The tea remains warm beneath the Spring sun and in spite of the wind. Florentine watches as its steam rises, hypnotic and beautiful into the air. It fades into nothingness and is gone – like so many things.
Her heart is a tremble in her chest, the crown heavy upon her head. She thinks of how it feels and how she would like to cast it down and never pick it up again. A crown felt an unnatural thing upon her head – too constrictive, too rigid. Florentine was like a river running through a valley – carving her own path, running free. One day she would be wild and the next serene.
Her gaze lifts to him. Amethyst to lilac; so similar, so close. Upon her cushions she shifts, awkward beneath his praise but pleased nonetheless.
“Thank you.” She hums softly and it is for just more than one thing. It is gratitude for being her Regent, gratitude for his faith. Her golden lashes fan the curve of her cheek and she sighs softly, softly.
“Then I had better go and leave you to your packing, Isorath.” Her lips tip into a smile. “I hear festivals take much planning indeed.” Gracefully the flower girl rises from the cushion, petals falling as she ascends. “Thank you for the tea, I might call upon you another day for another cup.”
With that Florentine departs, stepping up upon the sculpted rail, her wings flaring as she steps off the sandstone rail.
@Isorath - ah well this is a surprise but I haven't claimed signos in 6 months and wanted to wrap stuff up nicely so this can be archived. I do hope that is okay? <3 <3
★ She is clothed with strength and dignity,
and she laughs without fear of the future ★
