”Not me.” Morpho didn’t crave anything but peace. ”Suffice to say, greed and selfishness can tear apart the strongest of herds. I was in such a place once, and our leader deserted us in the night, taking the warriors with him and leaving the rest of us to die one by one in the cold.” She shuddered, remembering, not wanting to share anything more of her past with the flower girl. These stories were far from pleasant, and she didn’t want to bring the mare down with her troubles and faces long stamped out by time.
When Florentine talks of Denocte, the astute sage knows it is more than a land that draws her there. It’s something in the way she talks of the Night Court that lets Morpho see more clearly. Her thoughts are confirmed when Florentine mentions loving another from a different court. Nodding with understanding, she offers the girl an encouraging smile. ”Love can be difficult sometimes, but it prevails through the strains of distance and even allegiance. I don’t know that yours would be a forbidden love though – Rannveig seems progressive and welcoming to the Night Court.”
”Love is a thing to be celebrated, whether he is different from you or the same. I’d say, take the leap – go to him, and don’t let duty keep you from your own happiness. You’re in a better position than most – for the Emissary needs to keep relations with all of the others. I should like to see the Night Court as well… perhaps you could take me with you, to convene with the sages? Keep things more official…” She winked to Flora, giving her an out for her tryst and a plausible reason to go to her lover. And through it all, there is a quiet sense of empathy for the girl who is pulled in too many directions. She deserved the freedom she so craved, and more than anything, in this moment Morpho wanted to give it to her.
