A shame indeed, that the queen was not privy to the inner-most thoughts of the golden stallion. She would not have understood a word of his twisted plots, his devious plans, his shadowy charades, but she would have loved him for them anyways. She would have stood in awe of his cunning, enamored by the thought he had put into each guileful scheme that he had created. Of course, she would have quickly ruined he magic by wondering who exactly put so much thought into their life. After all, who planned each moment of their day, week, month, year? Not Kahlua. She did not even plan the next minute of her life, clearly, but she had not found a need to as of yet. Being spontaneous, vivacious, had not failed her yet. Opportunities had fallen into her lap at every turn.

If only she could read the golden's face, look into his eyes and know his soul. Her vapid head would have been swirling with new ideas she could never have even dreamed of. So you know her twisted past and mind, he murmured and he queen only cocked her head. Did she really? Perhaps she thought she did, but she knew so little. What twisted games did the Gilded Blade play, what long-reaching plots had she set into motion? The Sunshower could not even begin to fathom what evil was afoot in the north.

She shifted with him, taking a moment to look out into the trees, having not forgotten that they were both refugees from some imagined follower. Still, the glance was only cursory, as she continued to feel safe under the watchful eye of her conniving comrade. As she headed towards the opening to the rotunda, the wind blew the curtains about her, the soft fabric brushing against her side, and she felt the loving embrace of the structure and all the history that it had secreted away inside of its walls. As the golden sighed, the queen kindly reached out her muzzle to touch him on the shoulder, if he would allow it. She wanted him to know that she was here for him, even as he waded through what must have been very heavy memories. She understood, it had been terrible for everyone.

And as his wounded tale began to spill forth, a fairytale story of a poor boy who could only believe what he had been told was the truth, and her heart broke for his terrible fate. The gods were not kind, to force such a friendly stallion into such a cruel world. She closed her eyes as she remembered her own foray into hatred, racism, anger and someone for the horns they bore on her head. She would share that story as well, in time. For now, she simply listened, nodding empathetically, playing her part as well as he played his. And when his story came to a crescendo, valiant voice declaring that species were equal and only tyrants would dare say otherwise, the queen smiled and stepped to the side to brush her whole body against him, if he would have it. Her warmth for his strength- it was so little and yet it was all she could offer to him right now.

“What changed your mind? What made you realize that Lady Illynx was wrong?” Curious, gentle, yet prodding. She wanted to know. Her mind had been changed by a friend- what had he seen that had fixed his, if he had been racist once and now was not? “But do not worry, my friend, even I fell victim to Illynx's evil. The hatred she created in the Edge was infectious and when a unicorn but stopped by our borders to admire our glass wall, I was drawn into hating him and demanding he leave before I even knew him. Torleik... if only I could find him now to apologize. A good friend changed my mind, showed me the error of my ways.” Nevermind that her 'good friend' had actually been a source of nightmares for the queen for some time.

“I could never think you are the same as Illynx. You are far too kind.” Oh, what a lie she did not know she was telling. The wind blew, perhaps mocking her for her idiocy, but the painted queen simply enjoyed the breeze. “And you speak too much sense. I still can't fathom why she wants to stay so isolated...” she shook her head. “But I think that everyone has to think the same, at least at some points,” she decided on in the end. After all, she was not racist but she had just told a story of racism that had invaded her head and heart. At some point, she and Illynx had thought the same- had been sisters of the mind, if not of the flesh. “We all have fears, likes, dislikes, goals...” She stopped, hesitated, looking to him as though she was a pupil and he was a teacher. Was she saying the right thing? She was no philosopher and yet... he seemed to be bringing out the best in her addled mind. She liked him rather a lot.