august
—« I was happy, the sun was high. I had enough. »
O
nce, August had been needed, too. Once he’d been in charge of protecting a princess in hiding. He’d taught the girl swordsmanship, games of logic, how to lie with a smile, how to say no and leave the person feeling like you’d said yes.
And no matter all the duties he had, all the hours from first daylight to past midnight he spent, no matter how hard he worked and how much he gave - it was harder, far harder, to wake up one day and realize nobody needed him at all.
He had not taken it well.
But the palomino was better now - healed, even. Scars were tender things, but sometimes they didn’t even itch. He’d tell her that, if they were friends and not strangers. He’d tell her and still know it was something she’d have to learn for herself, because that kind of wisdom was never transferrable.
Her smile is a bright thing, the heart-shaped star on her forehead incredibly charming. He thinks that here is someone it must be incredibly easy to like - he used to know what that felt like, too. “I spent most of my life in a gambling parlor and let me tell you, your guesses are better than most.” You should try your luck there sometime, he almost adds, but smiles blithely back instead; the Scarab has not been his home for a while now. “I’m August, and I am. Can’t say I know much about flowers, but I like to think I can recognize beauty when I see it.”
