Medusa's estimation of Arael's happiness was not far from the truth. Everything about today - from the light that bathed her back to the fresh heather that swirled around her figure - was perfect. The only thing missing from the moment was Ironclad, but Ary didn't mind too much. He had certainly seemed busy as of late, and she didn't want to intrude on his business.
Equally, Arael could not hide her delight at Medusa's inquiry. Her lips curved into a shy smile that could not stay small for long. "Etheria is my deity," she said matter-of-factly, casting her gaze toward the bright shining sun overhead. "She's the sun goddess and she watches over my whole family with her golden light. She's the reason I'm here, really," Arael finished, her mind reflecting on the series of signs that had led her from Deimos to Xiomara, and then from the warrior queen to the handsome grey prince. "She showed me the way here by sending me Ironclad. She marks her chosen with light coats," she says unashamedly, gesturing to the nearly white hue of her coat. The last remaining gold of her coat clung only to her knees now, bathing the rest of her body in pristine alabaster.
Medusa goes on to excuse Arael's shyness, and the pale mare warms further to her new queen. As a young filly, Arael had been precocious and social and warm, but maturity had tempered her easy trust. After Deimos had left her, newly pregnant, homeless and alone, she had begun to doubt not only in the wisdom of her goddess, but in herself as well. Etheria's children were not perfect, and while she knew that, it was much harder to excuse her own mistakes.
The tobiano then goes on to explain that she had been betrothed to Ironclad and Arael's petite brow furrows. It was a practice she had heard of in distant lands, but not one that she had ever seen practiced. At least, not in the same way. Many of her sisters had found their betrothed via a sign from Etheria, delivered to a high priest and then shared with the herd, but it was never something that a parent assigned. When Medusa goes further to explain that she'd gone through a rebellious stage, Arael eyed her with more interest. Perhaps Medusa could shed some light on her struggles with Velahrn and her daughter's stubborn streak.
Arael's gaze flicked to the various figures that grazed in the distance with some thought at her companion's question and dragged in a slow breath. Finally, she shook her head gently with a small and rueful laugh. "I can't imagine there's much else to do if you're this gracious with everyone. Perhaps they are just shy too--"
The small mare's voice trails off as the sharp figure of their king differentiates itself from the surroundings and marks a path towards them. Even with the melancholic look that he wears, he is a handsome figure and it is with no small amount of envy that she watches him settle next to Medusa. Courteously she dips her head in greeting and averts her eyes for a moment until the near-curtsy finishes. Only then does her gaze flick back up to the pair of them with a soft smile, her soft gaze sparkling.
"Oh, yes my King. It's beautiful here." She says warmly, casting a soft look to the side. This land was made of fairytales, despite the frigid winter and spring temperatures. The heather, now that it was in bloom, made Arael feel as though she were walking through a story. At his second question, the heat rises in her face as the feeling of having let him down rises and she shakes her head, her slender ears tipping back. "Not yet, no. You have quite the herd and, well," she chuckled softly, not wanting to admit her own self-doubt. "I didn't want to accidentally make a bad impression, but Lady Medusa has made me feel quite welcome though. " Eager to turn the conversation from herself, she instead turns her luminous gaze onto Ironclad once more. "Enough about me though, how are you, my King?"