REXANNA
in the haze of hell i have dreamt
that you'd lift this wing and see,
that you are my first wound —
The entire ordeal seems so formal – seems so familiar, and the woman shrinks away internally at what comes next. She’s polite, calm, motivated, and answers the questions the guards have asked. Soon enough, she’s stepping through the hall into the reception room – immediately, her sapphire gaze slips toward the woman standing beside the window. And while Rexanna is and always will be a fan of ornate and beautiful things, she can’t stop to take it all in with so much on her mind. It feels like a trap, though it could be her past experiences talking. A Prince, King, and a Queen.
And her, the sheep to follow and obey, to play the role she was meant to without realizing it.
If only she saw the flames before they had encompassed her home, had destroyed the pale ivory walls and the people within. If she lets herself, she can still hear their screams.
She inhales deeply and quietly, to settle herself and soothe her mind. Here, Rexanna is virtually a nobody. She has far less responsibility than she did then, and perhaps that’s for the better. Less people to fail when it truly mattered. And as she looks to Zariah, she sees the posture; she’s seen it in herself once too, and she can’t help but keep her posture the same. From a former monarch to the current monarch – she understands how appearances are important. She intends to make a good one.
As Zariah speaks her name, and nods her head to her, Rexanna dips into a curtsy. “A pleasure to meet you, too, my Queen.” It’s nearly an automatic response – as though Zariah’s posture and the opulence of the home had reverted her back to her previous self. And as Zariah asks her next question, Rexanna pauses for a moment. No one has told her what she was, but she knew the gods had forsaken her – she knew she had no animal living beneath her skin (because beneath her skin lie fire and flame, fury and destruction; creation and transforming) and she inhales to respond. “Destined, your Grace.” She replies easily, assuming that is what she is now.
If Zariah has any questions, she can prove it to her. But she doubts it will come to that. The Queen then offers her to sit, mentions she’s heard that Rexanna has a request, and she nods yet doesn’t sit. Instead, she adjusts the small little pack on her shoulder and offers the woman a soft smile. “I hope you don’t mind if I stand as well?” She pauses, before clearing her mind to begin. “I’ve come to ask if there is something I can do regarding the sentence given to Bastien De Rosieres?” She pauses to let the name register. “He caused a bit of a scene during the sign ups for the army, but if it’s possible I would like to know if there’s something he and I might be able to do for you for his release?”
She doesn’t say anything else. She doesn’t want to offer everything on the table without hearing what Zariah might wish to receive for his release (provided she would to begin with).
and that long ago,
in some distant past, with open eyes
i kissed you till it bled.
