SPICED WIIIIINE.
Isabella let a ringing laugh echo off her stone walls. "For certain they'll one day understand what fate has blessed them with. You will be a generous father, I'm sure," she purred, eyes cast to the wall behind where her den was. Hidden in the wall were the gifts Sirius had given her already, even if gifts was the wrong term for her payments. The word sat on the tongue more easily than payment, as though she were some milking cow with goods for sale from the teat. Isabella eyed the King, wondering what his spawn looked like. She only vaguely remembered what the Lykoi woman looked like, and her coloration was fuzzy in her mind. But any get of the Thistle King had to have some kind of raw beauty about them. Perhaps it was far too early to see anything, she figured, with pups so young and fresh from the mother's womb.
His look was ignored, and she met it with a blank one. She was not asking for gifts of glass, as it was not something she needed. The earthenware jugs, mugs, and cups were perfectly fine for her, as it kept her rooted to the mother's soil, especially when she drank of her bounty. Glass might be perfect for fancy to-dos but this was no such thing. A Last Supper was a crude family meal with closeness the goal, not high society.
Her head cocked to the side as she listened to him, keeping her eyes interested though she felt the snakes of jealousy writhe in her belly. The Lykoi women got what she had so far not obtained. When she had desired a child from this man, she did not know but she felt the pangs of motherhood calling to her. And she knew that any children of hers would be beautiful creatures. It was not for love of the man, no. He was a man not for loving, but for fear, respect, and mutual benefit. What a creature they could create, especially if it was blessed with the female gender. A dangerous beauty.
"Softness can be a blessing, my lord. Though not in an eldest son," she acquiesced slowly, not willing to admit her desire to keep the men low. Any son of hers would know his place among the women, and his subservience to them would do them an honor. "I'm sure you will create an heir worthy of your Kingdom, especially as it grows steady on. Like a garden in bloom," she said with a coy smile, looking from him to his cup of warm wine. He kept his eyes on her as he drank it, and she leaned forward, letting her chest press at the the top of the table as she eyed him. "The spices are uncommon, but I think they add a little something.. special. Do you not agree?" she said delicately, draping her fingers close to his arm, careful not to touch him directly.
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