It was probably best to move away from the dilemma of science versus childcare. The skyrider was growing convinced that there was going to be no science to it, only hearsay. Sinking back in the chair, Elyna focused on the words. Her initial reaction was one of frustration. The suggestion that her noble name was the reason for her promotion was an irritant. Hadn’t she worked for the best part of a decade within the Iron Hand? Hadn’t she devoted all the spare time of her youth to training and learning her craft? Her promotion had taken sweat and blood and toil and…she caught hold of her thoughts and tempered them. Mouth pressed into a thin line, the woman bowed her head and continued to listen.
What the woman expressed, was an alternative point of view and one that Elyna couldn’t say she had previously considered. What would of happened if it had been Faith who dealt the blow? A slave without station…a loose end? A shiver caused the woman to jolt. With her head bowed she could truly focus on the words and think. She found it easier to concentrate without the bright colours in the room, the gentle sway of billiards rolling on the table or the reflection of light in the glass. The thought of being made untouchable in the eyes of the populace was enough to make her move with discomfort. Her hand pressed to her belly and the shifting child within. A shy person, she detested the thought of being the topic of rumour and casual conversation. She was a skyrider, she loved her work and she could only hope that once the baby was born, she could return to it and meld back into obscurity. Slightly unkempt, dusty, unremarkable obscurity. The skyriders that she’d worked with, that knew her well were likely to be surprised when reminded of her noble heritage, or so she’d thought.
She smoothed her fingers over the soft fabric of her dress and looked up. The woman had given a careful and considered answer and Elyna offered a smile in response. “As you say, your judgment must be made on speculation. I like to argue, to believe at least that a promotion was given after nine arcs of service. I’d be lying however if I said my time with the Iron Hand had been in any way extraordinary or exemplary until this point,” she lifted a shoulder in a shrug. It was then that she drew a breath, holding the air in her lungs, “another solider, an unknown man was also granted an audience for his deed. He could have been…dealt with as you say, tied up. I think most would have already assumed he was dead after he crashed with a Volareon atop that beast,” her brows drew in a frown. She knew very little about the creature that had attacked. What was a true miracle though, was that Aeon had lived.
There was much to answer in the woman’s reply, but the night was extending and Elyna felt the weight of her pregnancy as she sat. A sip of cold water revived her energy for a moment and she sat forward. A spy? The blue skinned beauty before her was fishing and the cautious smile turned into a grin. Details that would be revealed over her head body, if she ever had a choice. About to excuse herself, she paused.
“And if I told you, that I’d been held prisoner at my Uncles command and that my actions were purely selfish?” She asked, voice light as she stood. The action taking more time than it should. The woman before her could see the pregnancy, she knew when the battle had taken place and surely she could work backwards. For any fool with eyes it was clear that Lady Burhan would have been very obviously pregnant at the time of the rebellion. “What if they were had simply been an act of self-preservation, with an additional outcome of curtailing the war. An outcome that I will remain grateful for, until my very last breath,” it was her turn to offer an apologetic look, realising that she’d left on a tangent, “I dislike a waste of life,” she admitted, “any life.”
What the woman expressed, was an alternative point of view and one that Elyna couldn’t say she had previously considered. What would of happened if it had been Faith who dealt the blow? A slave without station…a loose end? A shiver caused the woman to jolt. With her head bowed she could truly focus on the words and think. She found it easier to concentrate without the bright colours in the room, the gentle sway of billiards rolling on the table or the reflection of light in the glass. The thought of being made untouchable in the eyes of the populace was enough to make her move with discomfort. Her hand pressed to her belly and the shifting child within. A shy person, she detested the thought of being the topic of rumour and casual conversation. She was a skyrider, she loved her work and she could only hope that once the baby was born, she could return to it and meld back into obscurity. Slightly unkempt, dusty, unremarkable obscurity. The skyriders that she’d worked with, that knew her well were likely to be surprised when reminded of her noble heritage, or so she’d thought.
She smoothed her fingers over the soft fabric of her dress and looked up. The woman had given a careful and considered answer and Elyna offered a smile in response. “As you say, your judgment must be made on speculation. I like to argue, to believe at least that a promotion was given after nine arcs of service. I’d be lying however if I said my time with the Iron Hand had been in any way extraordinary or exemplary until this point,” she lifted a shoulder in a shrug. It was then that she drew a breath, holding the air in her lungs, “another solider, an unknown man was also granted an audience for his deed. He could have been…dealt with as you say, tied up. I think most would have already assumed he was dead after he crashed with a Volareon atop that beast,” her brows drew in a frown. She knew very little about the creature that had attacked. What was a true miracle though, was that Aeon had lived.
There was much to answer in the woman’s reply, but the night was extending and Elyna felt the weight of her pregnancy as she sat. A sip of cold water revived her energy for a moment and she sat forward. A spy? The blue skinned beauty before her was fishing and the cautious smile turned into a grin. Details that would be revealed over her head body, if she ever had a choice. About to excuse herself, she paused.
“And if I told you, that I’d been held prisoner at my Uncles command and that my actions were purely selfish?” She asked, voice light as she stood. The action taking more time than it should. The woman before her could see the pregnancy, she knew when the battle had taken place and surely she could work backwards. For any fool with eyes it was clear that Lady Burhan would have been very obviously pregnant at the time of the rebellion. “What if they were had simply been an act of self-preservation, with an additional outcome of curtailing the war. An outcome that I will remain grateful for, until my very last breath,” it was her turn to offer an apologetic look, realising that she’d left on a tangent, “I dislike a waste of life,” she admitted, “any life.”