AMALIA
you're staring at the sky
watching stars collide
Too young, too lonely, too anxious, too sad, Amalia stands behind her counter and works as others enjoy the fair. Though she has some amount of help - two older women, her grandmother's friends, in fairness likely better equipped to handle marketing than the girl - she cannot seem to free herself from the wooden shield, the tabletop a staunch defense against the flighty fun of the festival. It is less true moroseness than insecurity: her stall is beautiful, but not as beautiful; her bread is good, but not as good. Devas Bakery has not been represented ant Fiat Lux for years, and the knowledge of her inadequacies as a Chandrakant gnaw at the girl from the inside out.watching stars collide
But at least these insecurities distract her from other, greater problems.
So it is that Maea finds her: bent below the counter top to pull fresh loaves from her small traveling oven, her long gold hair escaping its plait as she rises, a comet of flour streaked across her cheek. Surprise crosses her expressive face at the sight of them, but Amalia quickly regains her composure and dons her customer service mask.
"Happy Fiat Lux, Maea... Ludo." Amalia had spotted the pair earlier, among the crowd: how could she not, with the mortal acting as such a beacon, clad in white with a god upon her back? Bowing slightly to the deity, she lets a small, genuine smile light her hollow face. "Of course- always, for you." Turning away, Amalia busies herself with searching for a tray of sticky buns, her heart beating quickly in her breast. Her last encounter with Ludo had been positive, beautiful, and the memory of it rises quickly to her mind, but it is tainted now by a sliver of shame. What would her grandmother say to see her here, sulking and stewing, a rain cloud on this sunniest of days?
And then there is Maea- Maea who was never quite her friend, but has been a part of her life since childhood, woven into the threads of her story with seamless, constant ease. And now, with this council nonsense and the Spire breached, Amalia cannot help but think of the older girl's part in it all. Seeing Maea enter the obelisk alongside Roana and the other Outlanders, betray and defy the people she grew up with, Rory, and Evie, and the gods...
A silent sigh escapes her lungs. "I'm trying," she whispers to her ghosts, before turning back to face the odd pair, the brittle smile back on her face. "Sticky rolls with cinnamon syrup." Wrapping two roles in paper, she offers them to Maea before turning another, genuine smile upon the porcelain-masked god. "And for you, Ludo?"
