The Sol who'd been wearing a smirk on her face full-on smiled as Darin pointed to her. She seemed older than Ridahne, though not by much. It was hard to tell, except for a general air of an additional helping of a sedate confidence that came only with age. Still, remarkably young for a Sol. The successors, each of them standing by their respective Sols as they took in the situation, learning from the wisdom and folly of those who came before them, ranged from Ridahne's age to as old as one or two of the Sols themselves. Unlike the rule of kings, the line of succession was not determined by blood, but by an early choice and centuries of training. Promising individuals were either brought before the Sols, or were found by scouts and observed for a few years before being brought on in an official capacity. This new Sol did not have one just yet, as she herself had barely (in the reckoning of the elves) been selected for her position as Sol. She lacked a cold loftiness that all the others seemed to have either adopted, grown into, or had from the start. Her posture was very...relaxed, too. Very civilian, Ridahne thought. 

This woman shook her head softly, silver beads clinking in her braids done in a style similar to Ridahne's. "Don't speak too quickly now. It's not at all about what I know, or think I know." She chuckled. "It's about what I see. But forgive me, I'm new to this." And more privately but still out loud, she said to the Sota-Sol, "Evidently, Amaiera-Sol, she does not like you...I'm not so sure you'll win her over." 
Amaiera-Sol sighed, briefly lamenting to herself the other woman's brevity before she looked up to consider, her, then Ridahne, and then Darin. She nodded once, slowly. "Perhaps not. We will speak later, Astra-Sol. I would not deprive you of your answers."

Ridahne sort of numbly followed behind Darin, though not so numbly that she forgot to stand up straight, hold her banner high, and flick her hair back away from her face to better show off her ojih. Inside, she might be a jumbled mess of emotions, but on the outside, she would have each of them remember her pride and dignity. But once they were at the stables and seeing to their animal companions (who had been given cool water, fresh hay, and a white sliver of shelled coconut as a treat) she loosened up a little and let her feelings surface. She kept touching the nimarih, and more than once she admired her reflection in the polished surface of a buckle. She felt...free. Almost. There was one more demon here she needed to face. But the bulk of her anxiety had melted away...until she caught sight of Darin's expression. 

Ridahne thought the exchange had gone remarkably well, but Darin seemed to feel otherwise. And in that moment, for the first time ever she felt caught between her homeland and its traditions and ways and her identity there, and Darin. The pent-up joy and relief she'd been feeling melted away in an instant and Ridahne sighed, sounding defeated. "On this one...I think I disagree with you. Or rather, your assessment. Knowing what I know of how they are, and how WE are, I'd say that was a remarkable and noteworthy exchange. I...actually thought it went well. I know you've never been fond of them, and you don't have to love them. But maybe I've villainized them too much, I don't know, because it feels...well did you [I]hear[/I] what she said back there? Not only did they take what I'd told them seriously and do an investigation and also some serious introspection, but they outright admitted they'd done wrong--publicly, mind--and called me 'the most honest servant of Azurei'. I don't think you realize the gravity of that statement alone. You might call what she said 'excuses' but...first of all, I would have done the same in her position, to a degree. And she might not know real war, but a riot would be just as devastating to us. Azurei's survival in this land has always been tenuous and it doesn't take much to tip that out of balance. I would have killed me too, if it would prevent that. But she's got a point. If things hadn't happened the way they did, you wouldn't have me. Yes, I got hurt in the process. But it won't be the last time I am hurt for Astra's sake. For your sake." She said this softly, kindly, like it was a gift she was eager to give. "That is my place in this world and I will not lament it, and neither should you." 

The door opened and Ridahne turned, expectant, but she released her held breath when a woman in white silk entered. It was Khaltira's replacement, and she strode right up to the pair of them without pretense or preamble. She bowed. "Hanasha-Sol. We never got properly introduced."
Ridahne's eyes narrowed, trying to decipher her intentions. "What do you want?"
Hanasha-Sol tilted her head a little, a faint hint of that smirk showing up again. "Aren't I technically your Sol? You are of Atakhara, correct?"
Ridahne, who stood taller than the other woman, merely answered, "I killed my Sol." It was a cold threat. [I]I do not answer to you.[/I] Ridahne had really been thrilled by the meeting earlier, but she'd be a liar if she said she didn't harbor some level of mistrust, there. And so, despite defending them moments before, she had an edge to her tone now. 
Hanasha-Sol chuckled. "That you did, that you did. I suppose I have you to thank for my current position. I'm still getting used to it. I'm still getting used to the [I]food[/I]. It's not at all like Atakhara."
"Are you from there?"
"Yes. They thought it would be best if the next Sol did not come from a wealthy family--someone who knew the life of her own people."
"Mmm." It was noncommittal, but Ridahne did approve of that decision. Sols were not necessarily always chosen from wealthy families--the qualities they looked for had little to do with money or resources. But most of Azurei's poor were too busy scratching out a living from the land or the sea to give much thought or inclination towards leadership. 
Hanasha-Sol bowed specifically to Darin. "Apologies, Astra-Sol. I think you and I got off on the wrong foot, as they say. I'm sorry if I offended you, but I assure you, I meant no disrespect. Actually, quite the opposite. I've heard many tales and legends about both of you, and I was eager to see how you lived up to the stories. I couldn't have hoped for better. I was smiling because I liked what I saw, and also because it's refreshing to have someone come before us and not melt into a puddle of politeness and circuitous pleasantries. I think this palace could use a few more of your sort around here. Speaking of, Ridahne, have you given thought to what you'll do...later?"
"Sort of," Ridahne answered, her tone clipped. Truthfully, she hadn't thought about it enough and had no answers for even herself, and didn't like admitting it.
And with a casualness and bluntness much like Ridahne herself, Hanasha-Sol asked, "Want to be my successor to the throne?"

Ridahne actually coughed. "Excuse me?"
"This place needs more people who are willing to set aside tradition and do what needs to be done. I have the right to choose my successor as I please, and none may tell me otherwise. But only if you're willing." 
"[I]No[/I]," Ridahne practically blurted, bewildered. "No, I'll have no part in..." she gestured around her, indicating the whole of the palace. "[I]This[/I]. I don't blame the Sols for my path in life--not anymore. But I don't want to be one of them." 
Hanasha-Sol shrugged, sighing. "I guessed as much, but I had to try. I want to surround myself with people who would rather see me dead than let me poison Azurei. You seem to have a good handle on what's right and wrong, and what's really going on under the surface, and what is best for Azurei. So I thought..." she shrugged again. "I could make you a Taja, you know."
Ridahne blinked. "You can't make me a Taja, there are no women Taja." 
"Yet." Was all Hanasha-Sol said with a smirk. 

She was right though. It was unheard of, but possible. Male Taja had been the tradition for so long, but there was no good reason she could not be the first female. And if a Sol wanted her to be, she could be. But did she want to be? Really, she didn't know. Part of her wanted to wash her hands of all of this and never be a tool again. But then again, she would not be a hand, she would be an arm, a shield. To defend and protect and occasionally advise. And what was she supposed to do, get back into fishing?

"My duty is to Darin and Astra first. None other." There was an unspoken [I]I'm not going to deal with this right now[/I] undertone to her words.
Hanasha-Sol nodded knowingly. "Of course. Well, think about it, Ridahne. Pardon my intrusion, Astra-Sol. I will leave you both. Safe travels." And with that, Hanasha-Sol left the stables, leaving behind a somewhat more exhausted Ridahne than before.