" BEXLEY BRIAR "
Bexley’s interest would not have doubled knowing of Rhoswen’s birthplace, being so new to Novus that the name “Calligo” means almost nothing to her, and yet still she senses something sub-surface in her carmine companion: something not bothersome but obviously out of place, which makes Bexley feel better about her own novel presence in the desert. While neither of them may be Day-Court trained - the kind of calculated violence that lines girls’ pockets with knives, makes men practiced in bow-and-arrow warfare - they are still dangerous as much as any of their peers, in a subtle way of bitter lipstick and bone-white teeth, or ribbons used as nooses. It’s intoxicating.
At the mention of Maxence, Bexley’s nostrils flare, her eyes go cold with derision. A guttural sigh floods from those pale lips. Lucky, she scoffs, with no small amount of dry humor. Bexley is a creature built for pleasure, and interactions with her Day Court monarch have left her wanting - pleasure would not be the first adjective that comes to mind. Her teeth grind before stretching to a grin. I would say he’d be luckier to meet you than the other way around. But I can’t imagine he’d think the same. Bexley snorts, an exhale rife with exasperation.
@rhoswen <3