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Alorha hadn’t actually realized how much she was talking until a small pause settled in the room and she heard the echo of her own voice fade against the quiet walls. Normally that realization would have made her stop immediately—she had been told often enough growing up that she could be too chatty when she got comfortable—but tonight the words had just… kept slipping out before she could catch them. Maybe it was the long meeting, or the way her head still buzzed with unfamiliar responsibilities, or maybe it was simply the relief of being somewhere quieter again. Whatever the reason, the soft back-and-forth of conversation filled the room in a way she found unexpectedly comforting, and she noticed with quiet relief that Sage didn’t seem bothered by it at all. When he nodded toward the wardrobe and explained that the few formal outfits hanging there were all he had been given before, she followed the motion of his head and glanced at the neatly arranged garments. Her brows pulled together slightly as she studied them. The more she looked at them, the more she realized how… impractical they actually were. Decorative, structured, made to look proper beside a queen, but not the sort of clothing someone could live in comfortably for long journeys or cold climates. As Sage spoke about the previous trip—about being kept close for a source of warmth—Alorha’s expression shifted in a way that was hard to fully read. She didn’t interrupt him, but a quiet sort of displeasure settled somewhere behind her eyes. “That’s… ridiculous,” she said after a moment, her tone softer than angry but still carrying a clear note of disbelief. He been made so dependant on these people. She leaned back slightly where she sat on the edge of the bed, folding her hands loosely in her lap as she considered it. “You’re a person,” The words came out before she really thought about how blunt they sounded, and she blinked once as if realizing it belatedly. “I mean—well. Obviously you’re more useful than that.” She gave a small, slightly embarrassed huff of breath and waved one hand vaguely, trying to untangle her own phrasing. “You know what I mean.” Her attention shifted again as he spoke about the northern kingdom, and she listened carefully this time instead of filling the silence right away. The way he described it helped her picture things much more clearly than the council’s layered explanations had earlier. Nearly the same size as their own kingdom. Large population. Important allies. The information arranged itself neatly in her mind when he said it plainly like that, and she found herself nodding slowly as she absorbed it. “That makes sense,” she murmured thoughtfully. “They kept emphasizing how important that relationship is, but no one actually said why in simple terms.” Her fingers absently smoothed a wrinkle in the blanket beside her as she thought it through. “If they’re that large, then keeping things friendly probably matters quite a lot.” When he laughed softly at her questions about the snow, she felt a faint warmth creep up the back of her neck, though she couldn’t help smiling a little too. She knew some of her questions probably sounded childish once they were spoken aloud, but if she didn’t ask them she would never understand the answers. She tilted her head slightly as he explained about clearing the roads, imagining long paths carved through high walls of snow. “So the roads become little corridors,” she said slowly, picturing it. “Snow on both sides and a narrow path through the middle.” Her eyes brightened faintly with curiosity. “I suppose that must look beautiful, in its own way.” His comment about the nobles made her let out a quiet laugh, though it carried a hint of rueful understanding. She had noticed the same thing during the meeting—the careful wording, the subtle posturing, the way some of them seemed to compete for who could sound the most impressive while speaking. “They definitely like to show off,” she agreed, her nose wrinkling slightly in a very similar expression to his. “Sometimes I feel like they’re speaking an entirely different language just to prove they can.” She paused, considering his point, and then nodded slowly. “But… you’re probably right. If they were speaking to me like I was a child it would be much worse.” She fell quiet for a moment when he confirmed the warmer clothes were helping, and a small, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. That had been the main thing she worried about when she brought them back, and hearing that simple confirmation eased something in her chest she hadn’t realized was tight. “Good,” she said softly. “That’s what I hoped.” When he mentioned that stranger responsibilities would come later, she let out a long breath that turned into a quiet laugh, her shoulders relaxing slightly as the tension of the day finally began to loosen. “That’s… both reassuring and slightly terrifying,” she admitted. The idea that this was only the beginning of the strange tasks expected of a queen made her head spin a little, though she supposed she would eventually learn how to manage them. But it was his last comment that made her blink in surprise. “The servants?” she repeated, turning her head to look at him more fully. There was genuine curiosity in her expression now. “They do?” She hadn’t really considered that before. Most of them were polite and respectful when they crossed paths with her, but she had assumed that was simply because it was expected. The thought that they might actually like her was… new. “I hope that’s true,” she said after a moment, her voice quieter now, more thoughtful. “They’re the ones who actually keep everything running, aren’t they?” Her gaze drifted briefly toward the door as if picturing the endless halls and rooms beyond it. “If they’re comfortable around me, that probably means I’m not doing too badly.” Then she looked back at him again, a small smile returning. |
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Sage had hummed softly in agreement with her mention of the way things had been done were rediculous, nodding along. "Te few servants there weren't the main concern," he noted simply. "They knew if we wanted to escape, a long journey would be the time to do that....so they took precautions," he added lifting his shoulders in a loose shrug. The queen especially had taken great care to keep him at her side. They hadn't been outside too often, but it was still cold. Though, when she thought out loud about how the roads worked, he cocked his head slightly, thinking. "In a way," he agreed. "There was only a few feet of snow on each side when we were there before, but I'm sure it's constantly changing," he mused. He really wasn't sure how often it snowed or how they dealt with it when the snow piles got too high. It would be dangerous after a certain point, wouldn't it? He wasn't certain, and he was in no position to ask anyone. He chuckled softly as she complained about the nobles, nodding on agreement, before offering her a small smile when she said she'd hoped the new clothes would work better for him. "I'll still need to dress up if I leave the room....but they're nice for in here," he noted lightly, glad to get pants back rather than whatever they had in him otherwise. His smile widened slightly when the other tasks were mentioned, and he just shook his head. "Oh, there's nothing too bad. Some traditions are just a little odd sometimes," he mused. A few ceremonies like Christmas and other holidays that were just a big spectacle could get a bit rediculous. But it was nothing she'd need to worry much about, outside of saying a few words here and there. When she mentioned the servants, he hummed softly with a nod before he let himself slide down a little bit on the bed, propping himself up on an arm. "They see things. Hear things." He let out a soft breath. "They've taken notice of how you treat me. How you curtsied back when they first saw you. Those things don't go unnoticed around here." Maybe it sounded a bit cheesy, but it was true. She had defended him, given him a lifeline that didn't expect that entire life in return. That was new for most of them, and they were glad to see it. He let himself roll over onto his back with a yawn though, starting to drift off again. He did make the attempt to stay awake, but by then the evening was starting to wind up, and he was tired. He'd finished the soup, so he wasn't particularly hungry or anything...an early bedtime may prove to be useful. He still felt like he needed to be back in his feet tomorrow. |
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Alorha listened carefully as Sage explained the reasoning behind the precautions during past journeys, and though she kept her expression light, there was a thoughtful seriousness in her eyes as she absorbed the explanation. She hadn’t actually considered the possibility of escape being something the previous queen worried about so heavily, but once he said it aloud the logic of it was difficult to deny. Long journeys meant distance from the palace, unfamiliar roads, fewer guards watching every movement. Of course someone cautious—or paranoid—would tighten their control in those situations. Still, the idea of deliberately keeping someone close simply to use them as a source of warmth made her wrinkle her nose faintly. “I suppose that makes sense from a strategic perspective,” she admitted after a moment, though the faintly amused disbelief hadn’t quite left her voice. “But it still sounds terribly uncomfortable. For both of you, honestly. Traveling is already tiring without adding… that kind of strategy to it.” She leaned one elbow lightly against the mattress as she spoke, her posture relaxed now that the long day was finally winding down. “At least this time we can plan properly. Warm coats, sensible routes, no relying on people as portable fireplaces.” Her smile returned easily as the conversation drifted back to the northern roads and the snow. She tried to picture the narrow cleared paths he described, imagining wagons rolling slowly between tall ridges of packed white snow while people hurried along bundled in thick coats. “A few feet already sounds like a lot,” she said with a small laugh. “If it kept falling all winter I’d worry the entire kingdom would just disappear under it.” Her mind lingered on the image a moment longer before she shook her head slightly. “I think I’d like to see it, though. Not necessarily travel through it constantly, but… just once. It sounds peaceful in a strange way.” When he mentioned still needing to dress formally outside the room, she nodded in understanding. That much she had already begun to realize herself. Appearances mattered in the palace more than she would ever fully understand. “Well, at least in here you can be comfortable,” she replied easily. “The palace has enough rules already. I think a bedroom can survive without strict dress codes.” There was a playful hint to her tone, though she had a feeling some of the more traditional nobles might faint if they heard her say that aloud. As he spoke about odd traditions and ceremonies, she listened with growing curiosity rather than worry. The way he described them made them sound less like looming burdens and more like strange little rituals that everyone simply accepted as part of palace life. “I suppose every place has those,” she mused. “Strange traditions that everyone follows just because they always have.” Her smile brightened slightly. “At least ceremonies are predictable. Stand in the right place, say the right words, try not to trip over anything important.” But when he began explaining the servants’ perspective—how they noticed things, how small actions carried meaning—the lightness in her expression softened into something quieter. She hadn’t realized people were paying attention that closely. In her mind she had simply been acting the way that felt natural at the time: returning a curtsy because it seemed polite, speaking to Sage normally because… well, because he was a person. Hearing that those things had been noticed made her feel oddly self-conscious and pleased at the same time. “I didn’t realize anyone would pay attention to something like that,” she said thoughtfully, glancing toward the floor for a moment before looking back at him again. “I just… did what felt right.” There was something comforting about the idea that those small choices mattered, though. It made the enormous palace feel slightly less distant, less like a place where every action disappeared into a sea of expectations. She noticed him shifting on the bed then, his movements slower now, the beginnings of fatigue clearly settling in. When he stretched out with a yawn, her voice instinctively softened, the lively rhythm of the conversation easing into something calmer. She kept talking for another moment or two—almost out of habit—before gradually realizing that his eyes were starting to close. Her words slowed, then faded altogether. For a little while she simply sat there, watching quietly as his breathing evened out and the tension left his shoulders. The room had grown much calmer now that the constant stream of conversation had ended, the soft evening quiet settling around them. Alorha’s gaze drifted slowly toward the window. In the silence, her thoughts wandered somewhere else entirely. She had never imagined any of this for herself. Not the council meetings, not the political alliances, not the weight of decisions that affected entire kingdoms. Growing up, she had pictured something much smaller and gentler for her future. Long afternoons in quiet gardens, dirt beneath her fingernails as she worked among the flowers. Shelves full of books and slow evenings spent reading them one after another, losing track of time entirely. Those had been the things that made her happy—simple, peaceful moments that didn’t require anyone to look to her for answers. Now entire rooms full of nobles expected her to know what she was doing. The thought made her let out a soft breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She glanced back toward Sage again, making sure he was comfortable beneath the blanket before letting her gaze drop to her hands in her lap. The truth, if she was being completely honest with herself, was that she felt unbelievably unprepared for the life she had somehow stepped into. Every meeting felt like trying to solve a puzzle where half the pieces were missing. Every conversation with the council reminded her that everyone else seemed to understand rules she was still trying to learn. She had never expected to become queen. Not even in the most distant, unlikely version of her future. Yet somehow here she was—planning journeys across kingdoms, organizing winter clothing, trying to lead a palace full of people who had lived their entire lives within systems she barely understood. After a moment, though, the faintest smile returned to her face as she looked back at Sage again. Even if she didn’t know what she was doing yet… she was trying. And, at least for tonight, that felt like enough. |
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Sage had hummed in agreement to her mention of the last trip being uncomfortable...he wasn't too sure what the queen had thought, but he wasn't thrilled with needing to be pressed up against her if he wanted some bit of warmth. It pretty well took any positive feeling about the trip and tossed them into the snow somewhere. But as she talked about wanting to see it, and how she imagined the snow would just cover the city, he couldn't help but laugh softly. "It is curious, how they manage to do it," he admitted. He wasn't sure what they did, or how they handled that sort of thing. But the snow was pretty, he supposed, the endless white stretching for miles and miles of fields. He much preferred the warmth of a place like his home island, or even this palace in the summer over the cold of the winter or the northern kingdoms, but he could admit that the snow was enjoyable for the small bit of time when they visited. He'd never gotten to play in it, of course, but he'd seen the village children make snowballs and throw them at each other and go sledding over the hills. It seemed like it could be a fun thing to have, of you had the right clothes and equipment alongside the freedom to go out and do.... whatever you wanted, within reason, he supposed. He'd started to wear down though, by then, so her comments about the ceremonies only pulled a nod of agreement from him. He did try to pay more attention to her response about the servants, offering her a small smile. "Just shows you're a good person," he noted quietly. "The servents see that." It was good too, because the servants would have definitely not done the same sort of things to help like they had today - like bringing lunch and such - if they didn't like her. He didn't quite mean to fall asleep while she was talking, but he body shut down eventually, the girls voice carrying some form of calming affect as she continued speaking. It was odd, to know that he could fall asleep before she was ready for bed, and she wouldn't mind at all. If that had happened before, he would've been punished heavily. He supposed they'd all gotten lucky, gaining someone with the heart that Alorha brought to the kingdom. Maybe some things would change for the better. Well ...they already had, really. But maybe the nobles would adapt to her way of rule. Be kinder. That sort of thing. He slept deeply, not even stirring once Alorha had slipped into the bed later that evening. When he woke at dawn though, he felt much better than he had the night before. He wasn't a hundred percent yet, he didn't think, but he felt good enough to get up and get ready, before moving down to the kitchen to grab breakfast for Alorha. Well, both of them really since she shared it with him, but technically it was supposed to be hers. He decided not to dwell on that too much as he moved back to the room, setting the food on the table before shifting to crawl back under the covers, but sitting up and leaning against the headboard. He'd decided to grab a pencil and bit of parchment, and just sketch out something quick. He'd never really been able to explore any hobbies, but he did like to draw and paint and such. Alorha didn't seem like the type to care if he did so, so he decided he may as well enjoy the morning while it lasted. |
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Alorha listened to Sage’s quiet agreement about the previous trip, her expression softening a little as she pictured what he was describing. The more she learned about how things had been handled before, the more she found herself quietly baffled by it all. Not angry exactly—at least not in a loud way—but puzzled by the logic of it. It felt so unnecessarily uncomfortable for everyone involved. She leaned back slightly against the bedpost as she listened, arms loosely folded as if trying to imagine the strange arrangement he described. “Well,” she said after a moment, her voice light but thoughtful, “I think we can safely say that won’t be part of the travel plan this time.” A small grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. “I would much rather solve the cold problem with coats and blankets instead of… that.” When he laughed softly at her exaggerated idea of the city disappearing under snow, she couldn’t help smiling wider. She had always liked the way imagination made unfamiliar places feel a little more real. The image of endless white fields stretching out in every direction lingered pleasantly in her mind. “It still sounds beautiful,” she said, resting her chin briefly in one hand as she thought about it. “Cold, yes, but beautiful. I’ve only ever seen light snow before. Just a thin layer across the garden paths that melts before midday.” Her eyes brightened slightly as she pictured something larger. “Fields covered in it for miles must look like an entirely different world.” She noticed the way his responses were growing quieter as the conversation drifted on, his energy slowly fading as the illness and the long day caught up with him. Even so, when he spoke about the servants noticing her actions, his words landed gently but firmly in her thoughts. She blinked slightly at the simple statement that she was a good person, a faint flush of embarrassment warming her cheeks. “I hope so,” she said softly, her voice more thoughtful now. “I’d hate to become the sort of queen people only tolerate.” She didn’t realize right away that Sage had drifted off. For a little while she continued speaking in the same relaxed tone, idly commenting on small things—how the northern journey might be planned, whether the council would argue about the routes again, how strange it still felt to think of traveling across multiple kingdoms as part of her everyday responsibilities. It was only when she paused for a reply that never came that she noticed the quiet change in the room. Her gaze shifted back toward him. He was asleep. For a moment she simply watched him, the last of her cheerful energy fading into a calmer silence. His breathing had settled into an even rhythm, the tension gone from his face in a way she hadn’t seen earlier that day. Seeing him finally resting made something in her chest loosen a little. He had clearly needed the sleep. The room felt different now without the conversation filling it. Alorha leaned back slightly against the bed, letting the quiet stretch around her. Without the distraction of talking, her mind wandered again—this time further back, to the life she had once imagined for herself. She had never dreamed of crowns or councils or traveling between kingdoms to negotiate alliances. If anyone had asked her years ago what she wanted her future to look like, the answer would have been embarrassingly simple. She would have said she wanted a small house somewhere with a wide garden. Somewhere peaceful. Somewhere she could spend long afternoons kneeling in the dirt tending flowers or herbs, the air warm and quiet around her. When she wasn’t outside, she would be inside near a window with a stack of books tall enough to last the entire season, reading slowly and losing herself in stories without worrying about who might need her to make a decision about trade routes or diplomacy. That had always been enough for her. The life she was living now felt so unbelievably far away from that quiet dream that sometimes it still surprised her when she remembered it was real. Every day since becoming queen had been a constant lesson in things she had never expected to learn—politics, traditions, responsibilities that stretched far beyond the palace walls. The council spoke as if she should already understand it all, but the truth was she felt like she was piecing together an entirely new world one small conversation at a time. She was so very unprepared for it. The thought didn’t make her panic the way it might have earlier, but it did leave her sitting quietly for a while, fingers loosely intertwined in her lap as she stared toward the window. She wondered, not for the first time, how long it would take before she truly felt like she belonged in this role instead of simply trying her best not to fall behind. Eventually the evening grew late enough that her eyes began to grow heavy too. Careful not to wake Sage, she moved quietly around the room to prepare for bed, dimming the lights and slipping beneath the blankets with gentle, practiced movements. He didn’t stir at all, still deeply asleep beside her. The morning light had begun to spill gently across the room by the time Alorha finally stirred properly. At first it was only a faint awareness of warmth against her face and the soft rustle of paper somewhere nearby. Her mind floated in that quiet space between sleep and waking, where thoughts moved slowly and the world still felt distant and gentle. For a few moments she simply lay there beneath the blankets, half-curled into the pillows, enjoying the calm before her responsibilities returned to claim the day. When her eyes opened again more fully, the first thing she noticed was that Sage was already awake. She watched him quietly for a moment before saying anything. The soft morning light from the window fell across the bed and the small table beside it, catching the edge of the parchment in his hands and the careful movement of the pencil as it moved across the page. The sound was faint—just the quiet scratch of graphite—but in the peaceful silence of the room it felt strangely soothing. A small, sleepy smile tugged at her lips. “Good morning,” she murmured softly, her voice still warm with sleep. She shifted a little under the blankets as she pushed herself upright, brushing loose strands of hair back from her face. Her eyes drifted immediately toward the table nearby, and when she noticed the tray of food sitting there her eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. “You went to the kitchen already?” she asked, glancing between the food and Sage with quiet curiosity. The realization slowly settled in, and her smile grew a little wider. “You didn’t have to do that.” There was no scolding in her tone, only a faint mix of gratitude and amusement. She slipped one hand from the blankets and rubbed at her eyes briefly before stretching her arms above her head in a slow, unguarded motion that made it very clear she had only just woken up. “You’re supposed to be resting,” she added lightly, though the gentle warmth in her voice softened the words. Her gaze drifted back to the parchment in his hands then, curiosity quickly taking over. “What are you drawing?” Without waiting for a full answer, she leaned slightly toward him from where she sat, trying to catch a glimpse of the sketch. Her expression brightened with genuine interest; there was something about creative things—drawing, painting, anything made by hand—that always caught her attention. “I didn’t know you liked to draw,” she said, sounding quietly delighted by the discovery. “That’s a nice way to spend a morning. What else do you enjoy?" She asked with a cocked head. The room still carried that early calm that came before the palace truly woke. Somewhere far down the corridor a faint door closed, and distant footsteps echoed briefly before fading again. Otherwise everything remained peaceful, the kind of rare quiet that only existed in large places during the early hours. Alorha pulled the blanket a little tighter around her shoulders as she sat there beside him, still not quite ready to leave the warmth of the bed. “I like mornings like this,” she admitted after a moment, her voice softer now as she glanced toward the window where pale sunlight washed over the garden outside. “When everything is still quiet for a little while.” She let out a small breath that almost sounded like contentment. “For a moment it almost feels like the palace forgets it’s busy.” Then she looked back toward the table again, her attention returning to the tray of breakfast Sage had brought up. “You should eat too,” she said, reaching out to pull the tray a little closer across the table. “Especially if you’re feeling better today.” Her eyes flicked over him briefly, assessing him in that gentle, quietly concerned way she seemed to have developed. “You do look better.” She reached for one of the cups, taking a small sip before settling more comfortably against the headboard beside him, still peeking curiously toward the drawing whenever the pencil moved again. It was a simple, peaceful start to the day—something she found herself appreciating far more than she might have a week ago. For now, at least, the responsibilities waiting outside the room could remain there just a little longer. |
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Sage wasn't sure how much time had passed between him settling in again and Alorha waking up, but when he heard her hum good morning, he glanced over in her direction with a light hum. "Morning," he noted quietly, not quite wanting the stillness of the morning to be interrupted at all by his voice. When she mentioned the food, and that he should be resting, he short of waved off her concern with a small chuckle. "I feel more or less back to normal," he noted. "Woke up and figured I'd get something done," he added with a sort of a shrug. He'd laid around for long enough, if he felt decent he was going to get back to work. Besides, going this early meant he avoided almost everyone else, since most of them were still asleep. He preferred that. A vague expression of surprised passed his face when she asked what he was drawing, clearly interested in it. He wasn't entirely sure why, but he didn't mind at all, so he tilted the paper so she could see it better as she leaned in. "My sister," he noted. "Liz." The girl in the picture was still young, about six or so, and grinning widely in response to something. He didn't remember what had been said, but he did remember her face. "She'd be almost twelve now," he mused after a moment or so, moving to get back to work on the sketch. He hadn't seen her since he'd been taken here, but drawing her seemed to help, even if the thought of her brought a pang to his chest. It was pretty clear they were related though ....they shared a lot of the same facial features, and they had the same hair and eyes. They took after their mother, obviously, since they never had looked much like their father. He was glad of that, if he was being honest. But never knowing his mother was a little odd too, knowing he looked a lot like her. Oh well. He shook his head when she asked what else he liked to do, not entirely sure. "Don't know," he admitted. "I never had much time for hobbies or anything," he pointed out with a lift of one shoulder. "I've only figured out the drawing and painting because at the end of the day is draw in the dirt on my skin after the fields, and use the mud to pain on the walls of the hut," he explained. "Other than that, I haven't explored much." He nodded when she mentioned he'd need to eat, humming in agreement. "I will in a bit," he noted, clearly focused on what he was doing. Leaving a partly unfinished drawing just laying around seemed odd to him...he'd prefer to just finish it. He was nearly done anyway....the graphite mimicing a black and white photo of the much younger girl. It looked pretty good, he thought. Though he was a bit out of practice, so maybe he was just going easy on himself. |
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Alorha had been watching him with quiet interest ever since she woke, still wrapped comfortably in the warmth of the blankets while the early light crept further into the room. The peaceful stillness of the morning lingered around them, the kind of gentle quiet that made it feel as though the rest of the palace hadn’t quite woken up yet. When Sage answered her greeting in the same soft tone, she smiled faintly, pleased that he seemed to share the same instinct not to break the calm too loudly. Her eyes drifted again toward the tray of food as he waved off her concern, and she gave a small, thoughtful hum at his explanation. He did look better—far better than the night before—and the steadiness in the way he was sitting made that clear enough. Even so, she tilted her head slightly, studying him with that same careful attention she always seemed to give things she worried about. “Well… if you truly feel better,” she said slowly, though the faint note of caution remained in her voice, “I suppose I won’t argue too much.” A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she pulled the blanket a little closer around her shoulders. “But if you suddenly collapse halfway through the day I will absolutely say I told you so.” There was a bit of playful seriousness in the warning, though she clearly wasn’t trying to stop him from moving around. Her curiosity had already returned to the parchment in his hands anyway, and when he tilted it so she could see, she leaned slightly closer without even thinking about it. The moment he explained who the girl in the drawing was, her expression softened. “Oh,” she said quietly. She looked at the picture more carefully now, her eyes tracing the lines of the sketch as if trying to piece together the personality behind it. Even unfinished, the girl’s grin felt lively and genuine, the kind of smile that made it seem like she had just laughed at something silly. Alorha couldn’t help smiling a little in response to it. “She looks very happy,” she murmured gently. When Sage mentioned how old she would be now, Alorha nodded slowly, though something thoughtful crept into her expression. Twelve. That meant several years had passed since he had last seen her. Her gaze lingered on the drawing for a moment longer, and when she finally spoke again her tone had softened even more. “I… hope she’s doing well,” she said carefully. She didn’t ask directly if Liz was safe, or where she was, or whether Sage knew anything about her life now. Something in the way he had spoken made Alorha hesitate, and she didn’t want to press a question that might have no comforting answer. Instead she simply watched the pencil move across the page again, letting the quiet fill the space between them. After a moment she leaned back slightly, glancing between the portrait and Sage himself. The resemblance was becoming more obvious the longer she looked. “You do look alike,” she said with a faint smile. “The eyes especially.” As he explained how he had first discovered drawing—sketching shapes in the dirt after working in the fields, using mud to paint against the walls—her expression shifted again, this time into something more thoughtful. It wasn’t pity exactly, but the quiet understanding that the circumstances he described weren’t the sort that usually gave people time to explore things they enjoyed. Still, she didn’t interrupt him. Instead she nodded slowly, her gaze returning to the drawing with a little more appreciation than before. “Well,” she said after a moment, her voice warming again, “I’m very glad you kept doing it.” Her eyes flicked briefly toward him with genuine encouragement. “You’re really good at it.” She reached forward to pull the breakfast tray a little closer between them, rearranging the plates absently while still glancing back toward the parchment every so often as the sketch slowly took shape. “You know,” she added thoughtfully, brushing a stray crumb from the table with one fingertip, “if you enjoy drawing and painting, there’s no reason you couldn’t do more of it.” Her expression brightened faintly as the idea formed. “The palace has entire rooms filled with supplies—paints, parchment, brushes. I’ve stumbled across them while wandering around.” A small, slightly sheepish smile crossed her face at that. “I get lost a lot,” she admitted lightly. Her gaze returned once again to the picture of Liz, clearly impressed by how lifelike it looked even as Sage finished the final details. “You should keep drawing,” she said simply. “Especially if it helps you remember the people you care about.” She reached for a piece of bread then, breaking off a small bit as she continued watching the pencil move across the page. “And once you’re finished,” she added, glancing meaningfully toward the tray of food, “you are absolutely eating something.” The gentle firmness in her voice made it clear she meant it, though the warm smile on her face softened the command. For a little while after that she simply sat there beside him, quietly enjoying the simple calm of the moment—the early morning light spilling across the room, the faint scratch of pencil against parchment, and the peaceful feeling of a day that hadn’t yet begun to rush. |
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A small smile flickered across sages face when she agreed she wouldnt argue too much about him getting back up and about. "Good," he noted with a vague tone of amusement in his voice. "Because when I do decide to argue I can be very stubborn," he added, clearly joking around. If she really wanted him to eat he would, but he was glad she was confident enough tj listen to him and agree. He nodded when she mentioned he and his sister looked alike, chuckling softly. "People thought we were twins for a while," he mused. "Despite the age gap." He'd never really understood that since he was a decent bit older than her, but they did look very similar. "We take after our mother I guess, though we never actually met her more than once or twice," he noted with a kind of shrug. His pencil stilled slightly when she said she hoped Liz was alright before he nodded slowly. "Me too," he noted softly, before resuming his movements. "Dad always liked her better.... hopefully she fared better than me," he hummed in thought. At her mention of the other rooms with supplies in them, he looked back up at her in surprise. "Really," he noted. "You'd let me set something up in here?" He hadn't had that thought until now....hadn't realized that was even an option or that there were supplies laying around. But, it would be nice. Though, when food was brought up again he couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm almost done," he promised, voice laced with quiet amusement as he returned to his methodical stroke of the pencil. It took his maybe another fifteen minutes or so before he set the pencil and paper down and moved to pick at some of the fruit off of the platter. (Shorter, I'm busy today lol) |
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Alorha’s sleepy smile widened slightly when Sage joked about being stubborn, and she leaned back a little more comfortably against the headboard, the blanket still gathered loosely around her shoulders. The morning light had grown brighter by now, washing the room in a warm glow that made everything feel softer and calmer than it had the day before. His teasing tone drew a quiet laugh from her, the sound light and easy in the quiet room. “Oh, I believe that,” she replied with playful certainty, her eyes glinting with amusement. “You strike me as exactly the kind of person who would argue a point long after everyone else gave up.” She tilted her head slightly, studying him with a mock thoughtful expression before adding with a small grin, “Though I suspect I can be fairly stubborn myself when I decide something matters.” There was no tension in the exchange at all, only the comfortable rhythm of two people talking in a peaceful moment before the day began demanding their attention. She watched him continue working on the sketch as they spoke, clearly fascinated by the steady movements of his pencil across the parchment. When he mentioned people mistaking him and Liz for twins, Alorha’s eyebrows lifted in mild surprise before she laughed softly. She glanced again at the drawing, then back at his face, comparing the two with open curiosity. “I can see why they thought that,” she said thoughtfully. “The resemblance is very clear.” Her gaze softened slightly when he mentioned their mother, and she nodded in quiet understanding. “It must be strange to look so much like someone you barely knew,” she added gently, not in a sad tone but in a thoughtful one, as though she were simply considering the idea. Her eyes drifted back to the drawing as his pencil paused when she mentioned hoping Liz was alright. The slight stillness in his hand didn’t escape her notice, and though she kept her expression warm and encouraging, she didn’t press the subject further. When he finally spoke again, she gave a small nod."I hope so too,” she said quietly. “Wherever she is.” The conversation didn’t linger on the heavier thought for long, though. Alorha had a natural way of letting moments pass without letting them weigh down the room, and before long her attention brightened again when Sage looked up in surprise at her mention of the palace supplies. “Of course,” she said immediately, sounding almost confused that he thought it might not be allowed. “Why wouldn’t I?” She shifted slightly on the bed, turning toward him more fully now, clearly warming to the idea as she spoke. “If there are empty rooms full of paints and parchment just sitting there, someone should actually use them. Otherwise it’s a terrible waste.” Her eyes sparkled faintly with enthusiasm. “And this room is ours for the journey anyway, so I don’t see any reason you couldn’t keep some things here.” She paused, then added with a small, cheerful shrug, “Besides, it would make the room feel more interesting than just… walls and furniture.” When he promised he was almost finished and returned to carefully completing the sketch, Alorha didn’t interrupt him again. Instead she turned her attention to the breakfast tray, nibbling absentmindedly at a piece of bread while occasionally glancing back toward the parchment to see the drawing take its final shape. The quiet scratch of pencil across paper filled the room again, and she found herself enjoying the calm rhythm of it. By the time Sage finally set the pencil down and reached for some fruit, nearly fifteen minutes had passed in peaceful silence. Alorha noticed the movement immediately and looked over with a satisfied little nod. “Good,” she said warmly. “You did say you would eat.” She reached for a cup and took another small sip, then leaned back again with a contented sigh, clearly enjoying the rare slow morning. After a moment her curiosity returned, and she glanced toward him again with an upbeat expression. “So,” she said brightly, brushing a stray crumb from the blanket in her lap, “what’s planned for today?” Her tone carried genuine interest rather than worry, as if she were approaching the day like something to explore rather than something to survive. “I know there’s always something happening in this palace,” she continued, her smile widening slightly. “But I haven’t actually checked the schedule yet.” She tilted her head thoughtfully, eyes drifting toward the window where the gardens were visible in the distance. She looked back at him again then, clearly curious about what he might already know. “Do you think the council will drag me into another meeting immediately,” she asked with a playful sigh, “or do we get a little breathing room first?” |
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Sage felt a grin cross his face when she mentioned that he seemed like he could be stubborn. "Oh, you have no idea," he noted with a chuckle. "If I put my mind to it, that is," he added, fairly amused at the whole situation. Of course, enough habits were still drilled into his mind that he would never actively argue against authority....but if there was really something wrong or whatever, he thought he could maybe he would be able to argue with Alorha. When she mentioned his mother, he nodded, a hum of thought rising in his throat. "I suppose so," he noted. "I guess I've never thought about it too much ...I was just glad I don't look like my father much," he admitted. He never had liked the guy much, for pretty good reasons. He supposed he never really wanted to meet his mother either ....she'd walked out on them and left them with their father, after all. That's not exactly the sort of thing someone who cared about them would have done, so he felt no need to wish for her affection. He cocked his head in thought while she mentioned it was of no good to have supplies that weren't being used. "I suppose you're right," he admitted. "I guess I just never thought about it, or was willing to ask," he noted after a moment or so, tossing another bit of fruit into his mouth as he thought. It would be nice to have a bit of room to be able to do whatever he wanted with. As she asked about meetings, he shook his head with a chuckle. "Nothing until after dinner today," he chirped. They had time to do other things....maybe explore the palace with her if she wanted, or just relax for the day until they had to go to the council meeting. He didn't really mind. He did feel better, so he was up for pretty much anything. |
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Partly Cloudy with Afternoon Drizzle
