#⋆☀︎｡ amen n ser

[amber-vanth]

snippet from the royal au

Serqet stormed into the hall, hands balled up into fists in her dress, the bunched up fabric most certainly wrinkling in her grip.

Amen was hot on her heels, his posture also rigid with tension. “And where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.

He was met with a scoff. “Anywhere away from you. If you can’t take the hint by me—oh, you know—walking away from you.”

He rolled his eyes at her snarky remark, still insistent in following as she turned a corner hastily. “We’re not done here, Serqet.”

“I say we are.” She kept marching off, determined to at least put some space between them. (Damn him. Damn this castle. Damn him for knowing this castle.)

“You’re walking on a thin line here,” he called after her with a scowl. His stride sped up and he managed to snatch her wrist, tugging it free from her grasp on her skirt.

“I’ve heard that from you before,” Serqet jeered at him, whirling around and attempting to tug her wrist back with a seething glare. “Unhand me before I make you.”

He paid no mind to her threat—even though he knew damn well that she could and would follow through with it—brows drawn in a furrow with his scowl still twisted on his lips. “I thought we agreed to allow those nobles to-”

“I changed my mind. Simple as that. Those nobles were no good.” she said matter-of-factly, lifting her chin somewhat to make her point.

“And you didn’t think to let me know beforehand?” Amen groaned, using his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose briefly before returning to glower at her. “I’m welcome to you challenging my views whether it’s behind closed doors or not—God, you do it nearly every damn day—but don’t you think we could’ve handled that in a more polite, diplomatic way?”

Serqet tugged at her wrist again, this time freeing it and pulling it back towards her so she could smooth her hands down the material of her dress. “Since when have I ever been politely diplomatic?” she retorted.

“Yes, because asking you to at least put in an effort is like asking pigs to fly,” Amen remarked, a tone of grim exasperation coating his voice.

She scoffed once more. “You know just as well as I do that those pigs for nobles were simply aiming to gather unnecessary sources of income.”

“I think you’ve made it very clear of what your opinion is on them with your little display with the use of that sword,” Amen deadpanned. (Perhaps the queen had drawn a sword on her own subjects—but they needed to know their place. He hated how she was right.)

Serqet’s golden eyes narrowed and she took a step closer. Her gaze bold, challenging. “As your queen, I’m simply doing my duties and aiding your own.”

“As my wife, you are infuriating.”

“I’ve heard that from you before too,” she said, letting a smirk crawl onto her lips, “As my husband, what are you going to do about it?”

His eyes darkened as they flitted from her daring gaze to her lips, his frown still on his own. God, she could get him so worked up at times.

“Fucking hell, sunshine,” he sighed out, closing the distance between them in less than two steps, “You’re insufferable.”

Serqet only met him with a widening smirk as he pushed her up against the wall and angled her head into an angry kiss.

“I’m still mad at you,” she reminded him through their heated exchanges, a hint of fond irritation in her voice. “You know I was right.”

He grumbled, lips descending down on her jawline and neck angrily, paying no mind to whatever marks he might leave behind. “Whatever. Just shut up already.”

“You’d think that-” She hissed when he placed a sharp nip on her collarbone, his calloused hands further wrinkling her dress. “that after marriage, we’d stop doing this in the halls.”

“I would’ve had you on that damn table if all those nobles weren’t there, we both know that.”

Serqet emitted an airy laugh. “If I had known that this is how you’d react whenever I threaten someone with a sword, I would’ve done it much soo-”

Amen pulled her in for another angry kiss.

(Yeah, he hated how she was right.)