Amalia
For my part, I know nothing with any certainty
Amalia's wry smile falters as he talks about the probability of more shitshows, a sigh falling from her lips. Nodding, she rubs her palms across her eyes, as though the action might wipe away the reality of the situation, and the world she looks at after would make some sense. But it doesn't, because when she opens them again she is still sitting in the bakery basement, looking at Emmett across the table, preparing to tell him about her plans to overthrow a queen.The strange turns a year can take, she thinks.
"We're working on it." This may be generous: they are discussing, but working? Only the next meeting will tell. "Right now... most of the plan is to find a leader, and then to take over from Zariah. I think we should have a council, and we should have naturals and outlanders on it, but..." She sighs again, biting her lip in thought. It had seemed so simple when they began, but now? Not it's messy, and complicated, and difficult to navigate, and Amalia is out of her depth.
Glancing over at Emmett, the girl considers a moment before asking the question on her tongue. "Last time I talked to Phoebe she seemed pretty happy with Zariah. Did that change, or...?"
but the sight of the stars makes me dream
