[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/jHL17eH.png[/img][/center][hr][sub][color=lightpink]Location:[/color] Outside the Inn[/sub][hr][hr]
Pretty words, pretty words, this strange man on the ground had sweet nothings to spare. His voice was smooth and lilting, his eyes sparkling as he looked up at her. 

[color=lightpink][i]It’s not real,[/i][/color] she reminded herself. Even still, her heart rate seemed to jump. The skin of her cheeks warmed despite her placid expression. 

He was pointedly ignoring the blightborn woman, eyes growing a little sharper, smile a little tenser. Something faltered in Amaya. He seemed disgusted by her very presence rather than heartened at the show of acceptance. Had… had she guessed wrong? Reading people had been her [i]one skill[/i] in the palace as far as actual statecraft had gone — or at least, the one skill she’d been able to hone at all. Locked away as she’d been, Amaya had been denied any opportunity to practice the theory she learned in her lessons. She [i]knew[/i] she was untested. But she’d thought when it came to individuals, at least…

And then that saccharine smile was aimed at her again, with his smooth voice and flowing words ([i][color=lightpink]Not for me, it’s not for me, I don’t matter, he just wants something[/color][/i]) and a hand lifted towards her, open palmed. 

Another body joined the crowd of people surrounding her. Guards, and good samaritans, and [i]strangers[/i] with unfamiliar faces seemed to press in around her as frost gathered at her fingertips. The lack of walls around her suddenly felt dangerous, like she might drown in all the empty, boundless space. She was small and voiceless in a sea of people who expected her to [i]be a princess[/i], when she’d never been taught the role beyond a description she could read in a tome. Breath billowed out of her in a white fog. Fighting to keep her expression calm, Amaya looked up to find Elara, desperate for an anchor. 

And then a familiar scent wafted over her: cologne. One that she’d learned to recognize over the past two months without realizing it, apparently. 

It was the only warning she had before there was a slight pressure at the dip of her back. When she turned her head, it was to find green eyes. Flynn stood at her side. He was closer than was proper — but no, that wasn’t correct, was it? They were married. The ring heavy around her finger, counterpart to the one he wore, proved it. Who would tell him, Prince and Husband, that he could not be at his wife’s side? His warmth seeped into her at the proximity. And when he spoke, voice soft, head tilted down so he seemed to again wrap Amaya in his shadow —

[i]I’ll be back for you.[/i]

He was gone before she could even grasp what was happening. The space at her side was suddenly cold, the air sucked out of Amaya’s lungs. It didn’t quite feel like abandonment. 

And then Amaya forced herself back to the situation at hand. She was still surrounded by strangers. The disarming man was still on the ground, hand outstretched. Flynn — his sudden arrival, his departure, [i]his soft voice[/i] — was irrelevant to the current situation. That he’d all but dragged her to this event only to then [i]leave without her[/i] was simply another matter to deal with at a more convenient time. 

[i][color=lightpink]He’ll be back. He said he’d be back.[/color][/i]

Why did it matter what he said? More importantly, [i]when[/i] had Amaya ever trusted in a man’s word without regretting it?

There was yet another body amongst the crowd — the smiling man with pale, piercing eyes. And immediately Amaya slammed her defenses back in place. Her poise was impeccable. Her expression was pleasant, if aloof. She’d been relieved to hear a note of caution in Elara’s voice when she’d addressed the injured man — distrust didn’t come naturally to Elara, a trait Amaya both envied and worried over. She glanced at her handmaiden, hoping to steady herself with the familiar presence. Amaya wanted to [i]leave[/i] this suffocating crowd. But she wouldn’t leave Elara here. 

Then again, her friend would probably be fine if she did. Amaya had always been the one out of place and unsure in a crowd. 

She steeled herself. She would not run. Not after Flynn, not from the smiling man, not from the man on the ground. Instead she forced a soft smile on her face. 

[color=lightpink]“The temple would welcome you, certainly,”[/color] she finally replied. She looked to the other newcomer — an unkempt man in too few layers for the frigid air. [color=lightpink]“Perhaps you could assist him there, if you’d like to help.”[/color]

Amaya looked down at the man on the ground. It was not her place, she knew to assist him to his feet. And she certainly didn’t want to approach him, with his honeyed words and sharp smile. With that heartbroken look he’d given her. She could simply order a guard to assist him. Her father wouldn’t have even entertained this exchange for as long as she had. 

But her mother would’ve helped him to his feet. 

Amaya hesitated a moment. Then she placed her hand in his to try and pull him up. 
[hr]
[sub][color=lightpink]Interactions:[/color] Elara Moonshadow [@Qia], Vellion Hurst [@Dark Light], Aurora Halliwell [@BlackRoseSiren], Flynn Astaros [@The Muse], Gadez Paladice [@Dezuel], Valthyr Naffron [@Fetzen][/sub]