karma's a relaxing thought, aren't you envious that for you it's not?
Flora shakes her head slowly, curls slipping forward as the crooked curve of her smile fades into something wryer. "I very nearly did," she admits, the words carrying no shame, only the easy candour of someone who’s lived through it already. "Lost my first election to rule Torchline, actually. And gods, it stung. Bad." She laughs once, low in her throat, but it’s more rueful than bright. Spite was a hell of a motivator, and it had just made Flora work all the harder to get the things that she wanted.
Her gaze drifts to the fountain, weighing whether to fill her glass again before deciding to hold off. Instead, she shifts, turning until her back presses lightly against the cool stone, one arm folding across her stomach. "Mostly, I do like it," she says, aqua eyes flicking sidelong at Damien. Then her brows bounce, a grin tugging at her mouth. "I mean, it’s nice being able to threaten to throw woodworkers from Halo into jail if they don’t go for strolls down the beach with me."
The joke ebbs, though, her smile thinning by degrees until it sighs out of her altogether. "This past year was hard," she admits. "Trying to keep Torchline safe from the Family…I was murdered. Then about a month ago, I was carved up back to the brink of death." Her hand curls loosely around the cup at her side, the gleam of rings dulled in the shadow of the fountain. "Had to move out of my home to keep everyone I cared about. I put the city first, and because of it, my boyfriend broke up with me." The word tastes bitter enough to wrinkle her nose, Jack having been so much more than just her boyfriend.
She twists to dip her cup beneath the spout, the stream of rum catching sunlight as it pours clean and bright into the glass. "I felt super bitter about it for a while," she says, voice quieter now, almost thoughtful. "Which good leaders probably aren’t supposed to." The queen shrugs as if to dislodge the weight of it, raises the glass to her lips, and takes a slow sip. The burn slides down and she lets it chase the heat of his question out of her chest, a crooked smile curling back into place though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
Her gaze drifts to the fountain, weighing whether to fill her glass again before deciding to hold off. Instead, she shifts, turning until her back presses lightly against the cool stone, one arm folding across her stomach. "Mostly, I do like it," she says, aqua eyes flicking sidelong at Damien. Then her brows bounce, a grin tugging at her mouth. "I mean, it’s nice being able to threaten to throw woodworkers from Halo into jail if they don’t go for strolls down the beach with me."
The joke ebbs, though, her smile thinning by degrees until it sighs out of her altogether. "This past year was hard," she admits. "Trying to keep Torchline safe from the Family…I was murdered. Then about a month ago, I was carved up back to the brink of death." Her hand curls loosely around the cup at her side, the gleam of rings dulled in the shadow of the fountain. "Had to move out of my home to keep everyone I cared about. I put the city first, and because of it, my boyfriend broke up with me." The word tastes bitter enough to wrinkle her nose, Jack having been so much more than just her boyfriend.
She twists to dip her cup beneath the spout, the stream of rum catching sunlight as it pours clean and bright into the glass. "I felt super bitter about it for a while," she says, voice quieter now, almost thoughtful. "Which good leaders probably aren’t supposed to." The queen shrugs as if to dislodge the weight of it, raises the glass to her lips, and takes a slow sip. The burn slides down and she lets it chase the heat of his question out of her chest, a crooked smile curling back into place though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
