REXANNA
I have late night conversations
with the moon.
She agreed, finding that rules could make something like this too far limiting. And she continued to work while she poised the question, glancing to him occasionally and seeing the nostalgia on his face. It sounded lovely, surrounded by those that loved you and were able to imprint a kind of legacy within. Rexanna had never known her true parents, but the servants that had adopted her had done well – had kept a secret from the world and everyone else for 18 years. Their loyalty knew no bounds, even if it was for a maniac king. “That sounds wonderful.” She eventually responded to him, imagining a small Bastien with his mother, painting flowers at the dining table. It brought a smile to her face and she listened diligently while he continued about what inspired him. And as he spoke of beginning his painting career and the man he had painted hating the painting, she stopped adding in the thick swaths of deep green growing darker the further from the light it got, to look at him and chuckle quietly with him.
“That’s a shame.” She replied, even if she hated something, Rexanna often wouldn’t tell anyone. She lived a life of many displeasures, and in all of her experience it had resulted in worse things to come. Rex was better off keeping her mouth shut tight. But as a question was poised to her with debate, her smile faltered slightly as she thought about what it was. And when she finally decided what had caused it, for her to be the way she was, she looked back to her canvas and continued, now being able to add the deep almost indigo hues to the trunk of the tree that blocked out some of the light.
“I think it’s a mix of blood and experience?” She paused in her thought, taking time to switch brushes and laugh at the idea of it. “I got to experience the poverty of servants and the opulence of royalty. But I never met my parents. My mother was the Queen of Halyven… She was beheaded soon after I was born. My father, the top general of our soldiers, was beheaded then too.” She informed him, but she wasn’t upset by it. She didn’t know them at all – but she often wondered what parts of her came from which one of them, and what was entirely her own. “I think I get my stubbornness from my father, but everyone says my looks came from my mother.” She smiled at the thought, yet had no way of knowing.
“I grew up with my adoptive mother and father, though. Highly revered servants. “Papa”, I called him. He took care of arranging things between nobles. A right hand man sort of thing. He kept us away from it. My adoptive mother was the head of the kitchen. And while I grew up I was sent to do a variety of jobs. Sometimes I’d bring in food from the kitchen to the banquets, sometimes I’d clean the nobles bedrooms. I am quick on my feet and I think they picked jobs that were better suited to making you invisible.” She contemplated, using a smaller brush to bring the branches further down to frame her work. “But when I got older and betrothed, I had to learn a lot in the ways of diplomacy. My country had been at war with Asciend for centuries. I was trained to be the advocate, to live among wolves in a place where everyone wanted my country wiped off the map.” She rolled her shoulders in a small shrug as she looked back to Bastien with a small smile.
“Perhaps that, I get from my true father. I kept the flames away the best I could for a time before everything happened. I suppose training and my nature made it possible?” It was a bit of a rhetorical question, but one that she did think about often. She was a target, and up until Caido she always had been one. She just never realized it before ascending to royalty. And oh, how complicated the messes got with that. She turned to look back at her painting as she grabbed a different brush and dipped it into some greens and golds, beginning to put leaves on the branches to hide some of the clouds she had painted. “I have a hard time keeping my mouth shut too, sometimes. Especially when threatened.” She said, casting a playful wink in Bastien’s direction.{/b}
“That’s a shame.” She replied, even if she hated something, Rexanna often wouldn’t tell anyone. She lived a life of many displeasures, and in all of her experience it had resulted in worse things to come. Rex was better off keeping her mouth shut tight. But as a question was poised to her with debate, her smile faltered slightly as she thought about what it was. And when she finally decided what had caused it, for her to be the way she was, she looked back to her canvas and continued, now being able to add the deep almost indigo hues to the trunk of the tree that blocked out some of the light.
“I think it’s a mix of blood and experience?” She paused in her thought, taking time to switch brushes and laugh at the idea of it. “I got to experience the poverty of servants and the opulence of royalty. But I never met my parents. My mother was the Queen of Halyven… She was beheaded soon after I was born. My father, the top general of our soldiers, was beheaded then too.” She informed him, but she wasn’t upset by it. She didn’t know them at all – but she often wondered what parts of her came from which one of them, and what was entirely her own. “I think I get my stubbornness from my father, but everyone says my looks came from my mother.” She smiled at the thought, yet had no way of knowing.
“I grew up with my adoptive mother and father, though. Highly revered servants. “Papa”, I called him. He took care of arranging things between nobles. A right hand man sort of thing. He kept us away from it. My adoptive mother was the head of the kitchen. And while I grew up I was sent to do a variety of jobs. Sometimes I’d bring in food from the kitchen to the banquets, sometimes I’d clean the nobles bedrooms. I am quick on my feet and I think they picked jobs that were better suited to making you invisible.” She contemplated, using a smaller brush to bring the branches further down to frame her work. “But when I got older and betrothed, I had to learn a lot in the ways of diplomacy. My country had been at war with Asciend for centuries. I was trained to be the advocate, to live among wolves in a place where everyone wanted my country wiped off the map.” She rolled her shoulders in a small shrug as she looked back to Bastien with a small smile.
“Perhaps that, I get from my true father. I kept the flames away the best I could for a time before everything happened. I suppose training and my nature made it possible?” It was a bit of a rhetorical question, but one that she did think about often. She was a target, and up until Caido she always had been one. She just never realized it before ascending to royalty. And oh, how complicated the messes got with that. She turned to look back at her painting as she grabbed a different brush and dipped it into some greens and golds, beginning to put leaves on the branches to hide some of the clouds she had painted. “I have a hard time keeping my mouth shut too, sometimes. Especially when threatened.” She said, casting a playful wink in Bastien’s direction.{/b}
he tells me about the sun,
and i tell him about you.
BASTIEN
