Florentine listens to his story of love, gilded in gold and fallen from snow-driven lips. It is a story that ensnares her heart, and childish whimsy has her smiling, her heart warming.
“She sounds lovely…” Florentine pauses, her mind still tangled in a place of wisteria flowers and the warm sunshine of love. It is slow awareness that pulls her back to the past tense, and melancholy nostalgia that shapes his eyes. “Why are you two no longer together?”
It is a curious question from a girl so immersed within her first love; a love she has never considered ending. It is a breath, an inhale of tea-infused smoke and snow-dressed trees, and an exhale of winter cold breath.
There is a wisdom to this boy, a manner of charm and politics sings from his every pore. She cannot help but think he was made to bear a crown of gilded gold, where as she would be content to merely string a crown of meadow daisies together and call herself a queen of fancy.
“You are a man of experience and wisdom far beyond my years.” Flora says softly, peering at him from beneath her thick lashes of gold and lilac petals. “I have plans for my council and, now I know you plan to stay with us, will you consider being my Regent, Isorath?”
The twilight girl lets the question linger, hovering and twining between the sensuous curl of steam. “If so, mid winter approaches, and I have plans for a festival. The first thing I ask of you, should you chose the position, is to invite the Dawn Court to our festival.”
@Isorath - just a quicky to lay the foundations for everything :)
★ She is clothed with strength and dignity,
and she laughs without fear of the future ★
