Deirdre
The Sorrowful Rose of Ulster
They said I’d bring ruin. I brought love.
I lived in exile for love, far from halls and crowns. I laughed by a fire in Alba with the man who was my whole world. But kings twist fate like rope, and when I came home, love was drowned in blood. I wear sorrow like others wear jewels. I speak little, but when I do, the bards listen. My grief is older than their songs.
What I'm Into: wilderness hearths, the sound of his voice, blood on stone, false promises, Ulster winds
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