Willfur
"Congratulations." He tries to sound excited, appropriately celebratory at least, but the syllables fall flat and his normally bright, inquisitive eyes begin to tighten at the corners, focus turning inward instead of out. It had taken him so long to gather his courage and introduce himself to Ipomoea - and that Sovereign had seemed so comfortable in the castle, so in command of himself and everything around him, adjusting the vines and the stones as casually as he now moves flesh and blood and authority - that this sudden coronation and announcement of leaving comes as a shock, a poisonous mixture of confusion and sadness.
Willfur wonders how much more he might have understood about the situation had he not skirted around the edges of the Court for so long, resisting the urge to anchor his life to the library and by extension, those who rule it, but now that he has, he's let himself become entrenched, and defensive in the face of possible change, the ever menacing unknown.
He wonders cynically if Danaë's Delumine will still hold a place for him, if she'll continue in the same manner of quiet tolerance as her father, or rearrange and remake her inheritance like so many children do when given freedom for the first time. Some go mad with it, dismantling everything that came before them in the name of 'independence,' but he has no reason to think this spider-legged daughter might do so or be any less sensible than her predecessor. She's only young, he thinks, her youth and inexperience putting her more at risk of being influenced by emotions - presumably more so than he should be - and the ambitious, angry minds that always hover around centers of power, but that's all the more reason he should be ready to step close, not shrink away. She needs support, people she can rely on and give some of the weight of her new responsibilities, not distrust or dismissal, not misplaced offense.
Ashamed of himself, he silences the negative thoughts and looks at the mare more closely, appraising, softening at the red and the white of her coat, the hollow, spiral horn curling away from her delicate brow, reminiscent of her mother's, but less imposing, though maybe only because he hasn't yet felt its sharpness against his skin.
Would Thana leave too? He wonders, and he's suddenly cognizant of how alone this young woman must feel, shouldered with an entire kingdom and abandoned as lightly as anyone else. He bows his head. "Danaë, I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to introduce myself. I'm Willfur, and I'm very pleased to meet you at last." Now his voice rings with sincerity. "I sometimes lose track of myself, but I hope to be an asset to you and the Court. If there's anything I can do for you, don't hesitate to ask. I'm happy to help in any way that I can."
"speaking"
@Danaë
