A
lready, the sharp chill of dusk bit into her skin as Solis’ rays waned in anticipation of Caligo’s lunar skies. Though she did not mind the cold—she’d always believed that winter’s frosted touch endowed a profound beauty upon the land—her time in temperate Delumine had worn down her tolerance. She shifted her cloak slightly, its rich burgundy folds retaining what little heat still clung to her pelt as she draped it higher upon her shoulders. Yet the dwindling light only accentuated the hue of the blue gems, their endless depths reminiscent of the mirror lake she had passed just before she’d reached the outskirts of the city. Messalina marveled once again at the piece’s craftsmanship before she reluctantly tore her gaze from it entirely, shifting instead to examine the boy behind it. What talents lay buried in his lithe, painted frame, she wondered?The flurry of words that tumbled from him surprised the girl, as she had not expected her comment to be met with such earnest zeal. His aquamarine eyes shined as bright as his lovely creations when he spoke, and a pair of dainty wings flared out from behind his charcoal ears as if echoing his delight. She had never seen anything like it, her eyes widening a fraction in interest as she traced over the downy feathers—coupled with his nearly infectious energy, Messalina found him quite fascinating. But then she remembered her manners, and orbs of frost blue flitted away in courtesy as she received his greeting.
Simo was unlike anyone she had interacted with before. As part of her duties, she’d often accompanied Mother’s most esteemed clients to all types of formal events, a hollow smile permanently fixed to her countenance as she lavished flatteries upon the insufferable men. She'd had little choice but to indulge their insatiable egos the best she knew how; thankfully, shallow words whispered in a honey-sweet tone worked like a charm. But this boy, eyes as blue as a spring morning, possessed an innocence that radiated a rosy glow about his whole being, and Messalina found her lips quirking up into a smile as genuine as his. Words bubbled out of her easily, sincerity coating each syllable.
As he fussed over the appearance of his booth (she was not yet aware of Denocte's odd hours of operation), her ears flicked forwards to catch his last words. How he had detected her Delumine origins mystified her, and she was not familiar enough with Novus to know which realm Simo himself hailed from. Though to Messalina, he fit Denocte’s reputation of artistry perfectly.
frozen hearts growing colder with time
Simo is a precious bean <3
