your mouth is poison; your mouth is wine
(you think your dreams are the same as mine)
‘That’s not going to happen.’ She wishes that was true, but she knows it’s not. All will die, but she knows that her death would be much faster than others. Where others may have decades (or centuries, in the way of many Beqanna residents), she would be lucky to have years. Not that she simply accepted the fact, although she should. She railed against her fate with all of her might—quietly. On the surface, she remained peaceful, serene, with her dreamy eyes and soft smiles; but beneath it all, she was all storms and impossible dreams. There was adventure in her breast and hopes that impossibly filled her chest.
But she doesn’t share either the idealist or dreamer side of her, merely nodded with a shy smile at him. “Let’s go then,” she cannot deny the excitement in her breast at the idea of it. She had been so sheltered that the idea of visiting a kingdom seemed so grandiose and mighty. She only wishes that Contagion could be with her as they traveled.
She would love to see his kind eyes light up with wonder.
And so, the pair travels from the meadow washed with morning light to the kingdom. The journey is mostly silent with Adaline concentrating on the path before her, determined to make her way without falling and breaking open in front of him. (Something that seemed mortifying for more reasons than she could explain.) She wonders, for a moment, if he finds her dull company, but she does not have a long time to dwell on the fact, for before she knows it, they are there—and it is magnificent. “Oh,” she breathes in pleasure, her rosy eyes bright with her joy. “It is amazing.” The light is still soft on the kingdom, and the hills roll gently in the backdrop. It is enough to cause her heart to constrict in excitement, and she feels herself grow dizzy with it. “How wonderful it must be to live here.”