Safrin
The candles dimmed as a seam of darkness opened along the lighthouse wall, not cast by anything within the room but drawn through reality itself. Safrin stepped from it in a spill of midnight silk and starlight, her pale hair drifting behind her as though underwater.
Her gaze passed first over the offerings; the combs and tapestries earned Melita a flicker of approval, while Ronin’s mirror and lilies drew something softer across the goddess’s features. It faded quickly when she looked between them instead. "How unexpected," Safrin murmured, her eyes lingering on the Honeybee before settling on Ronin. Their last conversation had only just managed to find its footing again, and now he was here beside a woman Safrin knew largely as another of Torchline’s bright, reckless residents.
Melita’s flattery helped. The request did not.
"Ludo?" she repeated, one brow rising as she lightly touched one of the pearled combs. "Perhaps it is hiding somewhere. Perhaps it was mistaken as washing rags and was tossed into a stream. Or perhaps it ate too much candy and fell asleep beneath somebody’s bed." Straightening, Safrin’s gaze narrowed slightly between them, offended less by the question itself than by the implication that Ludo’s whereabouts belonged to her concern. "Why," she asked softly, "should I care that it is missing?"
Her gaze passed first over the offerings; the combs and tapestries earned Melita a flicker of approval, while Ronin’s mirror and lilies drew something softer across the goddess’s features. It faded quickly when she looked between them instead. "How unexpected," Safrin murmured, her eyes lingering on the Honeybee before settling on Ronin. Their last conversation had only just managed to find its footing again, and now he was here beside a woman Safrin knew largely as another of Torchline’s bright, reckless residents.
Melita’s flattery helped. The request did not.
"Ludo?" she repeated, one brow rising as she lightly touched one of the pearled combs. "Perhaps it is hiding somewhere. Perhaps it was mistaken as washing rags and was tossed into a stream. Or perhaps it ate too much candy and fell asleep beneath somebody’s bed." Straightening, Safrin’s gaze narrowed slightly between them, offended less by the question itself than by the implication that Ludo’s whereabouts belonged to her concern. "Why," she asked softly, "should I care that it is missing?"
