[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/jHL17eH.png[/img][/center][hr][sub][color=lightpink]Location: Outside the Inn[/color][/sub][hr][hr]
There was a sharp spike of anger in Amaya’s chest at how he spoke to Elara – but at least she’d backed away from him slightly, even if the space between their bodies still seemed too narrow for comfort. 

Then he turned all the charm he seemed to possess onto Amaya. Few had dared to ever be so [i]forward[/i] with her. She froze, eyes trapped by his, as he spun pretty, empty words. Amaya couldn’t look away. Her cheeks began to heat.

A face flashed through her mind. The last — the [I]only[/i] — person who’d tried to wrap Amaya in sweet nothings. A young man, little more than a boy really, though he’d been older than her at the time. Dark hair, and amber eyes. He’d been so startlingly fair, his skin like milk against her own. 

Then a wall of ice slammed down around the memory. 

Their eye contact was broken when the healer finally appeared. [i]A distraction[/i].  Amaya’s eyelashes fluttered, her breathing quick and shallow. The seams of her heart, shattered edges that she’d worked so hard to fit together again, ached with an old, fragile pain. [i]Shameful[/i].

She swallowed. Her eyes unfocused as she retreated inwards, trying to pull herself back together. She was still in [i]public[/i], she couldn’t keep being so [i]sloppy[/i]. Amaya had been good at this once — she’d mastered her role, learned how to use it to her advantage when everyone else seemed set on keeping her locked away. Amaya had been barred from all matters of state — so she’d learned to study [i]people[/i], instead. 

She forced that bitter pain, the shame, the naive [i]hope[/i], away. Her eyes refocused. 

The man was all but scrambling away from the healer. His pretty words, thick with allure, were a far cry from how he acted now. Because they’d been false. A means to some end. Every time. It was never about her, because she [i]never mattered[/i], not in the face of whatever it was they actually wanted. His face flashed in her mind. How broken he’d seemed in the moment he realized who she was — or wasn’t. Amaya forced herself to put another unnamable hurt away. 

The way he was vacillating so wildly – hope, to anguish, to anger, to charm, to fear… this was a man flailing. Desperate. [i]For what[/i]? Was it merely the impending dread of the end of the world, pulling him taut? Amaya didn’t think she could blame him, if so. But… why refuse healing? Pride? No, he acted as though this new woman, white haired like Elara and just as slight, was more threatening than the risk of infection. And it [i]did[/i] look infected, what little she’d seen of it. 

Amaya felt her shoulders stiffen as she watched him. The way the skin around his eyes tightened, even as he kept his charming smile. Tension was building like a storm on the horizon. When it finally broke, perhaps he’d just hobble off in a fit of annoyance. Or perhaps he’d snap in other ways. The building swell of her magic answered her nerves, minuscule crystals forming along her fingertips. 

Elara’s gentle voice carried through the air, drawing everyone’s attention. And suddenly the need to act, to diffuse this man, was immediate. 

[color=lightpink]“Or perhaps,”[/color] she said, answering his soft smile with one of her own, [color=lightpink]“if you will not allow healing, you’ll accept some other comfort.”[/color] [i]What did he want?[/i] He didn’t want healing. He’d snapped at Elara just for helping him to his seat. He didn’t want anything from [i]Amaya[/i] based on that heartbroken look he’d given her… but then why come up to her at all?

[i]A mistake[/i], she reminded herself bitterly. 

[color=lightpink]“And I won’t hear another word about my supposed ‘radiance’. If it inspires such foolishness as ‘crawling through blight’ then perhaps your road to recovery is best paved without my involvement.”[/color] Her tone was light, a faux sternness to it. It was a familiar voice, one she’d used countless times with the members of her father’s cabinet when they thought they were simply teasing her. Slowly, atrophied muscles were reawakening. 

Amaya thought back to that flicker of hope the man had, the moment before his face had crumpled… she hadn’t been whatever he’d expected. But Amaya was… [i]Amaya[/i]. Well, [i]Amaya[/i] wasn’t who mattered. But she was the only Princess in Dawnhaven as far as she knew, and that meant she tended to be recognized by the citizenry here, even if she hardly ventured out amongst the people. Even if most of [i]Lunaris[/i] hardly knew anything about her. But this man… no, he’d had no idea who she was until he’d gotten close. As far as she could tell, he [i]still[/i] didn’t realize who she was. He was new to the settlement. 

[color=lightpink]“It’s a day of celebration — if you insist on attending, you should at least keep yourself from aggravating your injury any more.”[/color] 

That ‘wild dog bite’ as he’d called it (even Elara hadn’t managed to keep the skepticism from her voice) hadn’t looked fresh. Had he arrived just before the storm, and been locked away with the festering wound? For a [i]week?[/i] No, it would’ve been crippling by now. 

He’d just arrived in Dawnhaven. He was desperate. He had an injury that he shouldn’t have been able to walk on. [i]He didn’t want anyone examining his body[/i].

Amaya blinked. She looked at him with new eyes. He looked like an ordinary human, if a bit strung out. But a theory clicked into place. She cast her gaze about the crowd. 

[color=lightpink]“Excuse me,”[/color] she said, barely raising her voice. But still, the call carried, and the woman Amaya was looking at turned to face them. It was one of the employees of the inn, holding three empty tankards in one hand and on her way back towards the door. Her eyes glowed lime green, three small horns poking out from a short crop of hair. 

The blightborn woman blinked as she realized who was calling for her. Then her eyes widened and she all but ran over to the little group. Amaya hid her hand in the folds of her skirt, fingers curling into a tight fist. The ice crystals melted away under the pressure of her own slight body heat. 

Amaya gave the gentlest smile she could muster. Uncurling her fingers she reached out to lightly grip the woman’s free hand. It was a warm gesture to anyone who didn’t know Amaya, and the careful distance she kept from most people. Amaya was proud at least that she’d kept herself from flinching, her smile still steady on her face. She had never even [i]touched[/i] a blightborn before. But everything was always easier when it was part of a calculation — when she could pretend it was someone else, and Amaya had simply disappeared. 

[color=lightpink]“I apologize for the interruption, but would it be possible to get… a cushion perhaps, or blanket?”[/color] She turned her face to look back at the man, her hand still on the woman’s. [color=lightpink]“Would that be amenable to you? We could leave you be with some cushioning for your leg, at least.”[/color] It didn’t matter [i]what[/i] he said, or wanted, as long as he saw Amaya with this woman — perhaps [i]that[/i] would unwind some of his volatility. Perhaps he wouldn’t act so desperately if he didn’t think he was going to be hunted in the streets. 
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[color=lightpink][sub]Interaction: Elara Moonshadow [@Qia], Vellion Hurst [@Dark Light], Aurora Halliwell [@BlackRoseSiren][/sub][/color]