[P] castles in the air

[Messalina]

     

     

     
     M E S S A L I N A . //
     

     

   

Should she be concerned with the intensity of her stare upon the towering silhouette in front of her? Possibly, had she not detected the very same unabashed attention in his gaze towards her. As a result, she refused to shift her eyes away in feigned modesty—social conventions should be abandoned from time to time, she mused, and she reckoned he would not mind regardless. As his cavernous eyes swept over her, Messalina felt that he’d memorized every detail that converged to complete the porcelain ballerina she was, nestled prettily atop an ever-turning pedestal. She remained unbothered however—the sooner he realized there lay nothing below the surface, the sooner he’d lose interest and leave. It was a tired act she’d played along with far too many times.

His voice rumbled through the air, in a pitch so low she thought it almost soothing. Which was odd, as his presence wasn’t soothing at all—not that his physical looks unnerved her, but the fact that he’d witnessed the spectacle she’d made of herself earlier… even pondering upon that moment sent a unpleasant prickle through her skin. “I am glad to hear that, for I admit I was growing weary,” she responded, sincerity lacing her words as she glanced over to the horizon, the distance that still remained mocking her in its ember glory. As the man’s lips continued to move, his sonorous voice blanketing her like a swathe of velvet, Messalina’s attention at once snapped back to him as the word ‘emissary’ resonated casually from his jaws. Was fate taunting her in excess today? It was not enough for her to make a fool of herself in front of merely anybody—no, it had to be a ranked official, the first one she’d encountered in Novus. Lovely.

“I am honored for your company, sir. I… was not aware that I was in the presence of Denocte’s emissary. Please excuse my manners,” she managed to speak, her voice steady despite her inner agitation. The girl’s training was so ingrained that leaving out an obligatory title—now that she knew his position—was impossible, but she refrained from bowing again. It would be overkill at this point. After his declaration, the Emissary only gave her a moment to process his offer before pivoting his body and beginning the descent down into his court; he expected her to follow, and she complied tensely, lengthening her stride to walk alongside him at his shoulder. Midnight orbs glanced down towards her as they traversed the tricky terrain, breaking the silence with a light question. She considered it for a moment before responding.

"I have heard rumors of your court, about the talents of the populace and how night reigns over day. Its festivities never end, and its fires burn brighter than those in any other kingdom. I wished to see these sights with my own eyes, as those are all foreign concepts to me.” Her answer was carefully given, as her true reason remained unsaid. Perhaps she would touch upon it later, after the Emissary entrusted her with his name; she dared not ask for it so brazenly now.

The path narrowed then, forcing her to draw closer to the winged official. Her slim shoulder brushed against the ridges of his folded wing, and the girl flinched at the sudden contact, an ivory hoof slipping from its grip on the frozen rock face. In that split second, sandwiched between the cliff wall and the Emissary, Messalina knew that if she lost her balance she would knock the man dangerously close to the crumbling edge. He had wings, yes, but she couldn't trust them to open in time to save him. With a forceful push of her hind legs, she leapt forward; combined with the momentum of her fall, she landed many lengths ahead of where she’d been, lean muscles straining to keep herself balanced as her hooves slid across the ice-covered trail. Perilously close to the ledge, she finally gathered enough traction to push against the ground and spring backwards. As she fought to catch her breath, Messalina wordlessly thanked all those hours of dance that had honed her agility to be almost catlike. Cerulean eyes dilated with adrenaline met the gaze of her surprised companion. "I apologize. I lost my footing for a moment,” she murmured, and a faint smile colored her lips as she struggled to contain the shiver of panic coursing through her.

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@Lothaire
notes: i threw some action in there to spice things up ;o;