Maea
Blood on my shirt, rose in my hand
Every moment spent on the road with her burden was fraught with anxiety. Even with Liam there to keep watch while she slept, Maea didn't get many hours of rest. Without fail one or both of them lingered near the unassuming crate into which their precious cargo had been concealed, because in these times it wasn't just the Family they had to be wary of. Roses had become hot currency, whether enchanted or not; especially if whatever charlatan mage that made the conterfeit ones was good enough to make them look the part. What the leery eyed crew on the skyship or the sticky fingered rogues along the way from Kaiholo to Haulani wouldn't have done if they knew they carried the real deal... Maea shuddered to think of it.
It was with mingled relief and apprehension she pushed open the door to the Hanged Man, crate held securely in her arms. She looked forward to ridding herself of this miracle, and dreaded whatever conversation was to take place with the queen. Liam's presence at her back was a reassuring pillar to lean on; it was a one-man army she brought to this showdown, but an army none the less.
"Flora?" she called, gazing around the dusky room; she couldn't recall ever seeing so few people around.
It was with mingled relief and apprehension she pushed open the door to the Hanged Man, crate held securely in her arms. She looked forward to ridding herself of this miracle, and dreaded whatever conversation was to take place with the queen. Liam's presence at her back was a reassuring pillar to lean on; it was a one-man army she brought to this showdown, but an army none the less.
"Flora?" she called, gazing around the dusky room; she couldn't recall ever seeing so few people around.
You're looking at me like you don't know who I am
