ZARIAH
”Scattered to the winds, but never broken.” she said softly. Even separated by distance or dimensions or time, to be Launceleyn was an identity not so easily lost. They were who they were because of it, not in spite of it. But restructure and renewal might come of it, and she would be glad to welcome it if it helped them regain their deserved status. ”I am glad to see Neron Launceleyn as well.”
She turned to follow him, her heels still echoing against the stone but more muffled against the wind. The warmth of the Citadel was welcomed, and she clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering as she began thaw. A brow raised as she glanced at him, his anti-monarchy undertone a bit surprising. They had been raised to support the monarchy – even if disliked and unworthy – but it seemed this place had allowed his distaste to run free. ”Hence why you are called Warden, and not his Highness.” she observed. In her mind it was still a monarchy – one person making the decisions for all, regardless of their personal wishes or ideologies. But if Neron wanted to think it wasn’t the same because he did not drape himself in jewels and throw fancy tea parties that was his prerogative.
Zariah would follow wherever it was he led, a smirk curving her lips at his words. ”You mean traipsing about in silky nightgowns and fur stoles is not all the rage here? A shame.” she said, jokingly of course.
She turned to follow him, her heels still echoing against the stone but more muffled against the wind. The warmth of the Citadel was welcomed, and she clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering as she began thaw. A brow raised as she glanced at him, his anti-monarchy undertone a bit surprising. They had been raised to support the monarchy – even if disliked and unworthy – but it seemed this place had allowed his distaste to run free. ”Hence why you are called Warden, and not his Highness.” she observed. In her mind it was still a monarchy – one person making the decisions for all, regardless of their personal wishes or ideologies. But if Neron wanted to think it wasn’t the same because he did not drape himself in jewels and throw fancy tea parties that was his prerogative.
Zariah would follow wherever it was he led, a smirk curving her lips at his words. ”You mean traipsing about in silky nightgowns and fur stoles is not all the rage here? A shame.” she said, jokingly of course.
heavy is the crown
but never for a queen
but never for a queen
