flora
As the door opens, Flora’s gaze lifts from the rain-streaked glass and settles on Jack. He barely looks at her, but she watches him cross the room with far less restraint, trying not to let her thoughts catch on all the ways he’s still achingly familiar or how much of him now feels entirely unknown. By the time he reaches the table, she’s managed to smooth both reactions into a casual lift of one shoulder. "You were the one who said to leave Ronin home."
She lets the remark about Torchline’s rumour mill pass without comment. They both know how quickly word moves through the islands, and the moment The Ark’s maroon sails appeared in the harbour, there was never any chance Flora wouldn’t hear about it. Instead, she waits until he’s poured his drink before clearing her throat, keeping her hands loosely folded on the table. Jack had been woven through Torchline’s leadership long before she’d inherited its crown, regardless of whether he’d ever bothered with an official title, and his hatred of her doesn’t make him any less relevant to the region. Given the reasons for that hatred, she might be more forced into placating him than those who came before her, though.
"I’m sure you’ve noticed the Fingers aren’t how you left them. The whole undercity is..." Flora trails off, shaking her head as though there’s no single word broad enough to contain the mess of it. "Ronin and his soldiers have kept some of the violence to a minimum, but we both know that’s barely even half the battle."
Lifting her eyes to his, she holds his gaze and tries not to flinch from what she sees there. "If you’re planning on reclaiming it and getting it back under control, that would put the crown in your debt." She swallows, keeping her tone collaborative even as the offer tightens something low in her stomach. "To that end, if you needed any resources to make that happen..."
She lets the remark about Torchline’s rumour mill pass without comment. They both know how quickly word moves through the islands, and the moment The Ark’s maroon sails appeared in the harbour, there was never any chance Flora wouldn’t hear about it. Instead, she waits until he’s poured his drink before clearing her throat, keeping her hands loosely folded on the table. Jack had been woven through Torchline’s leadership long before she’d inherited its crown, regardless of whether he’d ever bothered with an official title, and his hatred of her doesn’t make him any less relevant to the region. Given the reasons for that hatred, she might be more forced into placating him than those who came before her, though.
"I’m sure you’ve noticed the Fingers aren’t how you left them. The whole undercity is..." Flora trails off, shaking her head as though there’s no single word broad enough to contain the mess of it. "Ronin and his soldiers have kept some of the violence to a minimum, but we both know that’s barely even half the battle."
Lifting her eyes to his, she holds his gaze and tries not to flinch from what she sees there. "If you’re planning on reclaiming it and getting it back under control, that would put the crown in your debt." She swallows, keeping her tone collaborative even as the offer tightens something low in her stomach. "To that end, if you needed any resources to make that happen..."
How can a person know everything at 18 but nothing at 22?
Will you still want me when I'm nothing new?
Will you still want me when I'm nothing new?
