This is my kingdom come- [any]

[Dacia]

I can still hear you saying - 
you would never break the chain

Though the Chamber is her home, it’s not what keeps her returning to its safety time after time. Yes, Dacia had been born here, she had grown up here, she cared for it as anyone would care for their land of origin. The Chamber would always have ties to her blood. But, it does not fill her head in the same way that it fills Lupei’s. In fact, Dacia had been absent most of the war. There was nothing she could offer in defense of the Kingdom, and despite what others would say, she knew that if she had tried her hand at fighting she would have been more trouble than help. No, there is no duty in her actions to remain. Only feeling.

Astri had warned her of this when she had been a child. The sharp, green mare had tried her best to instill within her daughter the importance of not becoming attached to any one place or thing. It was weakness, to have a weakness. But, after all her teachings and all her mother’s efforts to turn Dacia into a weapon of lust, still there remained something that the colorful mare lusted after. Her dam would be so disappointed. She wonders though, as she watches him rub against a lone pine now, wearing away the bark to leave the very essence of himself against the tree, she wonders if Astri would be so against this particular interaction.

For God’s sake - the new King had been there shortly after her birth, had helped her mother discovered her gift. In some ways, he’d always been tied to the curvy little chamberling. “Killdare …” She breaths, the sound inaudible to him. He’d just returned from a trip abroad and already she can see the signs of stress beginning to take their hold. Though the molten crown does look rather symbolic on his head, it still bears a weight of its own. She smiles, softly, and steps from her hiding place - casting off her camouflage in preference for a coat of solid, bright red. Her eyes are painted; golden markings of no origin or discernable language, and they mimic themselves along all four of her legs. To add a touch of flair, she lets the same golden color bleed out into her mane and tail, thus the transformation becomes complete.

“How did it go?” She questions softly, marveling at his new power. It suits him, this coat of magma, just as everything suits him in her eyes.

Dacia;

color-changing vixen of the chamber