everything is the same, except for all the ways it isn't

even when i was a child
i’ve always known there was something to be frightened of

"Thank you," Amalia less says than exhales, relief apparent as her expression softens, the tired lines growing slack. Leaning back in her chair, the Shield runs a hand over her braid, pulling out a small white flower and rolling it gently between her fingers, releasing a sweet, subtle scent. When she looks back at him her eyes are warm with gratitude, still tired and withdrawn in her slender face. "I'm sorry... to put this on you, Chuy. But I appreciate that you can be there for him. When I can't."

Abruptly she rises to her feet, exhaling again as she stands. "We... I need to head to the Palace. Would you walk with me?" the Shield invites, extending a shy smile. "We can talk about Kiada more, if you like. Or... or something else. It would be nice to have company, though."

{fin}