| 'You know how Nyimara gets in the fall. Can't keep her hands to herself,' Rehoboam quips with a sly wink. Marceline shoots him a curious look, but quickly tames it into one of neutrality as she turns to face Nyimara. One of the first thing Marceline notes is the swell of her stomach. Nyimara is quick to excuse herself because of it, and Marceline simply nods, indicating with a motion of her head towards her own expanding belly. "I know what you mean."
Their conversation continues easily, and Marceline plows forward like Rehoboam isn't there. To be honest, she isn't concerned about the Lagoon. Not when she has so recently bested them and taken one of theirs for her own. Besides, they're nothing - a band of so-called brothers held only by the loosest of bonds that were bound to come undone at any minute. They were no more a threat to her than an annoying fly. "Oh Rehoboam," she purrs at him when he interrupts, grinning wickedly, "come now. Didn't mommy ever teach you about sharing?" Nyimara butts in then, and Marceline lets loose an airy laugh. "Poor man. Perhaps he should find himself a bit more to drink." She coos in false sympathy, snickering to Nyimara as they share a joke at Rehoboam's expense. She's sure he's smart enough to realize it - even an idiot could - but with luck he won't take it too personally and won't hold it against her. After all, he might come in handy later as a potential ally. It'd be a shame to get him up in arms over a little light joking. It's reassuring to know that Nyimara still has her back. She's not found any need to all on her allies so far, but should that ever change, there is comfort in knowing that someone as strong as Nyimara or as clever as Rafe will stand next to her. Marceline nods her understanding, happy with the response given, and the conversation moves forward. The Hills queen can't help but chuckle at Nyimara's next words. She isn't entirely sure if she's joking or not; the silver-haired woman is often hard to read, even for someone as similar as Marceline. If Nyimara truly thinks she has any claim to Rafe, she's quite mistaken. So far no woman has been capable of taking that beast, though admittedly Marceline isn't really wanting to taming him, let alone keeping him for herself. It'd be like trying to rule the tides - utterly impossible. And she has little interest in men beyond reproductive purposes; not since that fiasco involving her lover and her king those many years ago. "Of course," Marceline says smoothly, lips curled into a coquettish smirk. "He's kept himself quite busy from what I understand of my last visit. But I'm sure our plans will come to fruition quickly nonetheless." She pauses a moment, then asks, "What do you know of the stallion in the Desert?" She's yet to meet her neighbor to the west, who only just took up residence in the land weeks ago, but she wonders if Nyimara has had the chance to talk to him. She doesn't bring up the topic of Joachim just yet, waiting to see if Nyimara might encroach on the subject herself. Marceline doesn't want to give away their relationship just yet, but she knows at some point Nyimara will inevitably find out. Perhaps hearing it from her own mouth is best, Marceline figures. ------- |
| no one calls you honey WHEN YOU'RE SITTING ON THE THRONE ( the red queen of the hills. ) |