Själ

The princess was off and away before she could note the colt's unusual silence, her ears pricked forward and her pace energetic. Her tail flicked against her hocks as she trotted, soon falling to a walk as the path narrowed. By then, she had become all-to-aware of the proximity of her badass. He was close to her, and she was suddenly shy, worried that she might say or do something silly and horrid. Oh, gods above, what if she tripped? What if she tripped and pushed him? What if she tripped and pushed him off the mountain.

Shut. Up, she told herself firmly, grateful that he could not see the heat mantling her cheeks at her rambling, incoherent thoughts.

His words, at least, were calming. She noted, suddenly, that she really liked his voice. It was... well, it was friendship, and happiness, and warmth. A lot of warmth -

The meaning of his comment, however, sank in and gave her pause. He didn't want to be king - and why should he? The girl's mother was an Empress, and look where that got her. She had gone mad, and then she had died, leaving her daughter alone in the world. Of late, Själ had begun to feel less and less like the princess her mother had claimed she was - perhaps she didn't want to be a queen any more than her badass wanted to be a king. "You're right," she agreed. "My mother was a queen once." Dare she say it? Dare she defy her mother's wishes, Psyche's dreams for her daughter? "But... I don't think she was a very good queen." It came out softly, a whisper in the wind. She looked down, frowning, her eyes troubled and vaguely glassy (no, they weren't teary) as she concentrated on putting one hoof in front of the other.

I don't think she loved me either.

But that, she could not bring herself to say. It didn't matter, in any case - not when she had friends like Zèklè to love... her...

To love her.

The girl knew that she liked her badass. She knew that she wanted to be around him, and that when she wasn't, she missed him (and that was quite the new feeling for her - she had never missed anyone before). She knew that he made her feel good, like a better, happier, kinder version of herself. She knew that he understood her, even when she didn't say anything at all. Was this was love was supposed to feel like? "I don't think I want to be a princess any more than you want to be a king," she said quickly, to hide the fluttering in her stomach and the stuttering of her mind. Immediately, she regretted it - it was too much a denial, too much a no, and that wasn't what she meant at all.

"I mean, like you said, I would rather spend time with you than be busy all the time." Did that even make sense? "I mean, with people." People I love. You. Love. What?

But her badass knight saved her, offering a new topic, and she grasped onto it gratefully. "What - careful!" she exclaimed, lunging to grasp a mouthful of his mane, overly conscious of the feeling of his wing as it flailed across her back. Realizing that she had overreacted, she stepped back, bashfully coughing as though to clear her throat (rather than to hide her embarrassment). "Um, so, what does your mother have against companions? Ansgar is my only family. If it wasn't for her, I'd have been alone all this time." Well, that wasn't entirely true. Snö was out there somewhere, right? In any case, she had inadvertently answered the boy's question.

"I - well - sort of?" she stammered in response to his query about her family. "I met my half-sister when I first came to Helovia, but I don't know where she is now. I think she hated me, anyway," she admitted, her mouth twisting sadly. "I don't really know why. She told me to leave, and I haven't seen her since. My mother died, and I don't know who my father is. For all I know, I could have brothers and sisters somewhere." She shrugged, refusing to admit, even to herself, how much it stung that she was so alone.

"But thats okay. How old are your sisters? What are they like? What about your mother, what's she like?" What's it like to have a family? "Where do you live? I don't live anywhere yet. Do you think you'll ever get a companion?" Was she asking too many questions? It felt like too many questions. She peered at him curiously all the same, a shy smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Speak."
--Ansgar.--