Red is the color of blood. It’s the color of life, and death. Of family. Of passion, and sex.
It’s the color of murder, and war. Of anger, and of pain.
Red is the color of fate.
Am I worth this? Smith wonders. Am I worth protecting? Am I worth fighting for?
Ross senses Smith’s conflicted thoughts as he watches the emotions shape his face.
“What is it?” Ross asks. He holds onto Smith’s fingertips.
Am I worth dying for? Smith wants to say.
Instead, he look up at Ross and asks, “Will I make a rightful king?”
CW: Death, Blood, Swords, Dead Bodies, War, mention of drinking, mention of graves
If I need to tag anything else, let me know.
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