Chaos and uncertainty remain in the aftermath of the Balisekt War. With the Lands of Order in such a fragile state, the tribal races turn to Tranquility, their holy land, for guidance and stability. However, war has left the Temple more shaken than...
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Even when Dewdrop wasn't out amongst her people, she could sense their anxiety. Worry and fear had become so prevalent in Windsong that they were inescapable. Faeries stayed home as much as possible, leaving the common areas of the city mostly empty. Those that did venture out seemed perpetually nervous. A lot about a faerie's mood could be determined by their wings. If the wings were down at their sides, they were relaxed and at ease. If spread out wide they were anxious or afraid, ready to fly away at the first sign of danger. Wherever the faerie queen looked, the wings she saw were as wide as possible, even in her presence, where expanded wings were considered rude.
Every visitor she saw brought a different variation on the same message. They told of frightened citizens, exhausted Thorns, and an economy brought to a halt by uncertainty. It all had the same underlying cause: worry that Tranquility may punish them for defying the Temple. An evening report telling of goblins patrolling the border only served to make matters worse. The Rose sent each faerie away with the same responses. She assured their safety and asked them to reassure the citizenry that Tranquility simply didn't have the power it was brandishing. Either the message wasn't resonating with the faeries or wasn't being delivered. Either way, it was becoming apparent that the people would need to hear from the Rose herself.
She'd spent the night soul searching after Mantis' report. Sealed away in her tiny apartment below the palace, the air became cold and her eyes became adjusted to the near darkness. Little sleep came to her, so she spent the long hours amongst the few possessions of her former life she still had. Her hands explored the trinkets, recalling how they felt in her years before becoming the Rose, but they offered her comfort more than a chance to reminisce. Her mind wasn't on the past but on something even more forbidden. She couldn't stop thinking about Sparrow.
She was able to fool herself at first, convinced that she was concerned for the Thorn captain's mission and not the faerie herself. After all, she was still greatly concerned for Firefly, and from that concern, the quest was born. However, all Dewdrop's mind could recall was that night in her chamber beneath the stage. When she finally admitted that the moment would never stop haunting her thoughts, she wondered if it was solely due to the nature of the meeting. Sparrow had seen Dewdrop, not the Rose when they met in secret. Everything about the encounter went against hundreds of years of faerie tradition. It was enough to stick in the mind of any troubled soul, but it wasn't worry she felt when she recalled the moment. She didn't know what it was at first because she'd never felt it before. It was a feeling she'd only heard about and never thought she'd experience for herself.
She'd never been in love before.
And that was the simple, horrifying truth. It was unlikely as it was illegal, but the realization had come with the dawn. Throughout Sparrow's career in the assassin order, Dewdrop had always known there was something special about her. Every move she made and word she spoke resonated with her. Her smile made Dewdrop's legs feel weak, and she found it increasingly difficult to keep up the facade of her station in her presence. When she addressed the Captain as herself and not the queen, it was out of necessity. Deep down, she knew she couldn't be the Rose if the two of them were alone.
