jane
Waking in the morning, Jane heard the voices brimming in the street. The house was empty save for a number of servants, and even they were due to leave in a short amount of time. This was their day, after all, the day where classes were usurped and where kings kissed the feet of ploughmen. At the base of Jane’s bed was a set of white clothes, looking almost like the bedsheets that she currently reclined in.
Once dressed, the mare stepped over to the window and looked to the street below. The sun was already high in the sky, piercing through the glass and hitting the ground. She squinted against it, pushing open the sill. The heat rushed into the room like a wave, and Jane could already feel the sweat of the day, the uncomfortable throng of people pushing and undulating like the tide against the shore.
On the corner of one of the streets she saw someone she recognised; a daughter of the neighbour’s, Marie, with one of the colts. A palomino, the filly laughed loud at the sight of her compatriot, flushed as he stepped around her. “Let’s go and be strangers, Marie!” called the strange colt, and the two of them trotted in the direction of the festival.
Ah, yes, the feast. Jane closed the windows and stepped into the street. It was just as she imagined, the smell of food and alcohol flowing through the air; honey-like. Her stomach growled, still unconditioned from her time lacking. She went to the headquarters, where she saw an aunt in a white robe of her own.
“Jane, you should have been here half an hour ago,” the older mare said, a severe dapple grey whose voice never seemed to show a lick of kindness. She reminded Jane a bit of her former companion. “Come on, now, grab some drinks and make yourself useful.” The mare glanced at a coworker, and the silent interaction told Jane that they were mocking her. Ignoring it, she turned and did as was requested. She stepped out of the station.
Where was the king, she wondered. She had never seen the stallion, although it was true that she had not been here long. Her ears had caught the hint of whispers, of some sort of grudge between him and his younger brother (it was younger, yes?). But mostly, she had heard he was beautiful. Jane had been in town on the day that the phoenix had come, had been in the crowd as its red feathers smouldered. It had not looked at her, but she had seen into its eyes, a type of fire that spoke to what its patron might contain.
She heard that he was a pegasus, that he looked like liquid gold. Adonai. God, in some of the languages she had learned. It certainly intrigued the mind.
Jane wandered through the crowd with her drinks, ignored the fillies who had long since made their own groups of friends. The cruelty of it rankled inside Jane, made her feel bitter. She was as good as them- she had stories to contribute. She had been admired by a man. They could learn from her.
But it meant nothing to them, because she was not from Novus. She was a foreigner, who spoke with a foreigner’s lilt to her struggling tongue. She had intrigued, at first, to the wandering eyes that sought her out, but that was no longer. She meant nothing to them.
After an hour or two had passed, Jane felt exhaustion upon her body. The sun sucked everything out of her, and she could hardly drink the liquor she carried. Eventually, her childhood gripped her and she sought refuge in the alleyways of the Day Court, and then into an Inn. She found a back corner where she could hide without being found; and then fell into a deep, lonely daze.
@[Aislinn] / speaks / excited to write with you!
