Ryatah is not like the others. It is surprising, on one hand, and refreshing on the other. Perhaps when you have had as much success as she has had, perhaps when you have drowned in it, perhaps it begins to lose its taste. Perhaps it becomes metallic on the tongue. Leliana doesn’t know, but she knows that she can appreciate that Ryatah doesn’t come seeking her own—she doesn’t try to use her as a stepping stone.
In fact, Leliana is quite sure that she would never talk to her if she didn’t find her herself.
There’s something refreshing about that, trustworthy even, and Leliana wonders on it as she studies the mare’s porcelain features. “I don’t believe congratulations are accurate,” she says quietly, velvet lips wrapping around the words and softening the edges. “But, then again, you knew that.”
Ryatah knew better than most just how poisonous the crown could be.
She knew what Leliana faced—and it wasn’t just power and glory.
At the next question, Leliana glances away for a second, frowning into the distance before looking back. “I follow a path that was laid before me; what happens next has little to do with my own decisions.” It could be a cop out—a way to sidestep responsibility for what is to come—but she believes Ryatah will know the truth of it. “If Loess chooses peace, if they choose to release their captives, then I have very little plans other than watching over the inhabitants of Tephra.” She takes a deep breath. “But we both know kingdoms like Loess do not relinquish power so easily and I cannot turn a blind eye any longer.”
@[Ryatah]
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