Her emotions were oil and the spark to ignite her anger was in the queen's next words. Or lack of words. Negotiating with Mab was hell, but cold. The ice was biting into her skin, but anger heated her, setting her emotions on fire. She wanted to burn this wretched kingdom. She wanted to beat the ice castle until it shattered. Meghan breathe, she commended herself. In, out. Repeat. In, out. Mab was being fair to her people as she was with hers. Meghan glanced at the stone faced queen. Bs.
An advisor of her iciness murmured something to the unfeeling block of ice of a queen, but Meghan didn't hear it. Her heart thumped within her and she focused on the power of glamour intwined with flesh and bone under her skin. She could do this. A few more minutes, then she could be done.
Mab looked as new as the beginning of the meeting. Meghan felt burned out, the feeling of a sunburn after a day with no aloe to cool and cure her. In, out. A few minutes.
Finally, finally Mab spoke.
"I will discuss your issues."
Meghan wanted to throw something. She wanted to storm up to the queen and slap her. She wanted emotion from this unyielding woman of ice. She wanted to shatter something. However, glancing down, her dress was not what she wanted to destroy in. Huffing, she held up her dress to stand.
"Thank you," She responded, frostily.
Meghan grabbed her thin notebook of plastic and paper, and a pencil of wood and eraser, and headed out. She had brought no advisors inside, for they were made of iron much to Mab's dislike, and her tools were of plastic and wood. Tablets and citizens were left in Mag Turith much to her disappointment.
Mab's voice reached Meghan before she could open the ice hell's doors.
"And do bring dear Ash next time," she bit boldly, "I haven't seen him since last Elysium."
Meghan bit right back.
"And you won't see him until the next one," she drawled, "unless we can get progress on your guards to stop harassing my citizens."
Mab's gaze hardened. Meghan straightened her back. Hide the feelings inside. Armor your outside, veil your inside. Meghan gazed right back, eyes hard as well. After a few moments, she whipped around her dress of tulle shuffling to keep up. Meghan strode out, slamming the door of the throne room.
Trekking through the bleak winter outside the castle to her carriage, Meghan shivered horribly. The thick jacket she grabbed back from a guard did nothing to help contain precious heat. Finally, finally she saw Glitch a few footsteps away, and a readied carriage. She sighed a thank you and he helped her inside. A warm blanket awaited her as well as a tablet to mark everything from the meeting.
----
Exhausted, Meghan trudged into her iron castle. It was as chaotic and peaceful as she left it. Gremlins rushed about, but silence permeated around. A constant hum and pulse of wires and glamour whirled around her senses. Glitch silently notified her a hallway was being repaired and she'd have to go through the throne room to her room. She numbly nodded, and thank him. He bowed, and went off about duties.
Stepping into the throne room an animal bound toward her. Beau. Beau ran up to Meghan panting, drooling over the gray and white tulle that swathed Meghan. Not that she liked the dress anyway. A smile snuck out of her as she bent down and pet her dog. Beau licked her hand and ran off beyond her. She closed her eyes and got up again.
Her delicate ears detected something. Someone. Someone who moved like the advancing evening. She whirled around. No one. Then hands, arms, and a scent filled her surroundings. She tensed, then relaxed once she realized who it was.
"Ash," she breathed.
