ZARIAH
Zariah laughed a little, shaking her head at him. "If you recall our earlier conversation, I have memories of events you do not." she said softly, the click of her heel echoing in the hall. She remembered his tact in handling her, his persistence in pursuing her (or really anything he actually wanted, few and far between that may have been), the way his icy calm balanced her fiery nature. There was much she had missed about him, and simply having him near, whether he remembered any of what they had or not, was soothing to her soul.
She chuckled low at his look, a smirk curling her lips. "In some places, I've found, it is near blasphemous to instate it at all." she said. The Hollowed Grounds were a lawless nightmare. Chaotic, disorderly, uncouth, ungrateful - rats and swine and cockroaches had more order to their societies than those who inhabited the grounds.
His quick pace was easily matched. As always, despite the perilous height of her heels she walked with grace and precision, entirely unhindered by what most would find unsuitable footwear for any sort of travel. "Halo, the one place where women's fashion trends factor in reasonable parameters." she said with a light laugh. Comfort was usually secondary to style for women in most places, but this place was proving itself quite unique and rational; something that made her feel quite at home. But they wouldn't be taking her heels any time soon. Oh no. That was a non-starter.
Zariah's head tilted slightly, admiring the door. For a place seemingly barren, beauty was still appreciated in its own way. Perhaps it was not her personal aesthetic, but she could see herself becoming quickly accustomed to the bright white and glassy finish that brought elegance to the cold landscape. "It would not surprise me if they were a bit hesitant to invoke the ire of one who managed to appear suddenly and survive as long as I did in the Fangs. It is a bit ominous." she said lightly, following him into the room. Best keep people who magically appeared in deadly environments and lived to tell the tale happy she supposed. Or they were terrified of Neron. Perhaps both. She glanced around the room, setting aside the fur on the bed as she looked around, one thin strap of her silky dress sliding off her shoulder. It was pleasantly warm already with the fire roaring as it was. Zariah turned back to him, a small smile on her lips. "Indeed it does. Though it would be far more suitable if the gentleman would acquiesce to stay..." she said leadingly, the smile slowly morphing into a smirk.
She chuckled low at his look, a smirk curling her lips. "In some places, I've found, it is near blasphemous to instate it at all." she said. The Hollowed Grounds were a lawless nightmare. Chaotic, disorderly, uncouth, ungrateful - rats and swine and cockroaches had more order to their societies than those who inhabited the grounds.
His quick pace was easily matched. As always, despite the perilous height of her heels she walked with grace and precision, entirely unhindered by what most would find unsuitable footwear for any sort of travel. "Halo, the one place where women's fashion trends factor in reasonable parameters." she said with a light laugh. Comfort was usually secondary to style for women in most places, but this place was proving itself quite unique and rational; something that made her feel quite at home. But they wouldn't be taking her heels any time soon. Oh no. That was a non-starter.
Zariah's head tilted slightly, admiring the door. For a place seemingly barren, beauty was still appreciated in its own way. Perhaps it was not her personal aesthetic, but she could see herself becoming quickly accustomed to the bright white and glassy finish that brought elegance to the cold landscape. "It would not surprise me if they were a bit hesitant to invoke the ire of one who managed to appear suddenly and survive as long as I did in the Fangs. It is a bit ominous." she said lightly, following him into the room. Best keep people who magically appeared in deadly environments and lived to tell the tale happy she supposed. Or they were terrified of Neron. Perhaps both. She glanced around the room, setting aside the fur on the bed as she looked around, one thin strap of her silky dress sliding off her shoulder. It was pleasantly warm already with the fire roaring as it was. Zariah turned back to him, a small smile on her lips. "Indeed it does. Though it would be far more suitable if the gentleman would acquiesce to stay..." she said leadingly, the smile slowly morphing into a smirk.
heavy is the crown
but never for a queen
but never for a queen
