one of the less entertaining things about the sudden deluge of foreign dignitaries and their entourage, was definitely the fact they were now, quite literally, everywhere. like the grains of blasted sand they seeped into the every pore, crack and crevice of palazzo strozzi. she did not exaggerate. they truly were everywhere. she had hoped she would find some respite in the veiled sea, but imagine her distaste when she'd found it already occupied. it had still been early in evening and she was not going to allow the guests to imprison her to her chambers in her own blasted castle! instead, she fashioned her expression into something less outwardly menacing and more... welcoming.

though it had been a herculanean feat.

while she was, technically, the hostess, it did not mean she had to make small talk if she did not deem it necessary. those who ventured to mare velato usually sought out tranquility and solitude. contemplation. the plinking-plonking of the water droplets paired up with the soothing tone of the violins and harps. sometimes, she liked to believe the musicians were commissioned to play to the waters, rather than the people flocking in and out of the chambers. it wouldn't surprise her -- it could have been something far worse, anyway.

still, the tranquility did not last long as the silence that stretched between her and the unwanted companion took an uncomfortable turn, further accentuated by the lull of the music. as the hostess, she had her duties -- unfortunately.

"I trust you are settling in nicely. are you in want of something? perhaps refreshments?" caterina asked, just now turning to look at the occupant of mare velato.

adunni aware of the unnerving sentiment as slender shoulders slightly creak with the burdened pressure of responsibility—to her family and most importantly, people. the heir to the boyega empire wishing to be anywhere but at this damn summit. though, the sudden emergence of salt water helps. anything that resembles the sea, really. adunni beckoned to its call to come home. and rid herself of any trouble that is not hers to maneuver, much less endure.

yet, she knows better. may be the only person with the last name boyega who actually does. and perhaps, it is this reluctant acceptance of power ( along with her blessed anointing ) that has governed the fates to choose her above all else; to lead their house towards safer, fruitful pastures. for adunni is one hell of a navigator, after all.

“careful. or I may just take you up on the offer and swipe what available whiskey you have.” chuckles the experienced sailor. leather boots muffled by the miniscule, gusts of wind that skillfully mask the unwanted detection of her presence. a subtle display of power and precision she knows caterina will appreciate and respect. “how are you, my friend?” 

come, my love, be one with the sea. rule with me for eternity. drown all dreams so mercilessly. and leave their souls to me (x)

Don’t you have anything else to say to me besides whale talk? No. Right. You don’t? No, I don’t.

On wanting/On being wanted (the way a predator wants its prey)/On lacking it/On having to