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[center][color=lightgray][h3]*   *   *[/h3][/color][/center]
[center][sub]Interactions: Kira [@The Muse][/sub][/center]
[center][sub]Mentions: Daphne [@PrinceAlexus][/sub][/center]

[color=lightgray]Basket of now-cold breakfast in hand, Katherine paced through the snow in silence. Large snowflakes dotted the ink-black fabric of her robes like falling stars, only visible for a moment before they melted into the void. Like always, each step was practiced and made with intent, though utterly silent in the snow just as she’d been taught. Her mind was mostly elsewhere however, dragging guilt of the past behind her like a rusted chain.

She clenched her jaw as Amaya’s face flickered in her thoughts, the image lodging itself between her ribs and forcing a shaky breath from Katherine’s lips. Stopping for a moment, she closed her eyes and took in a breath, shoving the memory down with the speed of someone who was far too adept at burying inconvenient ghosts.

Katherine instead pulled her focus to the basket in her hand, its weight swaying gently back and forth with each step she took.

What she wouldn’t do to share Daphne’s comfort again right now. 

Instead of the warmth they’d shared last night, the familiar cold air now clung to her skin. It snuck its way through her robes and brought a chill to her that ran the length of her spine. But it was predictable, and far easier to endure in place of the quiet tempest that brewed behind her eyes.

The soft glow of the tavern’s lanterns came into view at the street’s end, flickering like distant beacons through the white haze. Her pace slowed for half a breath, hesitation gnawing at her heels. There would be warmth there. Fire. Unfamiliar faces. And questions—spoken or otherwise. The only thing she’d known to spread faster than both fire and the blight itself, were rumors. 

And she’d done a damn good job of giving people plenty to talk about. Considering how ghastly she’d felt the night before after her…interrogation—and the way the prince had looked at her, it was clear her misery had been plain to see.

[color=19CACA][i]“Let them whisper”[/i][/color] she muttered to herself, annoyed at her own thoughts, [color=19CACA][i]“It’s not their ghosts I have to carry.”[/i][/color]

Her silent footsteps loudened as she climbed the stairs leading into the Eye. Katherine stopped a moment and took a breath, the features of her face settling into their usual, practiced state of unreadable calm. Then, she paced inside and let the warmth of the hearthfire warm her to the bone.

The warmth of the tavern pressed against her like a wall—the low hum of conversation, the crackle of fire, the faint scent of ale and smoke curling through the air.

And with it, the feeling of a handful of gazes being sent her way.

Subtle and scattered, but there all the same—a few heads turned, voices dipped, the clatter of a tankard paused mid-table. Their stares weren’t hostile enough to be called confrontation, but they also weren’t indifferent enough to be ignored. Her robes always seemed to stir some quiet curiosity when she entered a place like this. Or resentment from those who were just as skeptical about this alliance as her superiors were.

Katherine kept her hood low, spine straight, and her expression unreadable as her boots carried her across the room towards the hearthfire. She could feel their attention trailing after her—the way one might watch a wolf stray too close to the sheep pen. Cautious. Wary. Waiting to see what she'd do.

She didn’t look back. She never did. Let them wonder. Let them watch. She was far too used to it by now.

The priestess took a seat at the bar, but waved off its tender just as quickly. Alcohol had never solved any issues within her household, it wasn’t going to change anything now. She just needed the eyes that were trained on her to leave, to return to their conversations about goddess-knew-what. 

It never took long. The moment stretched for a few heartbeats longer at most, before chairs began to creak and conversations stirred once more.

Only then did Katherine lower her hood and turn to examine her surroundings.

It wasn’t the absence of eyes that truly pulled her attention from the crowd, but the presence of another familiar and uninvited face. One that was framed by long, flame-red hair and that wore the same torn edges of frayed patience as herself. The woman’s posture mirrored Katherine’s own—shoulders drawn tight, eyes shadowed with quiet calculation, the unmistakable air of someone who carried their past like a blade tucked beneath their ribs.

[i][color=#9E0B0F]N[/color][color=#901E21]i[/color][color=#833134]g[/color][color=#764447]h[/color][color=#685759]t[/color][color=#5B6A6C]s[/color][color=#4E7D7F]h[/color][color=#409091]a[/color][color=#33A3A4]d[/color][color=#26B6B7]e.[/color][/i] 

Katherine felt the presence within her recognize the woman just as quickly as she had herself. 

[color=19CACA][i]Of course you’re here,[/i][/color] Katherine laughed internally, hands pushing against the bar. [color=19CACA][i]Dawnhaven sure knows how to collect its ghosts, doesn’t it?[/i][/color]

With a quiet pace, Katherine slipped from the bar without a sound, her robe flowing behind her like a phantom. The tavern’s patrons were easy enough to navigate; shoulders hunched over drinks, backs turned in conversation, eyes mostly fixed on their own troubles. She wove through them like a shadow, the chatter of the crowd masking the sound of her footsteps almost perfectly.

Kira hadn’t seen her yet. The redhead’s sharp gaze was fixed ahead, a small bottle of alcohol between her fingers. Katherine felt a slight moment of pride as she came to a stop just behind her; sneaking up on Kira was something that was far more easily said than done. 

Her fingers rose quietly to the pendant of Seluna resting at her throat, the familiar weight of it cool against her skin. With practiced care, she unfastened the delicate clasp and slipped it free. Nestled behind the moon-shaped pendant, hidden from sight but never forgotten, was a single gold coin strung along the same chain — plain in design, yet unmistakable. One side bore the Aurelian crest, the other, the warm likeness of King Auric himself.

Then, in a single fluid step, she closed the final paces that remained between herself and Kira, and placed the coin flat onto the table before her. Without a word, she slid it forward, the golden edge glinting faintly in the firelight as it came to rest directly in front of her. Katherine’s eyes lingered on the redhead’s face, sharp and steady, searching for the smallest flicker of recognition.

[color=19CACA]“You’re supposed to be dead.”[/color] Katherine’s voice carried no warmth, no hostility—just the cool, steady weight of simple fact.
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