BEXLEY BRIAR
In the dark and purple corners of the citadel, lit only enough to shroud the girls’ outline in gentle silver, Bexley begins to feel whole again.
It is a strange, subtle thing - a warmth in her chest, stirred by the sound of Florentine’s chiming laughter; a smile that creeps over her face and is, for once, unbidden; a swell of something bright and sunny and good that crawls through her veins and lights the blue in her eyes. It is the vivacity she has been so desperately missing, come back to find her like a messenger bird finds its target.
Florentine is gold and starlight, washed in cool white light from the dusty windows overhead. She is beautiful and young as ever, as immortally gorgeous as the day they met, and as much as Bexley might be jealous of it, the gaze that settles upon the Dusk queen is nothing but warmth and gratitude for the friend that has helped her since her first days in Novus. I missed you, she says, and brushes her lips against Florentine’s cheek. No matter how much you say you've changed. But I should go -
Her voice wavers a little, unconvincing. Nothing would be easier than to stay here. Nothing would be more facile, more healing, than to curl inward, away from the world, and shelter herself under Florentine’s wings or the stained-glass mosaic of the Terrastellan capitol.
But there is work to be done. Miles away, the Day Court waits, a third of its weight laid across her shoulders now, still blood-splattered and smoldering.
Thank you, Bexley says again. Come visit.
A grin blossoms over her face, and with a gaze that might be fervent with new energy or just affectionately warm, she blinks Florentine a goodbye and turns back toward Solterra.
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