[P] eyes flecked with ash

[Antiope]

If she did not know any better, Antiope might think she were standing in a different world, poised in the middle of the study as though she had stepped out of some portal. As though she had just awoken from a statue-like slumber. The vaulted ceiling is a map of the night skies, blues and golds depicting stars and constellations and planets. The wall of wrought iron framed windows looks out over a garden and courtyard, letting in the late afternoon light.

Antiope feels out of place in this room—shoulders uncertainty like the axe she bears at all times. Like the red ribbon in her hair, like a stain of blood.

Isra is gone, her ship has long since passed the horizon line. The striped woman had seen to her people… Her people. They have been her people for many months, but they are hers in a different way now. It feels like a different way, now. She is more than just a guardian, more than just a protector. She must also be their foundation and their shelter in the hard times, their light in the darkness.

Antiope’s sapphire sharp eyes slip over the lines of asterism on the ceiling and she cannot help but wonder if she will be good enough this time around. A lamp shaped like the moon hangs in the corner of the room, not lit, but still the Sovereign can do nothing but imagine it the watching eye of Caligo.

What does the demi-goddess think of her? That question she had asked herself out in the courts on that moonstone carving lingers in her heart.

How can she trust the gods?

There comes a rasping at the door, before it is pushed open and a familiar, dark-skinned face appears through the opening. “M’lady, the Delumine Sovereign has arrived,” the steward says simply, voice low like a distant rumbling thunder. “Thank you, Sullivan. Please, show him in.” Antiope breathes, and turns away from the everlasting night sky above to greet her visitor.

"Speaking."

---

@Ipomoea

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