BEXLEY BRIAR
It’s too late, now, for her to change any of it - to rework the story and shutter her weaknesses, especially too late to turn back around and do everything differently, to fight instead of flee this time, as she’s wanted to do since the moment her homeland disappeared behind her. Too late to pretend it doesn’t hurt. It all seems so stupid to be overwhelming her now, only moments after Sera places so much responsibility in her hands, but too late, now, she reminds herself, too late for anything and she’ll just have to deal with it -
She feels Seraphina’s gaze weighting down on her necklace and swallows. The cold metal bites, just barely, into the curve of her neck; it is a reminder of a time long gone, but not so far gone it doesn’t still hurt.
Easier to swallow than you might expect. Of course - Bexley watches the collar at the Sovereign’s throat and is hit with an almost-searing sense of guilt, of shame, as she realizes just how much Seraphina might resonate with the pain and the fire and everything hard to swallow, more than anyone else Bex can think of. Of course she can accept the savagery of the Briar family. She knows it intimately. It’s almost certainly the same passed-down brutality that ran rampant in Zolin’s own line, when they ruled Solterra with a bloodied fist - and for that Bexley feels almost guilty, though it’s no fault of her own.
Thank you, she answers as Seraphina leaves, startled from her reverie by the pinprick of excitement that comes with the mention of tomorrow morning and everything that comes with it. For a moment after the Sovereign disappears, she remains, glancing out the still-shattered windows to watch the incoming flood of low, dusty light; then she blows out a cool exhale and turns back toward the door, descending the steps in quick strides.
@
