphasis than necessary. Once more, he greets her barbed tongue with sarcasm and despite herself, she finds the knowing smirk drawing across her ashen lips. Pointedly, she brushes past him, bumping his gray and white side with the growing swell of her belly. If she could not unsettle him with her usual sense of authority, at least she could use another arrow from her quiver of tricks. A sly grin spreads across her ashen lips as she turns her attention once more to the red-spotted mare. "I just cant seem to get around nearly as quickly these days. Thankfully it will be soon over." she purrs arching her neck to allow her ashen lips to trace the swell of her belly for a brief moment. Dark eyes glare up at Rehoboam for a mere moment as wordlessly the implication hangs between them. Yes, she would let him think this was his child for however long it seemed beneficial. Right now, it was a perfectly placed goading pawn.

Marceline draws her attention again and like the red queen, Nyimara feels a mischevious smile tugging the corners of her ashen labrums upwards in the beginnings of a grin. More interesting? Oh she planned on it. A knowing chuckle echoes from within her, causing her sides to shiver. A gleam dances in her dark eyes but she finds no need to respond to Marceline's words with her own comment. They both knew all too well of her reputation and the silver haired woman was not about to start disappoint anytime soon. She tries to shoo away Rehoboam as politely as possible without a vicious display of raging hormones but like the annoying youth he was, he simply refuses to take a hint. That or her purposefully was trying to irritate her. The latter seemed like a more resonable assumption given the recent events that had transpired between them. Dark ears fall backwards beneath the tangled curls of her silver white mane as Nyimara fixes him within her steady glare. His languid demeanor more and more annoying to her as the weeks of her pregnancy grew shorter. He would pay for that one later.

As was her fashion, the spotted queen gets right to the point. It was a rather endearing trait that Nyimara found a welcome change to the usual colored chatter that surrounded diplomatic conversations. However, on this occasion, the persistant presence of Rehoboam made that trait rather annoying. She surely did not intend for the Lagoon to know of her plans or where her allegiences lay. As expected, Marceline's words clearly intrigue Rehoboam and she does not miss the curiosity that seems to lighten his tone.

The Dunes queen struggles to silence the growl in her throat as he scoffs at the idea of a united Salem and even goes so far to prod at Marceline with his dry sense of humor. This time she finds herself reaching for him to plant what she hoped might appear to Marceline as an affectionate nip on his shoulder. Deep down, Rehoboam and she both knew that it was far from it. Later... she promises herself. Now was not the time.

Flashing the red queen another smile as her attention once more returns to her guest, Nyimara straightens with a forward tilt of her small ears. "Forgive his rudeness my friend, the sun seems to be getting to him. Hasn't quite figured out how to pace himself yet." she begins with a teasing flash in her eyes. She flicks her long pale tail casually against her hips as she continues. "Of course I have full intentions of keeping our bargain in place as long as I can still rely on the rest of Salem to come to my defense... should the need ever arise." she purrs pointedly ignoring the question Rehoboam had lain in the open. To be honest, she planned to wear the crown as sole soverign, if it were a perfect world. However, if gaining an army to back her claim meant playing the part of dutiful joint ruler than that was exactly what she would do. Her vendettas against Solomon and the rest of the Isles was a bit more important than the crown of one island.

Determined not to let uncomfortable silence settle between them, Nyimara uses this meeting of the minds to her advantage. It has been some time since she explored the rest of Salem and only the gods know what might have changed. "I take it my handsome Rafe is still holding strong in the Badlands?" she asks blinking innocently up at Marceline from beneath the thick veil of her pale forelock. Of course she had no real claim over the brindle stallion, nor was sher certain she ever wanted one. Cato served as the guiding wire to hold their herds together but aside from a shared offspring, she had not found much need or desire to share in his company. She had her own conquests and continuing to build a relationship with him was not one of them. He served his purpose as the King of the Badlands and that was about it. However that was not about to stop her from throwing her weight around, even to an ally.