[Mahalia knows there are people here that have a wide variety of abilities, but this is the first time she's witnessed someone flying, and she is distracted by it for a moment. Her godfather was bird-souled, but tethered to the ground, a necessary sacrifice in order for him to read prophecy in the skies. The closest he came to flying was to travel the winds. She wonder how he would feel, meeting this woman. But he isn't here, and Mahalia must remember that, painful as it is. She dips into a curtsey in greeting.]

You, as well.

[She smiles, a little. It isn't the first time someone's called her a princess, but it's usually a nickname, a play on her mannerisms and reactions.]

That's, ah, very nice of you to say, thank you. I'm sure there are real princesses here.

[She lifts the bag off her shoulder, a woven beach bag, multicoloured. Ten hardback books in it, poems from various languages, but the text seemed to translate itself, here.]

I brought all the books I could remember. I hope you enjoy them.