Neverwhere;

[Castile]

and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was

Castile cannot suppress the snort that rattles his nostrils. ”Oh, I’m very familiar with Heartfire,” a loose chuckle tumbles, enveloped with the bittersweet memories he shared with the previous queen. ”Fun fact: I’ve known Heartfire since my childhood and saw her as an aunt. So, it shouldn’t entirely surprise me that she thrusted the crown on your head.” Just because of his ignorant perception of familiarity to Heartfire doesn’t entirely mean they were always amiable or respectful. Their relationship shifted when he ascended Loess’ throne and expressed high ambitions with Lepis alongside him.

But Neverwhere doesn’t need to know the gritty details or the tension that blossomed in recent years.

It’s a matter of the past, one that Castile lets slip through his hands as he looks ahead toward a Nerinian future with the current Queen at the helm.

”Applause to you for living with her,” he chuckles more lightheartedly this time, chiseling away the ice between them. Her patience with his aunt is commendable, and it obviously worked in her favor since the kingdom now rests on her shoulders. An unconventional leader, but intriguing nonetheless. Slowly, their conversation solidifies Castile’s opinion of her and the position she clutches in her palm. ”While she likes the occasional joke, she obviously saw something in you,” an acknowledging shrug punctuates the compliment as sincerity – and residual curiosity – soften his expression beneath her scrutiny. His humor and gradual warmth seemingly unlock another layer. Lifting a brow, Castile is admittedly surprised to witness Neverwhere’s acquiescence of a tour, even if it isn’t her forte, she confides.

Nodding, Castile takes the offer and walks alongside her, his eyes drinking in everything like it’s the first time again. ”I doubt I can offer you much, but I’ll tell you what you want to know if you tell me,” in mid-step, he glances sideways at her with a glimmer in his eye – his orange being what she sees of him – and a coy grin, ”almost like a 21 questions game.” Truthfully, he isn’t certain whether she will oblige, or where her opinions stand, but he allows a few moments of contemplation as they approach the cliffs, the ocean lapping at the shore far below. The relaxing rhythm is a lullaby he fell asleep to each night as a boy. Tense formality melts from his muscles, reliving his old memories while absorbing the minute changes of the kingdom. Swallowing a lungful of salty air, Castile returns his attention to Neverwhere, his chin lifted inquisitively. ”How long have you lived here? Both Nerine and Beqanna.” An easy start to their game of intel.

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