𝒯here will come a 𝖕𝖔𝖊𝖙 𝓦hose weapon is ℋis word ℌe will 𝖘𝖑𝖆𝖞 you with 𝖍is 𝓽𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓮 𝒪h lei, ℴh lai, ℴh, 𝓛ord 𝓞h lei, ℴh lai, 𝓸h lei, 𝓸h, Lord ℋe will 𝔰lay you with 𝓗is tongue 𝕺h lei, 𝖔h lai, 𝖔h, 𝕷ord

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ㅤᎢℌ𝗘⠀₍⠀…⠀₎⠀ ᎬᏞ𝐈ᎢᎬㅤ* ㅤ ㅤ✶ㅤ⧽ㅤ 𝓦𝐀RRIOR𓃉ㅤ 𝓞𝓯ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝒩ᎪᎡ𝓝𝐈Ꭺ ㅤ︶︶꒷꒦꒦꒷ ㅤ ㅤ

ㅤ ㅤㅤFor a sickening moment, the queen remained still. Her footsteps were not the only ones, maybe she was no expert around woods as Peter certainly is but she had instinct. From her belt Lucy unsheathed a dagger, the one from Father Christmas a long time ago. ㅤ

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⠀ ⠀⠀ ⁺ ⠀ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍𝙻𝚄𝙲𝚈 ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍𑁤 ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍⠀⤾ 𐙚 ⠀ ㅤ

ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ( 🥺 ) Es que, lo ama demasiado. ㅤ

ㅤ “ A letter indeed. ” Lucy replied, since some rumours came to her about a royal proposal and the High King seemed doubtful on sharing the matter with the now not so youngster. “ It's like he forgets – I am on age for marriage. ” Sighed, not angry at all: nostalgic. ㅤ