[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/jHL17eH.png[/img][/center][hr][sub][color=lightpink]Location: Outside the Inn[/color][/sub][hr][hr]
Head held high, poised, as graceful as ever, Amaya walked through the bustling town square as smoothly as if it were the echoing halls of the palace. She could practically hear the click of her heels against the marble tile, her expression one of practiced neutrality -- aloof, pleasant, and above all [i]not[/i] reflective of the nerves that buzzed violently under her skin. She didn't dare look to any of the people mingling with each other. She feared another crack appearing in her mask, fracturing her careful performance in front of so many. 

She focused straight ahead of her, on the sight of her handmaiden sitting amongst a dispersing crowd. She hadn’t even spoken with Elara since they’d first received the news that her mother had died, and it’d just been a recurring cycle of falling apart and holding herself together since then. She just… needed [i]someone[/i] she knew. Who knew her. Unfortunately, that list had now condensed to a single person. But if Amaya could make it to her, steady herself, perhaps [i]then[/i] she could manage to find some semblance of proper self control again. 

But before she’d crossed even half the distance to Elara, a cloaked figure stepped into her path. Ghostly blue eyes peered at her from beneath the hood, cradled by a smile that cut a sickle’s arc across a man’s face. She stilled, alarms going off in her mind.

But it wasn’t until she heard his voice that she finally placed him. [i]The crowing man[/i]. He’d stepped into her path once before, in the moments following the announcement of her mother’s death. But she’d had Flynn there the last time, to speak for her. She’d had his hand tight around hers, anchoring her. She was alone this time. Amaya managed to keep herself from taking a step backwards – as if she’d find warmth and a broad chest at her back, hands pressing phantom weight on her shoulders. His face flashed in her mind – that spark of anger she’d glimpsed. 

She was [i]alone[/i], she reminded herself. She’d never needed protection from men with scouring eyes and hidden smiles before. She certainly didn’t need it [i]now[/i].

She forced herself to still as the man spoke – of her eyes, her heart, her marriage. Of [i]love[/i]. The idea seemed ludicrous to Amaya. The whole continent knew that they hadn’t married for [i]love[/i], and the goddesses didn’t seem to care either, if the damned prophecy was to be believed. But still, she felt… small, somehow. Chastised, almost. She lifted her chin slightly, as if to make herself taller even though she still needed to look up at him.

Amaya was almost thankful that the cloaked man was so off-putting. Defenses were easier to build up when there was such a clear threat.

[color=lightpink]“And knowledge cannot be assumed,”[/color] she replied lightly to his [i]presumptuous[/i] words. But behind her polite smile and her relaxed face, her eyes were sharp. [color=lightpink]“Especially when one is not entitled to it.”[/color] Amaya flicked her gaze to their surroundings, the gesture unbothered and leisurely. Her unease grew with every moment she didn’t have her eyes on him, like he might pounce while she was distracted. But Amaya forced herself to spend another heartbeat watching the torches flicker and dance. She finally let herself look at the man as he backed away. 

[color=lightpink]“Thank you for coming today,”[/color] she said, stepping into the role of royal host -- perhaps this wasn't the palace and she hadn't had any say in putting it on, but Amaya knew what image was expected of her. [color=lightpink]“I hope you enjoy the festivities.”[/color] Then she forced herself to continue her path forward, now that he was finally out of her way.

She needed to wash the feel of his gaze off her skin.

But it was only a scant few steps until she was at last at Elara’s side. There were two other women there – Aurelian, by the look of it. Identical but for the clear signs of blight on the softer one’s body. She seemed… distressed. Well, at least Amaya was doing a better job at hiding her emotions. She hoped.

Perching herself delicately on the stool next to Elara (Was the stool… clean? Should she have waited for someone to announce her to this little group? [i]Who?[/i] Elara? Was there protocol? Common folk didn’t have that right? Was it a faux pas to sit as they still stood? But there were plenty of other groups in mixed states of repose, so it seemed acceptable, right? Could they tell she [i]didn’t know how to do this?[/i] Oh, to the depths with it all, she was a [i]Princess[/i], she would do as she pleased.) Amaya caught her handmaiden’s eye. Only the white cloud of frost, escaping her lips with every breath, gave away her nerves. 

Music reverberated out of the inn, filling even the outdoors with its brightness. 

She wondered if Flynn was in there – if he was dancing. It was likely, she supposed, as she didn’t see him outside anymore. Not that she was looking for him.

[color=lightpink]“Well,”[/color] Amaya said casually. She knew how to be casual. This was all very casual. Like her. [color=lightpink]“Practically all of Dawnhaven seems to be here.”[/color] She was pleased that she managed to [i]not[/i] say that like it was a very creative curse. [color=lightpink]“I’m pleased to see that everyone appears to have weathered the storm well.”[/color] As heavy as the mask was becoming, she was unwilling to let it drop in front of the two Aurelian women. Looking at the two of them, she said, [color=lightpink]“I don’t believe we’ve met.”[/color]

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[color=lightpink][sub]Interaction: Gadez Paladice [@Dezuel], Elara Moonshadow [@Qia], Ranni and Dyna Soleil [@Queen Arya]
Mention:  Flynn Astaros [@The Muse][/sub][/color]