fire, fire, shit's on fire
She had been to enough meetings within her life to know the steps of the dance well enough. It was easy to fall into the routine of it all, the familiarity, but never had she been the one leading the dance. Not like this, anyway.
In the wake of the meeting, there was still much to be done. There was more to be done, in all actuality. Speaking and addressing the crowd was the easy part; it was fulfilling the promises that she had made which would prove to be the more difficult things to achieve. She was nothing if not determined, however. Each promise would take time to fulfill. She knew this, and yet…
Time was precious.
Sending couriers, Israfel waited.
The first to arrive was a woman of rich copper, dark points, and ivory locks. She remembered seeing the woman within the meeting, quiet as she stood sentry in a far corner of the courtyard. Stalwart, poised, holding herself prepared… Israfel had served as varying military figures long enough to recognize a soldier when she saw one. A cursory glance gauged the mare’s expression, trying to garner something of what she might be thinking. It wasn’t much.
’You wanted to see me, Lady Israfel?’
The question caused her to sigh. It was better than ‘Your Majesty’, ‘Your Highness’, or ‘Queen Israfel’. Even though this was still so new, the Sun Daughter couldn’t fathom ever growing accustomed to such a title. She was a warrior, through and through, a battlemage with fire in her blood and strength within her body. A stereotypical Queen? No, that would never be her, and she hoped that Denocte would never ask that of her.
“I did,” she said with a crooked, wry grin, vermilion eyes glittering in the light, “We didn’t have the chance to be formally introduced. Are you a soldier?” A brazen question, assumptious at best, but Israfel knew that this copper individual had some sorts of training. It was impossible to ignore or overlook, if one knew what to look for.
@Kamdrick
