color me and blow me away

i sat with my anger long enough she told me her real name was grief

"We aren't trapped in our roles," Amalia answers softly- though, of course, that isn't true. Amalia owes herself to Vi now, but she doesn't see it that way. And people like Finn, like Deimos, like Adam and Kiada were - they could choose to step away. Dark eyes on the spines of old books, she shrugs. "The Ascended need the Voice to live. At least we have freedom in how much we choose to worship."

She leans back thoughtfully as he explains his interests, biting on her lip. "I don't know about the first Ascended... Safrin might. Or there might be something in her library, but...." that is in the Grounds. Amalia hardly thinks that Wessex would allow her back to her home, whatever promises the Wraith might have once made. "But I... I've met the Prince. And I know about the Spire Demon. Frey showed me- showed me what it was like before." She blushes, stumbling over her words, and looks anywhere but at Finn. "If... if that would help."

Amalia