meet me where the falling stars live
I will wait for you day and night
She doesn't feel like she tried to lecture him on anything, but it is an accusation leveled against her frequently, and Amalia bristles a little bit, retreating further within himself. But as he explains the event with Remi, the baker cannot help as her bewilderment grows, furrowing her eyebrows as the story unwraps. Honestly, Amalia is the last person to advise on or understand relationships- she has only had the one. But what Loren is describing doesn't sound particularly healthy.Nor does it sound like moving on, but what does Amalia know.
Here's the thing about trying her best: Amalia cannot not believe in it, because at the end of the day trying is all she has. She thinks of Safrin, thinks of Ronin, thinks of failures in the Spire and watching the Prince recoil from her gaze. "You're right," the baker replies softly, anger in the tightness of her voice. "But I think I succeed sometimes. And you do, too." Helping with the Prince. Coming back from a nervous breakdown. Working so hard to prepare them for LongNight, to make amends for his cousin's sins- it has to count for something, she thinks, even if it doesn't feel that way now.
But it isn't for her to placate him, to make him feel better. Maybe if they were friends, but Loren has made it abundantly clear that they are not. Indeed, he accuses her outright of hatred, which makes rise up to her feet and clutch her fists in indignant frustration, mouth drawn in a hard, straight line. "I never hated you," Amalia snaps through clenched teeth. "Are you really so full of yourself that you think I'd spend my time and energy hating you?" It is a remix of what Ronin had said to her, except her cruelty has no excuse. She is not blighted, is not sick.
She is simply furious, and tired, and hurt.
Amalia
