Though her eyes hold mine as I react to her news and offer my own sympathies, it would seem she cannot bring herself to maintain eye contact. Her gaze wanders, finding any microcosm to hold her interest. To distance herself from this painful conversation. I don't blame her. But I keep my pale gaze fixed on her. Her delicate beauty, the flowers that frame her face, her neck. Everything about her is gentle -- except the dagger at her breast, even more so the fierce rage that burns inside her. She is a false spectacle in this way. The beauty that masks the rage, hurt, betrayal. It's tangible in the air around her, almost suffocating. How can she breathe?
Her warning is fair, deserved. She's kind to hold me blameless in the ordeal. Though just by association I feel guilt. The tainted queen. Disillusioned and jaded against love, kindness.. and if I have to guess, certainly anyone from Denocte. It's probably unwise for me to be here, dangerous for me to even stray too close to the border between our courts. The sun sinks down across the horizon, illuminating us with its harsh evening rays. I turn my head slightly, so as to shade my eyes from its glare. The hardness in Florentine wins out over the pain.
The message she gives me is clear. Reichenbach is not wanted. Not forgiven. Not forgotten. And it likely won't be long until we all pay for his mistakes.
I incline my head toward the floral queen. "Of course I shall deliver your message. And I hope that the next time we meet, it shall be under more pleasant circumstances. Stay well, Florentine." I turn and begin my return to Denocte. But just before I leave the boardwalk, I call over my shoulder. "If you see Weir..." Hesitation, because I'm not sure exactly what it is I want. "Please tell her I miss her."
And with that last glance, a sad smile, I leave to return home.
Definitely had muse for this one! She almost made me tear up! Poor Flora
Rosti thoughts | "Rosti speech" | Damaris mindspeak
Rostislav
more than a drunken fool
