Amalia
For my part, I know nothing with any certainty
Kiada seems rather unperturbed by Amalia's surprise, but Deimos practically shrinks away from it, the mirth and mischief left behind, a stoic glacier filling the space. It chills the Shield, reminds her too much of earlier times, before she was graced with his vibrancy, before she pierced his shrouds.She feels cold.
She has stepped in something, cast dirt on a custom she does not understand but which clearly has value to them- and for perhaps the first time Amalia truly understands what the Outlanders felt, coming into a strange new world with culture and history that makes little sense. Biting her lip the baker recoils, pulling anxiously at a string on her pants and feeling them drift further and further away. Maybe Emmett had been right: maybe these relationships cannot work. There will always be a history they share that she is not part of, things she does not understand.
It's Kiads's soft confession that rouses the girl, makes her eyes jump back from the table and land upon the harpy. Something catches in the back of her throat; she swallows, tears behind her eyes, reaching out for Kiads's hand as Deimos does the same. "I'm sorry," the baker murmurs sincerely- to both of them, her leg stretching under the table to brush against Deimos' knee, a silent apology in her eyes.
"I suppose we do something kind of similar. Someone from the other side - a parent, usually - ties a bracelet around the wrist of the person joining their family, and promises the other family they will always accept them and take care of them, because they're all a family now." Who would tie a string for her, if the time ever came? "But we do it for both partners. Not just the bride."
but the sight of the stars makes me dream
