The atmosphere in the room changes - Ipomoea wonders if Somnus and Ulric can feel it, too. Surely they must? Pavetta’s hooves are still echoing on the tile down the hall, through the closed door, but it’s as if a weight has settled over them in her wake.
Outside the birds are still singing, and the sun is still shining; but inside, the world seems suddenly a bit darker.
A mottled ear flicks in Somnus’ direction at his sigh. He lifts his chin, leveling his gaze with the king’s. But there’s a shadow in those pink eyes of his, an understanding; the world was changing.
Was he ready to change with it? Was Delumine?
He lets Ulric speak first, listening closely to the roan’s words. All the while, his wings are fluttering open and closed at his ankles, extending and folding seemingly in slow motion. It’s as if he’s thinking through them; like the wheels of a cog turning, the strands of a thread spinning together, his mind is at work even as his wings dance.
Ipomoea shakes his head slightly. ”Ulric is right,” he starts, ”there are several who would fit the role.” His brow creases - it feels strange, wrong even, to give away the rank only moments after it was abandoned. He thinks of Pavetta, and before her, Orion; two Emissaries, both of whom had stepped down from their positions.
”Mateo is well read, this is true; but when is the last time he left the Court? Or the last time Eulalie did?” He steps forward, and his frown deepens. ”Our next Emissary must be more than well-read. They must be willing to travel, they must spend more time outside of Delumine than within.”
His eyes flicker from Ulric to Somnus slowly. ”What about Regis or Anemone, your grace? They’re young, but I see the adventurous side within both of your children… perhaps with another year, and training, they would be suited for such a role.”
He could see that spark, because it was a spark Ipomoea had had at that age; a spark he had when he, too, had served as Emissary.
Their next Emissary would need that spark, too. If they didn’t, they might very well end up as the Emissaries before them.
hearts are breaking
wars are raging on
you’ve got me nervous
i’m at the end of my rope
hey, man, we can’t all be like you
i wish we were all rose-colored too
my rose-colored boy
@Somnus @
”here am i!“
