A
faint smile touched her lips as the aurum-skinned man responded to her inquiry with a refinement Messalina had not seen since fleeing Algernon. As his lilting accent graciously agreed to lead her to the obscure library, the ivory girl bowed in thanks.
"I am grateful for your kindness.”
Demurely, she followed after him as he strode purposefully down the dim hallway, his pace naturally falling in sync with her own. Curious, she snuck a sidelong glance at the man as he looked away, frost-blue eyes tracing the spiral of his onyx horn. Vaguely, his noble features and discerning emerald eyes echoed of another she’d known long ago, though she’d only ever greeted him in passing—the late Prince Filippe.
She looked away again, frowning at her recollection. It was not the time to dredge up old memories—the solemn citadel was so different, yet the atmosphere was so hauntingly familiar it was playing tricks on her mind. Thankfully, a sonorous voice pulled her from her desolation.
"It is a rather odd time to visit, I confess. But I assure you that I hope not to make a habit of storming castles before daybreak,” she quipped, tugging the corners of her lips into a pensive smile. Messalina's gaze slipped from his as she fixed it forwards, listening amusedly to his remark.
"Delumine’s library is so renowned, I found it difficult to sleep a wink in anticipation. Ah, but that makes it seem like I lead quite a tedious life, feeling excitement for dusty tomes.” The girl’s smile brightened as a light chuckle escaped from her normally stoic composure.
"Though it is true—my days have slowed considerably ever since I arrived here.” More words pressed at her tongue; but a switch that'd been unknowingly flipped instantly returned to its rightful state inside her, and Messalina caught herself before her entire life story could slip from her traitorous mouth. Mother’s piercing glare at the back of her mind sobered her instantly—what was she doing, so uncharacteristically loose-lipped?
"A pleasure to meet you, Somnus.” Strangely, the name weighed at her.
Somnus, Somnus. Why was that name so familiar? Cerulean orbs widened in surprise when she realized.
"You are the regent?” Before he could answer, Messalina's expression had morphed seamlessly into the pleasant mask that slipped over her visage in the presence of nobility. She couldn't keep it off—old habits simply refused to die.
"The honor is mine. I am Messalina, a humble commoner of your Court,” came her perfected, lilting reply.
frozen hearts growing colder with time
