It seemed that her peace was not meant to last.
At the sound of hooves in the sand, she turned, mismatched eyes creeping apathetically over the delicate creature approaching her; it was that perhaps ornamental man that she’d noticed in the last gathering. She racked her brain for anything that she knew about him. They’d never actually met, though she did seem to recall that he had been around for a while – and he was one of the sages, wasn’t he? Seraphina didn’t know his name, but she was relatively sure of his profession. She had caught sight of him in the Keep from time to time as she went about her duties, draped across heaps of silken fabric. She supposed that lovely things suited a lovely creature, and he certainly was a lovely creature, with a coat that gleamed like precious metals, long, dark tresses, and eyes of pure gold. He could put the starlit desert sky to shame, if it weren’t for the look of displeasure constantly etched across his elegant features…
Her expression did not shift when she perceived the venom in his smooth intonation, nor the harsh implications of his words. “It would do him little good to lock up his Emissary,” She replied, without missing a beat, voice bleeding the dialect of Day - no trace of a foreign tongue here. (She noted that his voice reminded her of Avdotya's, colored with that intonation that is not-quite the Day Court proper. What is it? Where are they from?) “And what about you? Should I expect to wake up tomorrow morning and discover another prisoner in the dungeons?” Seraphina would be lying if she were to say that she didn’t harbor any anger towards Maxence for capturing Rostislav, especially considering that he hadn’t bothered to inform her of his plans beforehand. This was the sort of action that could lead to war without proper diplomatic intervention, and they were in no position to fight one right now – drained of resources and void of allies. She feared that the Day Court would find itself embroiled in yet another conflict that it wouldn’t see the end of; the thought of death or failure (often two and the same) had never particularly bothered her as a Warrior, but now her job was peace, alliance, to steer the court free of such rash actions. The realization that she may very well have failed so early on had hit her like cold water, and she was left with an itching sensation whenever she thought about it, like ants crawling beneath the skin.
Her chief concern was not particularly with the righteousness or the justice of Maxence’s actions; it mattered little to her now. Past actions could not be changed, so she had to keep her eyes on the horizon-
As ever.
@Velorca <3
At the sound of hooves in the sand, she turned, mismatched eyes creeping apathetically over the delicate creature approaching her; it was that perhaps ornamental man that she’d noticed in the last gathering. She racked her brain for anything that she knew about him. They’d never actually met, though she did seem to recall that he had been around for a while – and he was one of the sages, wasn’t he? Seraphina didn’t know his name, but she was relatively sure of his profession. She had caught sight of him in the Keep from time to time as she went about her duties, draped across heaps of silken fabric. She supposed that lovely things suited a lovely creature, and he certainly was a lovely creature, with a coat that gleamed like precious metals, long, dark tresses, and eyes of pure gold. He could put the starlit desert sky to shame, if it weren’t for the look of displeasure constantly etched across his elegant features…
Her expression did not shift when she perceived the venom in his smooth intonation, nor the harsh implications of his words. “It would do him little good to lock up his Emissary,” She replied, without missing a beat, voice bleeding the dialect of Day - no trace of a foreign tongue here. (She noted that his voice reminded her of Avdotya's, colored with that intonation that is not-quite the Day Court proper. What is it? Where are they from?) “And what about you? Should I expect to wake up tomorrow morning and discover another prisoner in the dungeons?” Seraphina would be lying if she were to say that she didn’t harbor any anger towards Maxence for capturing Rostislav, especially considering that he hadn’t bothered to inform her of his plans beforehand. This was the sort of action that could lead to war without proper diplomatic intervention, and they were in no position to fight one right now – drained of resources and void of allies. She feared that the Day Court would find itself embroiled in yet another conflict that it wouldn’t see the end of; the thought of death or failure (often two and the same) had never particularly bothered her as a Warrior, but now her job was peace, alliance, to steer the court free of such rash actions. The realization that she may very well have failed so early on had hit her like cold water, and she was left with an itching sensation whenever she thought about it, like ants crawling beneath the skin.
Her chief concern was not particularly with the righteousness or the justice of Maxence’s actions; it mattered little to her now. Past actions could not be changed, so she had to keep her eyes on the horizon-
As ever.
@Velorca <3
I'M IN A ROOM MADE OUT OF MIRRORSand there's no way to escape the violence of a girl against herself.☼please tag Sera! contact is encouraged, short of violence
