BEXLEY BRIAR
Bexley is stilled by the presence of the stranger, and the just-cold wind that touches her gossamer skin, sending a stay-in-place chill up her spine; she regards Eik from across the pond with cool indifference, and a faint smile ghosts with permanence across her lips. She sways slightly on those dished opaline hooves. It’s fascinating, the tension between them. And how long has it been since her last really interesting encounter? A spark of interest goes fluorescent deep within Bexley’s chest.
What is winter like here?
Bold of him, to assume she’s a native, but all the same she feels a sense of satisfaction. Bexley Briar, a Solterran. No longer the princess of Greer-Briar. An entirely new entity, something gold and warm, a girl in her element, so convincingly confident no one could guess she’s not from these parts. She feels the flood of relief like sunlight into her veins, comforting against the oncoming chill of the later day. Something shallowly amused - a real smile? a smirk? - splits her lips, creasing velvet.
I wouldn’t know, she answers, silvery. Those azure eyes follow him as he wades into the pool and, moments later, melts to calmness. It’s charming to see someone so defenseless in a court built on knife’s-edge sharpness. I arrived here last spring - toward the end of spring, even - I’ve only heard from others that it’s mild in Solterra. Bex squints against the white light that rains down upon the two of them. She inhales deeply, breath hitching for a moment in the lowermost curve of her chest, and then, with a near-dead curiosity ringing in her tone, ventures to ask, And when did you get here?
A moment later, so quiet, almost forlornly: Did you have a chance to meet Maxence?
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