FLORENTINE
always one decision away from a totally different life
There is a desperate sadness that clings to Israfel. It is there in the downward set of her eyes, gleaming like tears along her fire-gold eyelashes. Florentine studies her, breathes out a sigh, soft as doves between her lips.
That smile Israfel lets slip across her lips does not possess the joy she has seen before. It is a ghost of the happiness, vitality that Israfel once had. The once-queen’s eyes draw like fingertips along Israfel’s cheek and wonders what sadness has laid such darkness into the hollows of her cheeks.
The air smells sweet and potent with the liquor in her grasp. It should be humorous and it might have been, but for the sorrow. They stand, two girls gilded by light, darkened by loss. Israfel has lost Ulric, Florentine had lost her children. Israfel had her daughter, estranged, Lysander was so far from Florentine’s embrace. A world away…
“It is good to see you too Isra.” And Flora steps closer, into the place wher Israfel’s body heat warms the air between them. “The usual…” She whispers back, discontent with the other woman’s answer. They had known each other so long but the path of their relationship was rocky, each suffered bruises, were they close enough for Florentine to say what lay across her lips? Would Israfel confide?
The fae-woman does not know, but the words come anyway, “The usual should not cause you this much hurt. What is wrong?” Beneath the thick wash of her forelock, Florentine gazes at Israfel, her amethyst eyes wide, sorrowful. Where has she been? She sighs, and her eyes trickle away, peering out across the grounds as if she hoped to see Lysander and her children, her father, her brother, all of them returned. “I went to unite my family but my efforts only served to scatter us more.”
@Israfel
★ She is clothed with strength and dignity,
and she laughs without fear of the future ★
