It takes her a moment, or rather, once she watches him rise, that she turns away. She was here for a purpose, and it wasn't him - as she turns back to that empty museum, a mess of bullets. A distant ring of an alarm that says that if they don't have company now, they will soon. The sign of the display that proudly writes the history of the jewels that had once occupied the box that was smashed to bits.
Given to the adopted son of the Rani of Jhansi, who was denied the throne -- ;
It didn't matter. Her shoulders roll stiff and back, her head lifting up like it could all slide as water off her skin, as she turns back to him. Whatever crossed over her face, whatever grief and longing and the ache of things that should have been - gone again now.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2017-08-17 03:36 am (UTC)Given to the adopted son of the Rani of Jhansi, who was denied the throne -- ;
It didn't matter. Her shoulders roll stiff and back, her head lifting up like it could all slide as water off her skin, as she turns back to him. Whatever crossed over her face, whatever grief and longing and the ache of things that should have been - gone again now.