#* mailbox.

She does not recognize the woman, per se, but her attire is familiar, a style that she has seen before in the noble court of Rigel. Celica takes a moment to study her face.

"Pardon, where are my manners. My name is Celica, of Zofia. I don't believe we've met. Are you from Valentia as well?"

Even if Celica wouldn’t have any reason to be able to identify her, recognition flashes across Rinea’s expression like a harsh streak of light. Of course she knows the Queen of Valentina’s face—it would be impossible not to, even with the brief amount of time she was allowed to remain in the newly-formed nation before she was whisked away to Fódlan. She had heard whispers as she quietly pushed her way through the busied streets in the port town, excited murmurs of the new queen, once a lost princess of Zofia. She’s beautiful and kind, she and King Alm will be our saviors from the chaos Emperor Rudolf left behind in his death. And before she had departed, she had bore witness to the beginnings of a mural painted in the newly-anointed Saint King and Saint Queen’s honor—and Rinea couldn’t help but think to herself that the vermilion-haired woman was indeed lovely. It was only a painting, but it evoked the same feeling that Rinea always had when she looked at portraits or statues of Mother Mila—like she was bathed in the warm glow of her benevolence just by looking at her.

Absently, as she turned away and was pushed aboard the ship setting sail to Fódlan, Rinea felt a silly thought creep up on her. If she had become empress as Berkut had once intended, would just the sight of her image give people the same feeling of comfort and safety? 

( ...Of course not. What a ridiculous idea to even entertain. )

Now, gazing at the woman before her, Rinea sees that the painting still did her justice in her radiance. How could she ever hope to compare?

Curtsying, Rinea starts with, “Yes—” but her throat suddenly feels dry, and the words catch on the tip of her tongue. She clears her throat and tries again, eyes lowered to her shoes. “Yes, my lady. It was my mother’s... I was allowed to bring a few things from home, so—” Again, she coughs into the bank of her hand, suddenly feeling very small and very unsightly. Argh, why did she have to notice her?! The mention of her mother only reminds her that her parents would be appalled by how disastrously she’s handling this.

* yeah .

* saving june prompts  /  accepting .

now  there’s  a  sentiment  sans  can  really  get  behind .    except,   in  his  case,   it’s  more  so  a  permanent  state  that  will  never  let’s  him  go .    only  means  he’s  best  qualified  to  give  advice  on  the  matter,   right ?

❝    * feelin’  the  age,   huh,   old  lady ?    ❞    tone  was  playful,   but  he  does  want  to  expand  on  the  quip  lest  he  just  ends  up  insulting  her .    ❝    * i  don’t  know  what  that  says  about  me,   seein’  as  i’m  tired  all  the  time .    ❞    pause  for  effect .

* saving june prompts  /  accepting .