She wonders if this is how a rock in the ocean feels. As it forces the waves to pass around it. Or how the gods feel, oblivious to the woes of the horses she claim to love, uncaring of their pleas. Did the king of Solterra ignore his people, the way the kings she had read about ignored their’s?She can feel a shoulder press into her’s; she stumbles, but she does not fall. Maret only closes her eyes, smiles at the warmth of the sunlight on her face, smiles at the sounds of people chattering and gossiping all around her. The sound of children laughing from the market square makes her want to laugh alongside them - but her smile only grows.
Because in that moment, it feel as though the sun is shining for her and for her alone. Ice glitters like diamond dust against her skin, fracturing the sunlight into a thousand pieces that she wears like a cloak. In a court of Solterrans, a court full of people who worship the midday sun, she imagines that she alone is the only one who truly understands it. Oh, would Solis be proud?
She almost - almost - ignores the stomp that shakes the earth nearby, and the obvious huff aimed in her direction.
Her smile doesn’t falter. If anything, when she opens her eyes and looks at him, her smile becomes daring, emboldened by his ire. She tilts her head endearingly at him, teething flashing bright and white. “Am I bothering you?” she asks sweetly, without moving.
Adults, she thinks defiantly to herself, lifting her chin a fraction higher. Always thinking they knew better.
“I was looking at the sunlight, not the sun,” she tells him matter of factly. She pauses then, meeting his eye. “There’s a difference,” she adds, as it if should be obvious. Had he never looked up at the sky himself? A shame really, considering how beautiful it was. Maret couldn’t imagine how so many adults could spend all their time staring at the ground, when there were so many lovely sights to see.
Dirt, in comparison, was just so -
Boring.
Are you boring, too? she wants to ask him. But with the red creeping along his belly like a rising sun, and the antlers crowning hi head, he certainly didn’t look boring - not here, compared to all the sand-colored horses. He looked bold, if grouchy. So instead she smiles again, and with the same sweetness to her voice asks, “who are you?”
A poem is echoing in her mind the whole time.
Are you nobody, too?
@ezital
