Her name in his mouth is something hungry and awe-inspiring; Bexley’s steps might have faltered, if she was a lesser being, but as things are she gives him half a smirk and leaves it at that. The grin she receives in return is genuine and comfortable. It’s strange that Bexley is so relaxed. Usually she would be hyperaware of Reichenbach’s mouth and his movements and the tone of his voice, what she should be doing to move forward, to gain something from this, to twist him to her will - instead she finds herself easily in step beside him, not trusting, not exactly, but with something like respect already. It’s an uncommon thing.
If you weren't born here, how was it you found Novus? The bullet of Bexley’s heart misfires, then ricochets. Her jaw tightens. In her head emerges the grisly image of bleached bone and behind it a carmine splash of gore, one Briar-blue eye, the smell of flesh rotting. It’s gone as quickly as it comes, but leaves a residue that she knows she will never exactly be rid of. Her necklace goes suddenly hot. She inhales deeply, takes a careful step, lets all her teeth show as she talks in some mockery of a smile - “Oh, you know. Typical runaway story. Disgraced queen-to-be and all of that, but.” The smile spreads, one of genuine humor this time, thinking of how much she’s neglecting to mention. “I don’t miss it anyway. Solterra? i - “
A minute pause steals into Bexley’s voice. It’s impossible to decide how much she should be sharing - he’s a man, but a nice one - a stranger, but a kind one - a horrifying mixture of what Bexley hates, then adores. She searches his face. And of course she can’t know, not really, but she has a feeling about him, an instinct that tells her to say yes, to give in to the idea that they could grow to be friends, grow into a world where Bexley wouldn’t have to think so much about what comes out of her mouth, wouldn’t have to calculate every breath and movement, a tiny space for her to be sincere in.
“I love the sun,” she says finally. Her voice reverberates with a genuine wistfulness, the first hint of something warm, even affectionate, that has crossed her lips in quite a while. She turns to look at Reich and grins. “Always have. The Court itself doesn't matter to me. I don’t care about Maxence, I don’t care about anyone that lives there, they don’t have to like me. I care about the sun. And summer and beaches and the shortest nights possible. That’s what matters to me - light.”
Satisfied, she lapses into silence. For a moment there is only the smell of the ocean stealing towards them, the comforting warmth of a body at her side, and a warm, childish satisfaction that hums, like the huge sound of honeybees, in Bexley’s chest. “Let me guess,” she says suddenly. “Day and Night. Are we supposed to be enemies? Not that I'd know anything about it.” A laugh bubbles from deep in her throat; she bumps her slender shoulder against his side affectionately, then sidles ahead, curls bouncing, a good mood flaming across her skin like the sunlight she cares so deeply for.
@Reichenbach <33
