Hot-blooded men make war. It’s up to cool-headed queens like us to make the peace.

Hot-blooded men make war. It’s up to cool-headed queens like us to make the peace.

Mark Noce
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I’m all alone against the darkness. Dark winds rising against me.

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A sudden yearning to hold Artagan close overtakes me, to smell the scent of his skin and run my hands through his tousled black hair. He will soon ride into peril again as he has many times before. No matter how often he rides away, I never get used to it.

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My blood runs cold. Her savage stare and bloodied hands leave no doubts in my mind as she glares up at us from across the battlefield. This must be the fabled Queen of the Picts.

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Hot-blooded men make war. It’s up to cool-headed queens like us to make the peace.

Mark Noce, Dark Winds Rising
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