Maya's eyes lower from the stars; she looks at the glass rather than at what can be seen through it. Two reflections -- faceless, blurs of shape and color -- are barely visible.
"For a thousand years, the castle burned, hopes and dreams in ashes, kingdoms born and raised, generations sacrificed on the pyre..." she murmurs, with the slow, comfortable cadence of something known by and in heart. "And yet shining untouched, the knight's moon watched, and in its silence, wept."
The spell that Maya was under now broken, her lips turn upward. "Yes, you witch," she says, and she only has to lean an inch or two to bump Alex's shoulder lightly with her own.
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The night is bright and clear. Everything is still and silent outside -- even the city, from this height. You'd almost think it was peaceful.
Damn battle tomorrow's making her philosophical. Or maybe it's her best friend, instead. She'll blame Maya, either way.
"All the wars in all of time," Alexandra Goncharova says to the window and the night sky. "The moon has seen every one."
"For as long as we've been killing each other, it's watched us."
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"For a thousand years, the castle burned, hopes and dreams in ashes, kingdoms born and raised, generations sacrificed on the pyre..." she murmurs, with the slow, comfortable cadence of something known by and in heart. "And yet shining untouched, the knight's moon watched, and in its silence, wept."
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The thread of wry amusement in Alex's voice is old and familiar too, like the quirk of her smile.
Both are softer than usual, right now.
"That's from that old book you love so much, isn't it? The illegal one?"
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"Castle Justice. And it's not illegal anymore."
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