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Alorha had watched the butterfly for nearly as long as Sage had, though her attention had drifted just as often to his expression as it had to the small creature perched on his finger. The quiet wonder in his face was impossible to miss, the sort of genuine fascination that people rarely showed over something so small. She followed beside him slowly as he walked along the hedges, careful not to disturb the butterfly that had decided to travel with them, and allowed her gaze to wander across the gardens around them. The paths curved neatly between beds of flowers that seemed almost too perfect to be real, bright petals layered in carefully arranged colors while bees and insects drifted lazily between them. The entire place felt cultivated and deliberate, yet still alive in a way that made it feel less rigid than the stone walls of the castle behind them. When Sage mentioned that coming outside had been a good idea, she smiled faintly at the quiet approval in his voice. “I thought you might like it,” she replied gently, her tone thoughtful rather than teasing. The gardens were calm in a way the castle rarely was. There were no judging glances here, no watchful servants or whispering nobles. Only sunlight, grass, and the soft hum of life moving through the flowers. As they continued walking, she let him set the pace, stopping occasionally when he slowed to watch some small movement among the plants. It reminded her how little of the outside world he had likely experienced in places like this. Eventually the garden paths began to change, the flowering beds giving way to rows of glass structures set slightly apart from the main lawns. The greenhouses rose in gentle arches of metal and glass, their panes catching the sunlight so that the entire structure seemed to glow faintly against the greenery around it. Alorha slowed as they approached, studying them with mild curiosity. She had seen greenhouses before, though never ones quite this large. Sage gently transferred the butterfly to a nearby flower before they reached the door, and she watched quietly as the small creature settled into the petals. The moment felt oddly peaceful, the sort of tiny interaction that most people would overlook entirely. When he finally glanced back at her, checking if she was ready, she nodded once and stepped forward beside him. The greenhouse door creaked softly as it opened. A wave of warm air met them immediately as they stepped inside, thicker and more humid than the fresh breeze outside. Alorha paused just past the threshold, letting her eyes adjust to the slightly diffused light filtering through the glass panels above. Rows of plants stretched neatly along wooden tables and raised beds, their leaves vibrant and deep green beneath the filtered sunlight. The air smelled different here—stronger, richer, filled with the mingling scents of crushed leaves, damp soil, and sharp herbal oils that clung faintly to the air. She moved slowly between the rows, her fingers brushing lightly along the edge of one of the wooden tables as she studied the plants growing there. Many of them she recognized vaguely from kitchens or apothecaries—bundles of thin leaves, small clustered stems, plants with tiny flowers tucked between their greenery. Others were completely unfamiliar. “These are medicinal herbs,” she said after a moment, glancing back toward Sage. “Most castles grow them somewhere. For salves, teas… things the healers use.” Her eyes drifted again across the rows, noting the careful spacing and the labels tucked into the soil beside some of the plants. Someone clearly tended this place regularly. Nothing looked neglected. The warmth inside the greenhouse made the scent of the herbs even stronger as they walked deeper into the structure. Alorha paused beside one of the plants and leaned slightly closer, rubbing a small leaf gently between her fingers before lifting it to her nose. The smell was sharp and earthy. “It reminds me of my old room,” she admitted after a moment, glancing toward Sage again with a faint smile. “I used to grow beans in a little pot beside the window.” Her tone carried a hint of amusement at the memory. “Not very impressive compared to this, but it worked. They climbed strings I tied up to the wall. I think I grew them three times before someone finally asked why there was a garden inside.” Her gaze drifted around the greenhouse again, taking in the rows of carefully cultivated plants. “This is a little more organized than my version,” she added lightly. She continued walking slowly between the tables after that, curiosity pulling her attention from plant to plant as she studied the shapes of the leaves and the tiny flowers tucked between them. The greenhouse felt quieter than the gardens outside, the thick glass walls muting the breeze and distant sounds so that only the faint rustle of leaves and the soft creak of wooden frames could be heard. For the first time since stepping into the castle, Alorha felt like they had found a place that wasn’t built for nobles or politics or ceremony. Just for growing things. |
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Sage had hummed softly in agreement to Alorha's comment about him liking the gardens, peering at the plants around them with a soft smile. "It's like a whole new world out here," he mused, mind clearly working as he took in each and every detail he could see or hear. He had even taken to brushing his free hand along the leaves and petals of the plants and stone walls around them, to feel it all too. This was something he wanted to commit to memory - he felt free out here, in a way he didn't in the castle. Their room was a safe space, of course, but being outside in the fresh air and under the clear sky was a whole other thing entirely. The greenhouses were interesting too, and he rather liked the heat that they came with. He got cold rather easy, and the clothes he often had to wear didn't help very much. So, the steam-like environment felt nice. He felt himself relaxing as they wandered along - he wasn't cold prior to this, but he wasn't warm either, and in here he was very warm. He found it to be quite nice. He had a feeling he would be visiting the garden and greenhouses very often. He knew Alorha would t mind him coming out here either - in fact she'd likely come with him a lot of the time. But he also wanted to find a nice quiet corner out here he could have to himself. Their room was great, and he really liked Alorha, of course, but somewhere he could just relax in the quiet of nature would be nice too. Maybe he could bring his art stuff out here and draw or paint in the sunlight. He thought that would be lovely. He was drawn from his thoughts when Alorha spoke up about her own home, chuckling softly in amusement when she mentioned her makeshift garden in her room. "You could have picked a smaller plant to grow in there," he teased gently, though he did like the look of the viney plants. He also took that she liked them into consideration - he was already planning something for their room that would be similar to what she had before. He knew the castle was odd and unfamiliar to her, so if he could make something familiar in their room at least, he figured it would make it more hers. |
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Alorha walked slowly beside Sage as he moved through the greenhouse, watching the way his attention shifted constantly from one detail to the next. When he hummed softly and mentioned that the gardens felt like a whole new world, she could not help the small smile that tugged faintly at the corner of her mouth. It was obvious that he meant it. His eyes moved everywhere at once—toward the leaves brushing his fingers, the glass walls catching sunlight above them, the faint movement of plants shifting gently in the warm air. Even the way he touched things seemed careful and curious, his free hand brushing lightly along the edges of leaves or the stone frames around the planting beds as though he wanted to memorize the feeling of them. Alorha let him do it without comment. She had already begun to realize that most of this truly was new to him. The gardens outside had been enough to capture his attention completely, but the greenhouse seemed to deepen that sense of discovery. The warmth that filled the glass structure wrapped around them like a blanket, thick with the scent of damp soil and herbs, and she could see the way it eased some of the quiet tension that usually lingered in his shoulders. The air inside was almost still compared to the breeze outside, and the sunlight filtering through the glass panels made everything glow faintly green and gold. It was peaceful here, in a quieter way than the gardens. The castle felt distant behind thick glass walls and rows of plants. As they wandered deeper along the narrow paths between the tables, Alorha watched him carefully taking everything in, and she found herself studying the place more thoughtfully as well. The greenhouse was clearly well maintained—no dying leaves, no neglected trays of soil. Someone tended these plants regularly. Small labels had been pressed into the soil beside many of them, neat handwriting marking their names and uses. She recognized some from kitchens and apothecaries, but others were unfamiliar. The scent of crushed herbs hung faintly in the warm air, growing stronger whenever one of them brushed past a leaf. Sage seemed to relax more with every step they took, and Alorha found that she was relaxing a little too. The castle corridors always seemed to carry an invisible pressure with them, the quiet awareness that someone might appear around any corner. Here there was none of that. Just the soft creak of the wooden frames and the quiet rustle of leaves shifting against each other. When she mentioned the beans she had once grown beside the window in her old room, she noticed the way Sage’s attention returned to her almost immediately. His soft chuckle echoed lightly in the warm space as he teased that she could have chosen a smaller plant to grow indoors. The memory made her laugh quietly as well. “In my defense,” she replied lightly, “I didn’t expect them to grow quite that enthusiastically.” Her gaze drifted briefly across the climbing herbs along one of the greenhouse walls as she continued, her tone thoughtful rather than embarrassed. “At first it was just a little pot on the windowsill. Then I tied a bit of string to help them grow upward… and after that they decided the wall looked like a good place to live too.” She shook her head faintly at the memory, the amusement still lingering in her voice. “Eventually I had vines running halfway across the room before anyone noticed.” She slowed beside one of the longer planting tables, resting her hand lightly on the wooden edge as she studied the rows of herbs growing there. Some had small purple flowers tucked between the leaves, while others spread in dense clusters that released sharp scents whenever the air moved around them. The warmth of the greenhouse made the entire place feel alive and comfortable in a way the castle rarely did. She glanced toward Sage again, noticing the quiet contentment in his expression as he explored the space. It was clear he liked it here, just as much as he had liked the gardens outside. “I think you’re going to end up spending a lot of time out here,” she said after a moment, the observation gentle rather than teasing. Her eyes moved slowly around the greenhouse again, already imagining the different corners and paths they had yet to explore. “Honestly… I probably will too.” Alorha pushed away from the table lightly after another moment and continued further down the path between the rows, curiosity guiding her attention from plant to plant as they moved deeper into the greenhouse. The space seemed larger the farther they walked, the rows stretching on beneath the curved glass ceiling while the scent of herbs lingered softly around them. It felt like the sort of place where someone could spend hours without noticing time passing at all—and judging by the thoughtful look on Sage’s face, she suspected he had already begun imagining exactly that. |
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Sage had chuckled softly when she protested his teasing by saying she didn't expect them to get so big. "They're bean plants, evenn I know they'll take over any spot you put them in," he mused with a small grin, clearly enjoying their little round of banter. It was nice to have someone he could do things like this with - they could tease each other without consequence, and he felt like he could trust her with something he wouldn't be comfortable sharing with other people. As they moved along, he stopped to peer closely at each of the leaves and flowers, smelling most of them and rolling fallen leaves between his fingers curiously. There weren't any birds or even very many bugs in the greenhouse, but it felt no less alive than the gardens had. There were still small insects scurrying about, but for the msot part it seemed clean. It made sense if these plants were to eventually be used as medicine, he supposed. He had never been down to the medics, despite having been sick quite a few times over his years here. Not to mention the beatings he'd recieved as well. He decided not to focus on that though, since he wanted to enjoy his time out here. "How much of this do you think they actually use in a year," he wondered out loud, sort of tilting his head back to look up and then turn in a slow circle, just taking in how large the greenhouse was in and of itself. "I mean...there's so many herbs and things in here, and it's only one greenhouse," he added, glancing over at the shapes of the other structures outside the one they were in at the moment. He cotninued walking again, slowly, suddently curious as to what the other greenhouses held. "Do you think it's all herbs or will they all be different," he asked Alorha, shifting to move towards the divider that led to the next greenhouse's space and peering into it curiously. This one looked similar at first, but as he moved closer he realized that this one was full of different types of lettuce and other leafy greens that would be used in a meal. It made sense that they would have various food items in the greenhouses too, now that he thought about it. That would be a lot of food they could just grow right here ratehr than needing to import goods or anything like that. Especially during times of war, where shipped goods might be slowed or stopped entirely. With these greenhouses, the castle could sustain itself, at least for a while. He wasn't sure how much food everyone in the castle would eat, or quite how much was in the greenhouses. Or how fast the plants took to grow. Or...well, he didn't know much. He decided not to think about it much. |
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Alorha laughed softly when Sage insisted that even he knew bean plants would take over any space they were given. The quiet confidence in his teasing made her grin in return, and she shook her head faintly as they continued walking between the rows of herbs. “In my defense,” she replied lightly, her tone warm with amusement, “no one told me that when I planted them.” The memory still made her smile. At the time she had only wanted something alive in her room, something small that she could take care of. She certainly had not expected the vines to grow quite so enthusiastically that they started claiming the walls as their own territory. Still, she remembered how satisfying it had been to watch them climb higher each day, twisting around the strings she had tied for them, reaching toward the window light as though the entire room existed just for them. Compared to the perfectly ordered rows inside the greenhouse, her little window garden had been messy and chaotic—but it had been hers. She watched Sage as they moved deeper between the tables, noticing the way he paused constantly to study the plants more closely. He leaned in to smell the leaves, sometimes rolling a fallen one between his fingers as though testing the texture or scent of it. The greenhouse was quieter than the gardens outside, but it still felt alive. Small insects scurried through the soil here and there, and the leaves shifted faintly whenever warm air moved through the space. The entire structure carried the comforting scent of herbs and damp earth, thick enough that it clung gently to the back of her throat when she breathed in. Alorha brushed her fingers along the edge of a nearby table as she walked, her eyes wandering over the neat rows of plants growing beneath the glass roof. Everything here had a purpose. Nothing was simply decorative. Each leaf and stem would eventually be harvested, dried, ground, or brewed into something useful. When Sage wondered aloud how much of it the castle actually used in a year, she slowed slightly, glancing around the greenhouse with fresh curiosity. Now that he had mentioned it, the sheer number of plants was difficult to ignore. Row after row stretched beneath the curved ceiling, each bed carefully tended and thriving. She turned slowly with him as he looked around, following his gaze toward the other glass structures visible through the walls of this one. “That’s a good question,” she admitted thoughtfully. “Castles use a lot more than most people realize. Medicines, teas, salves… sometimes even cooking.” She tilted her head slightly, studying the rows more closely as she considered it. “Still… this does seem like a lot for just one building.” Sage’s curiosity seemed to grow the more he noticed the scale of the place, and Alorha found herself smiling faintly as he wandered toward the divider leading into the next greenhouse. She followed a step behind him, just as curious now that the thought had been planted in her mind. When he peered inside, she leaned slightly to look past him—and immediately noticed the difference. The next space was greener in a different way. Instead of herbs and small flowering plants, the beds here were filled with rows of leafy vegetables. Heads of lettuce spread outward in neat clusters, their pale green leaves curling gently toward the light above. Other greens grew in long narrow rows beside them, their leaves broader and darker. Alorha stepped inside beside Sage, looking over the rows with clear interest. “Well,” she said with a small, upbeat laugh, “there’s your answer.” She moved a little further down the row, lightly touching one of the lettuce leaves with her fingertips. It was cool and slightly damp beneath the warm greenhouse air. “It looks like each greenhouse has its own purpose,” she continued, glancing around the wide space. “Herbs in one, vegetables in another.” The realization made the entire system feel even more impressive. She walked slowly between the rows, her eyes moving across the carefully spaced plants as the idea settled in her mind. Growing food here meant the castle wouldn’t need to rely entirely on shipments from outside. Even if roads became unsafe or supplies slowed down, the castle could still produce some of its own food. “That’s actually very clever,” she added, her tone bright with quiet admiration. “If the castle ever needed to rely on itself for a while, this would help a lot.” She looked back toward Sage then, still smiling slightly as she gestured toward the other greenhouses visible through the glass walls. “Now I’m curious what the rest of them hold,” she said, her voice carrying a spark of playful curiosity. “Fruit, maybe? Or flowers?” The thought seemed to energize her a little, and she took a few more steps down the path between the vegetable rows, already glancing toward the next divider that led further into the connected greenhouses. |
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Sage had just chuckled softly at Alorha's defense, tossing her an amused glance and shake of his head before he moved on, mostly letting the conversation go. "If you insist," he mused, still in a somewhat teasing manner. "Did you even ask anyone or did you just get a plant and decide it would go in your room," he asked, though he figured he could guess at the answer to that - she didn't seem like the type to ask for permission when she put her mind to something like that. Not that it was a bad thing, but it did amuse him a little bit. As they continued on, and they moved through the herbs in the quiet, he found himself wishing he could just live in here. It wouldn't really work realistically, of course, but the thought was nice. Just stay in here for a while - no chores or orders or needing to put up with the nobles. It was calm - peaceful in a way he hadn't known before. He couldn't just hide in here forever, he knew that, but he did make up his mind to visit more often, when he could. And also to make their room mimic this sort of environment, as well as the environment of the gardens, as bets he could. He was already planning some things he wanted to surprise Alorha with. As they peeked into the next greenhouse, and Alorha slid next to him to look inside herself, he hummed softly in agreement with her. 'I suppose so," he noted, letting her wander in before following. He moved to peer into the long beds of greens, eyes widening in wonder the more he looked at it all. "How many types of lettuce are there," he sort of wondered, clearly in awe with it all. An entire greenhouse just for lettuce seemed crazy to him - but then again the cooks did feed a lot of people, so he supposed it made a little bit of sense to have so much of it. But what was the purpose of all the different types? "How different can they all taste," he added with a slight wrinkle to his nose, clearly a little confused about it all. Eventually, he sort of just chalked it up to the nobles being weird and liking to show off, and moved on towards the next door. "I know," he groaned when she mentioned looking at more. "I don't think we'll have time to get through them all today either," he added with a sort of grumble, admittedly slightly annoyed by that fact. he'd much rather just stay out here all afternoon. But they still had jobs to do - jobs that were quickly approaching them again. They would be back out here soon, he was sure, but the idea of going back into the castle suddely felt suffocating, in a way. |
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Alorha only laughed more when Sage questioned whether she had asked anyone before bringing a plant into her room. The amused shake of his head made it obvious he already suspected the answer, and she lifted one shoulder in a small, unapologetic shrug as they continued walking between the rows of herbs. “Of course I didn’t ask,” she replied lightly, her voice carrying the same playful energy as his teasing. “If I had asked, someone would have said no.” The answer felt obvious to her. Asking permission often meant inviting unnecessary complications, and at the time she had simply wanted something alive near her window. A small pot of soil and a few seeds had seemed harmless enough, even if the result had eventually become far less small than she had originally intended. Thinking back on it now still made her smile faintly. The vines had climbed the strings she had tied for them, stretching eagerly toward the sunlight and slowly claiming more of the wall beside her bed. For a while it had felt like she had a little piece of the outdoors living quietly in the corner of her room. Compared to the perfectly managed greenhouse around them, her old arrangement had been chaotic, but the memory still warmed her in a quiet way. As they moved deeper through the herbs, she noticed the way Sage seemed to relax the longer they stayed inside the greenhouse. His shoulders loosened, and his attention wandered easily from one plant to another as he examined them. It made her strangely happy to see. When they had first begun spending time together, he had been far quieter, more cautious with his words, as though he were constantly measuring what was safe to say. Now he teased her openly, asked questions without hesitation, and spoke his thoughts out loud without the same guarded edge she had noticed before. The change was subtle, but she could see it clearly. It made her feel oddly proud, even if she never said so aloud. Whatever the reason, he was more comfortable now, and she was glad to be someone he could talk to without worrying. When they stepped into the greenhouse filled with leafy greens, Sage’s reaction made her grin again. His eyes widened slightly as he looked across the long beds of lettuce, clearly baffled by the sheer variety growing there. When he wondered aloud how many kinds there even were—and how different they could possibly taste—Alorha walked a little further down the row, studying the plants with interest. She reached out and gently pinched a small leaf from one of the outer plants before turning back toward him. “Actually… quite different,” she said, holding the leaf between her fingers. Her expression carried a hint of playful curiosity as she extended her hand toward him. “Here. Try it.” “Some are sweet,” she explained as she leaned lightly against the edge of the planting bed, “and some are a little bitter. The darker the leaves usually are, the stronger the taste gets.” She gestured toward another nearby plant with broader, darker green leaves. “That one would probably taste sharper than this one.” She reached out again, plucking another small leaf from a different plant before holding it up for comparison. “The cooks use different kinds depending on what they’re making. Salads, soups, garnishes… things like that.” Her tone remained bright and easy as she spoke, clearly enjoying the small lesson. “So I suppose an entire greenhouse for lettuce isn’t quite as ridiculous as it looks.” Sage’s groan about not having time to explore all the greenhouses made her laugh softly again. She followed his gaze toward the other glass structures beyond the divider, their shapes glowing faintly in the afternoon light filtering through the glass. “We’ll just have to come back,” she said with a cheerful shrug, the solution seeming obvious to her. “There’s no rule saying we have to see everything in one day.” She pushed away from the planting bed and stepped back toward the path, glancing toward the doorway leading into the next greenhouse before looking back at him again. She could see the hint of frustration lingering in his expression at the thought of leaving soon, the peaceful calm of the greenhouse clearly far more appealing than returning to the castle halls. |
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Sage found himself still rather confused as to why the cooks needed so many different kings of lettuce, though Alorha's comment did make a little but of sense, he supposed. He didn't know much about cooking, of course, but the idea of something bitter in a dish that wasn't supposed to be bitter didn't sound like a great idea, or the vice versa of the situation. So he could understand it a little bit, he supposed. When she offered the leaf to him, he took it quizzically, sniffing it out of curiosity before placing it in his mouth. The sniff didn't really tell him much, which he'd expected, so he wasn't sure why hed done it, but....whatever. It tasted like a leaf to him, so he wasn't really sure what he was supposed to be finding out by eating it. "It tastes green," he noted, vaguely dryly, clearly unimpressed with it all. He was probably missing something, but he didn't especially care all that much. Not about lettuce anyway. When she mentioned having to come back later, he nodded in agreement. "At least they're here year round," he mused. Unlike the gardens, which mostly died off each year, the greenhouses would be here and warm even through the winter months. It was nice to know that wouldn't change. He lingered there for as long as he could, but eventually it grew time to head back to the castle. They had both accumulated dirt from the area, despite the fact that they hadn't actually been doing any gardening - but they'd need time to freshen up. Shower, and change - that sort of thing. They had moved back to their room quickly, and Sage ushered Alorha into the bathroom to shower as he moved to gather his outfit and such. By the time he'd gathere it all, she was out of the shower and he slipped into the bathroom to wash himself off. It didn't take too long, and luckily his hair didn't take too long to dry, so once he was out and dressed, the majority of the time was spent on makeup and placing the jewelry back onto his body. They were ready soon enough though, and he glanced over at Alorha as he clipped the veil onto his face. "Ready," he asked, waiting for her nod before shifting to open the doors and wander out slightly behind her, taking his space as her servant once again. |
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Alorha watched Sage chew the lettuce leaf with clear curiosity, her arms loosely folded as she leaned against the edge of the planting bed. When he finally delivered his verdict—it tastes green—she blinked once before a laugh slipped out of her. It wasn’t a quiet laugh either; it was warm and amused, the kind that escaped before she could stop it. “That,” she said between the last traces of laughter, “might be the least helpful description of food I’ve ever heard.” Her eyes sparkled with quiet mischief as she pushed away from the bed and wandered a few steps further down the row, lightly brushing her fingers along the tops of the lettuce leaves as she passed them. “You’re supposed to notice if it’s sweet or bitter,” she added conversationally, glancing back at him with a grin. “Green isn’t really a flavor.” Still, she couldn’t blame him for not being impressed. Lettuce wasn’t exactly exciting, no matter how many varieties the cooks grew. She plucked another small leaf from a different plant and examined it thoughtfully before dropping it back into the bed. “To be fair,” she continued lightly, “I don’t think lettuce is meant to be thrilling. It’s more of a… supporting character in a meal.” Her tone carried an easy rhythm now, the conversation flowing naturally as they moved through the greenhouse. She found herself enjoying the way Sage spoke more freely these days. When they had first begun spending time together, every word from him had seemed careful, measured, like he was constantly weighing what might be safe to say. Now he teased her, asked questions, and even made dry little comments like that without hesitation. It was a small change, but it made their conversations feel lighter, easier. When he mentioned that the greenhouses would stay warm through the winter, she nodded thoughtfully, glancing up toward the curved glass ceiling where sunlight filtered through in pale golden beams. “That’s probably the best part of them,” she agreed. “Even when everything outside dies back, this will still be here.” The thought was strangely comforting. Gardens were beautiful, but they were temporary. These greenhouses felt more reliable somehow, like a small pocket of summer that refused to disappear no matter how cold the world outside became. They lingered a while longer, wandering slowly through the rows of vegetables and peeking into another adjoining section before time finally began to press in around them again. The light filtering through the glass had shifted slightly, and Alorha knew they couldn’t avoid the castle’s schedule forever. Eventually they made their way back out of the greenhouses and through the gardens, retracing the winding paths toward the tall stone walls of the castle. By the time they stepped inside again, faint traces of dirt and dust clung to both of them—nothing dramatic, but enough to remind them that they had spent the afternoon wandering among soil and plants rather than polished hallways. They returned to their room quickly, and Sage gently ushered her toward the bathroom so she could wash up first. The warm water felt refreshing after the humid greenhouse air, and she took a little longer than strictly necessary, letting the last traces of dirt wash away as she tried to quiet her thoughts. When she stepped back out wrapped in fresh clothes, Sage slipped into the bathroom next without a word, leaving her alone in the room for a few minutes. That was when the nervousness started creeping in. At first it was only a faint flutter in her stomach as she dried her hair and straightened the fabric of her outfit. Then it grew stronger as she began fastening the final pieces of her clothing, her hands slowing slightly as she remembered exactly where they were expected to go next. The meeting. The gardens and greenhouses had made the castle feel softer somehow, less intimidating than the stone corridors usually did. But now that they were preparing to return to the formal parts of the day, that calm feeling began slipping away. Alorha stood near the mirror, adjusting the sleeve of her outfit with careful fingers as she watched her reflection. She looked… appropriate enough. Clean, composed, exactly as someone in her position should appear. But the thought of walking into a room full of nobles still twisted uncomfortably in her chest. When Sage emerged again, freshly dressed and already beginning the familiar process of applying his makeup and jewelry, she forced her thoughts to settle. He moved with practiced ease as he worked, placing each piece exactly where it belonged until the transformation back into formal perfection was complete. When he finally clipped the veil into place and asked if she was ready, she hesitated for just the briefest moment before giving him a small nod. “Yes,” she said quietly. They stepped out into the hallway soon after, Sage falling naturally into position slightly behind her as her servant once again. The familiar shift in roles happened so smoothly it almost felt automatic, yet the closer they moved toward the meeting halls, the more aware Alorha became of the tightening knot in her chest. The castle corridors seemed larger now, colder somehow than they had earlier in the day. Servants passed them occasionally, bowing their heads politely as they moved along, and the distant murmur of voices grew louder as they approached the wing where the meeting would be held. Alorha kept her posture straight, her steps steady and measured, but her thoughts were less calm than she allowed anyone to see. The memory of the gardens lingered faintly in the back of her mind—the warmth of the greenhouse, the smell of herbs, the quiet laughter between rows of lettuce. That had felt natural. This did not. As they reached the final corridor leading toward the meeting chamber, her hands folded together lightly in front of her, fingers tightening just slightly against each other before she forced them to relax again. She lifted her chin a little, trying to steady the uneasy feeling that kept whispering the same quiet thought in the back of her mind. She didn’t belong here. The guards standing outside the meeting chamber doors straightened as Alorha approached, their spears shifting slightly as they acknowledged her presence. One of them stepped forward just enough to pull the heavy door open, the thick wood moving with a low creak that seemed louder than it should have in the quiet corridor. Warm light spilled out from the room beyond, along with the low murmur of voices already deep in conversation. Alorha paused for the briefest moment at the threshold. It wasn’t long enough for anyone else to notice, but long enough for her chest to tighten again before she stepped inside. The meeting chamber was large, far larger than the smaller council rooms she had glimpsed before. A long polished table stretched across the center of the room, its dark surface reflecting the glow of several tall candles placed along its length. Nobles were already seated along both sides, their clothes rich with embroidery and color, jewelry catching the candlelight whenever someone moved. A few servants lingered quietly near the walls with trays of wine or parchment, ready to assist when called. Several heads turned as she entered. That was the part she still wasn’t used to. Alorha kept her posture steady, though she could feel the weight of those glances settling over her as she moved toward the seat clearly meant for her at the head end of the table. The nobles quieted a little as she reached her chair. Not entirely. But enough. She took her seat carefully, smoothing the fabric of her sleeve against the table as she settled into place. For a moment she focused on something small and simple—the pattern carved into the wooden edge of the table, the flicker of candlelight reflecting across its surface—anything that helped steady the nervous tension twisting inside her chest. A tall older man seated halfway down the table cleared his throat first. His robes were dark blue, trimmed with silver thread, and several rings gleamed on his fingers as he rested his hands together. “Your Highness,” he began, dipping his head politely. “We appreciate you attending. We hoped to discuss several matters regarding the western trade routes.” Alorha blinked once. Trade routes. Somehow that felt… less terrifying than she had expected. She nodded slowly, forcing her shoulders to relax as she folded her hands together in front of her on the table. “Of course,” she said, her voice steady even if her nerves still fluttered beneath it. “Please go on.” The man gestured toward a map spread across the center of the table. It had clearly been placed there before she arrived, the parchment marked with small ink lines showing roads, towns, and border regions. “There have been delays with shipments coming through the western pass,” he explained, leaning slightly forward as he pointed to one of the narrow routes drawn across the map. “Merchants claim bandit activity has increased along this road. Some caravans have turned back entirely rather than risk the journey.” A few murmurs rose from the other nobles seated nearby. One younger man spoke next, her voice sharp with impatience. “If the merchants are exaggerating again, we shouldn’t waste resources chasing shadows.” “They’ve lost three shipments this season,” the older man replied calmly. “Hardly shadows.” Alorha listened carefully as they spoke, her eyes drifting across the map while she followed the conversation. The discussion moved quickly, different nobles offering opinions or arguments about patrols, escorts, or whether the merchants themselves might be at fault. At first she simply listened. It was easier that way. But as the conversation continued, she found herself leaning slightly forward, studying the map more closely. The trade route wound through a narrow mountain pass before reaching several smaller villages. Villages that likely depended on those same merchants. Her fingers rested lightly against the table as she spoke again, quieter than some of the others but steady. “If the route is unsafe,” she said thoughtfully, “the villages along it will suffer too, won’t they?” The conversation paused briefly. Several nobles glanced toward her again, this time with more curiosity than scrutiny. The older man inclined his head slightly. “Yes, Your Highness. They rely heavily on the caravans.” Alorha nodded slowly, her thoughts moving a little faster now as she looked back down at the map. “Then perhaps we should send patrols to confirm what’s happening there,” she suggested. “Not just for the merchants… but for the people living along the route.” A few quiet murmurs followed that. Not disagreement. More like consideration. The man in blue robes nodded again, a faint approving look crossing his expression. “A reasonable suggestion.” The meeting continued from there, the conversation shifting toward logistics—how many soldiers could be spared, which captains might be trusted to investigate the matter properly. And slowly, almost without her realizing it, Alorha’s nerves began to ease. She still felt out of place sitting among them. But at least now she understood what they were talking about. |
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Sage had rolled his eyes when Alorha teased him about his comment on the lettuce. "Well, it wasn't either one," he noted with a sort of chuckle. Of course, he grunted in agreement when she mentioned it wouldn't be too thrilling by itself. "I guess it's normally in things," he agreed lightly. Though, he still couldn't really see how it changed the flavors oof things at all. As they moved back to the castle, his own nerved started to tingle as well. Stepping back into the castle felt almost like returning willingly to a prison cell and locking the door behind him. He knew that wasn't a very accurate anology - at lest not anymore, with Alorha here....but still, he felt a little less free inside these walls. Oh well...he'd just have to get used to it. He could tell Alorha was nervous about the meetings as they moved through the hallways, and stuck close beside her. Not enough so that anyone would notice, but he hoped it helped ease her nerves at least a little bit. He stood close by her chair in the meeting too, the familiar presence of her easing his own nerves as well. He'd never liked the meetings either - they always had the potential to turn into something bad for him. But with Alorha here, none of the nobles had tried anything yet. He hoped they wouldn't, of course, but he knew eventually one of them would catch him alone. Then word would spread, and more would do it. Then it would become common. He'd have to change his schedules slightly in hopes of avoiding them, do his best to warn them off. But it wouldn't work forever, he knew that. When the nobles started talking, his attention was pulled back to the maps. Bandits....were those the same routes they would be taking to the northern kingdoms? If they were, it could prove to be an issue. They couldn't have bandits roaming around when they queen was travelling through the area. Or ever, of course, but the thought did worry him. He shifted slightly so he could reach out and gently use his finger to spell the word ' trip?' against her back, warning her to ask of potential dangers there. It was done subtly, meant so that no one would notice the small movement. But it was something that should be asked about, and he wasn't allowed to speak so...maybe they could find a better way of communicating during meetings, but for now, hopefully this would work. (sorry college has been crazy busy recently lol) |
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Morning Snow followed by Sunshine
