Djinni’s bright grin is reflected in Nayl’s humor, and it grows brighter as the other tobiano replies in turn. She has missed Nayl’s sharp sense of humor and self-confidence, and she is grateful that she’ll not be made to actually say it.
“Of course,” she says instead, unaware of exactly what is spinning through Nayl’s mind. She has never asked either Nayl or Stillwater about their relationship. What she knows she has pieced together from offhanded comments the two of them had made over the years. She knows that Nayl had denied Stillwater (he had said as much), and that Nayl thinks he has no feelings for her anymore. That was enough for Djinni, and combined with the little that the black stallion has said of Nayl over the last year she has made the logical assumption that whatever might have been between the two of them was long over and that it had never really begun to start with.
Most importantly, she hadn’t really meant to do anything, and so it doesn’t really count.
No one will ever know what happened between them but Djinni and Stillwater; why shouldn’t a mare and her consort not spend time together? Of course, their time together had been minimal until recently, and after their encounter it will take far more than a dip in the pond to scrub away exactly what had happened. The scrapes and bites along her neck have already begun to fade, and perhaps it is their presence that has her eyeing the same places on Nayl with more intense scrutiny than usual. She does not doubt that the pied queen has her pick of suitors; even Djinni would have gladly volunteered to warm her bed (at least before they’d become friends; she would not want to ruin that).
“I’ve been sending you recruits to soften the blow of my absence,” she says with a crooked smile, mocking graciousness “How have Heartfire and Brennen been?” The bay stallion had even said something about bringing his granddaughters to Nerine; Djinni hopes they’ve done more than just boost the head count beside the sea.
If her reply has evaded Nayl’s statement about her heart, at least she doesn’t neglect to answer the question entirely. “Sylva’s been doing well. Growing, though slowly. We seem to have the only allied kingdoms in this new Beqanna.” Her experience with politics is the same as many others; she is conditioned to allies and treaties and enemies. This newer, slower way of life is relaxing after what she had been expecting. Still, she cannot help but worry that something lurks beneath the surface of apparent calm.
She’d rather avoid thinking about that so she distracts herself. “But that’s politics. How have you been?”
slim build
smoky grullo tobiano
sea green eyes