Maea
My heroes had the heart to lose their lives out on the limb
It had been a long time in the making, this ball. From the first fleeting notion of it, half in jest, to the chime of the bell, Maea had been unsure whether it was even possible to pull off. Now, standing by the edge of the dancefloor, unusual emotions traded places within her chest. Was that pride, by chance? Satisfaction, no, even enjoyment? It was almost like she had accomplished something real, something tangible that wasn't entirely in her own head.
She was clothed in black for the evening, as usual. Those who knew her well might be surprised to notice that it was not in the usual rags, however. No, the dress was as new as it was beautiful, and bold; hugging her figure to the waist, with tight sleeves and a flaring skirt of darkest velvet, the neckline was a bold plunge that teased a glimpse of ivory skin. She had braided her hair into a crown atop her head, and silver bells dangled from the wide sweep of her horns. They rang subtly as she glided across the floor, aiming for the skulking figure of her liege.
"Praise me, flatter me, please," she murmured to him, laughter making her eyes bright. "We actually did it!"
She was clothed in black for the evening, as usual. Those who knew her well might be surprised to notice that it was not in the usual rags, however. No, the dress was as new as it was beautiful, and bold; hugging her figure to the waist, with tight sleeves and a flaring skirt of darkest velvet, the neckline was a bold plunge that teased a glimpse of ivory skin. She had braided her hair into a crown atop her head, and silver bells dangled from the wide sweep of her horns. They rang subtly as she glided across the floor, aiming for the skulking figure of her liege.
"Praise me, flatter me, please," she murmured to him, laughter making her eyes bright. "We actually did it!"
And I remember thinking — I want to be like them
