An Unlikely Proposal

rissa

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1x1 between @Karo and @rissa
 
Elowen surveyed the room, slightly intimidated. Her eyes landed on a tall man with long hair, standing under the flag for The 13 Melodies. He looked nice enough, though the woman beside him had a scowl that made Elowen nervous. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to the man.

“Excuse me, sir? You’re an heir, right? I’m a scholar from Aurum, could I interview you?” she asked, her voice hopeful.

Loros glanced down at the young scholar, a dark eyebrow rising, noticing the distinct lack of Auroch markings. His head tilted ever-so-slightly in thought, A neophyte, then? Hm. He spared a glance at Isie, remembering her words, and then at the rest of the Jade Quinate. He nodded once to them, relaying his intent and consent and then once more at the scholar.

“You may,” Loros replied, “As long as I get to interview you in return.”

Elowen blinked at him, surprised by his request. She quickly shook it off, pulling out her little blue notebook and a pen. “Okay, sure,” she responded with a small smile. “Thank you!”

“Okay, um, first question: what is your name?”

“My name is Loros Rosaire-Rhone Lumenstile,” he said softly, enunciating every syllable slowly when he repeated it again. “Do you wish for me to spell it?”

“And what is yours, my lady?”

Elowen nodded in answer to his first question, already crossing out her first attempt to spell his name. “My name is Elowen Slette,” she answered, looking up from her notebook.

Loros repeated his name several times, even spelling it out letter by letter. The Melodite tongue wasn’t difficult, per say, but it had a certain rhythmic enunciation that was hard for mainlanders to master. “It is nice to meet you, Lady Slette,” Loros said with a small incline of his head. “Why do you strive to become a scholar?”

Elowen answered without hesitation. “I want to become a professor, like my parents,” she replied. “But first I want to be an advisor, somewhere far from Aurum.”

She returned to her notebook. “Next question, what nation are you from? The 13 Melodies, right?” She glanced up at the flag above him.

“Correct,” Loros replied, sparing a glance at the unadorned banners that heralded his motherland. No emblem or sigil marked the silken swallowtail flags; in Unity, the Thirteen Melodies were of one mind and one decision, unanimous in belief. Or so it is said.

The first Warden of Melodies chose pink and seafoam green for the waters in the morning and the salty spray in the evening and the goddess that slept in the air and the water and the secret parts of oneself. Pink and green have become the representation of the reformed Melodite culture and the promise of unification therein.

“Pink and seafoam green, our promise of Unity.” Loros recited softly, a small smile dancing at the corner of his lips. “And where do you aspire to Advise, my lady, if you could choose?”

“Truthfully, I’d love to advise in The 13 Melodies,” she answered, her cheeks reddening slightly. “I’ve heard how pretty it is and want to see for myself.”

Loros inclined his head so he could better hide his smile. It was small and knowing and when he spoke, it was soft, as though he were sharing a secret. “It is beautiful, especially in the heart of the country, where the fields of wildflowers grow abound, as far as the eyes can see.

“When you go, try to arrive in spring, after the first warmth. The Sea of Blooms is a few days from the capital if you travel by cart, a few weeks by foot… but the view is worth it.”

Elowen couldn’t help herself. Something about the heir’s smile seemed to bury itself deep within her heart, and in an instant, she was imagining herself jumping into his arms.

His eyes twinkled as he described the beauty of the Sea of Blooms and she thought she just might get lost in them.

She saw herself there, Loros by her side. They embraced as a breeze flew through the flowers, picking up petals that danced around the two as slowly, he brought his lips to hers…

She stared into his eyes with girlish hope for a moment before shaking herself out of her stupor.

“I-I will,” she stammered, trying to collect herself. “Um,” she cleared her throat, scanning the prewritten questions in her notebook.

“Final question, how do you feel about everything? The marriage, the journey, what life holds after this?”

Loros, inquisitive by nature, puzzled over the dazed look Elowen wore. Eyes bright and full, they nonetheless seemed far away and Loros wondered if it was something he’d said. He still looked a bit lost when she cleared her throat and asked her final question.

He should have expected it, of course, but it hit him in the gut like a blunted hammer. Loros’ eyes darkened and subtly, he began to close himself off— outer robe pulled taught against closed arms, shifting away ever so slightly the longer he delayed answering. When he finally spoke, it was barely above a whisper; meant for Elowen’s ears only. Not even the Jade Quinate at his back would be able to hear the response on his breath as he leaned in to whisper.

“I believe it a farce to continue archaic traditions. All of the people in our world should choose who they want to marry, shouldn’t they? Choose when and where the ceremony will be held? It is a farce to continue this outdated mandate and I’m not sure I will.”

Elowen listened intently to the heir, pausing her scribe. It felt as though he were letting her in on a secret, one that she shouldn’t write down. Her mouth fell open at his last words. In the history of the Unification, only a small few had refused to go through with it. They were met with outcry and ostracization all over the land, finding themselves shunned once they returned home. Surely Loros knew this.

“But what about your kingdom?” she asked, her voice giving away her shock. “Surely they’re expecting you to return with a bride.”

As the surrounding din picked up and the welcomings began in earnest, Loros couldn’t help but brood. At least until Elowen poised her question and a devious plot slowly began to form in his mind. “Aye,” Loros said with a smile, genuine and somewhat cheeky. “A bride. Why can’t it be of my choosing?”

Elowen pondered his question for a moment. The realistic and scholarly part of her could think of plenty of reasons why not: dashed alliances, threatened peace, and a break of a centuries-long tradition. But the romantic side of her empathized with Loros. Afterall, she would be heartbroken if she couldn’t marry for love.

“Well then, if you could choose, who would it be?”

That made him pause.

As if startled, Loros stared blankly, grasping at straws and shredded memories from days long gone. “I suppose there’s no one in particular,” Loros said after a while, features softening as he spoke aloud in thought. “Though she’ll need to be easy to talk to.”

There was a light flush under his tanned cheeks as he continued, “I suppose that’s most important. Would it be shallow of me to include ‘not boring’ as well?”

Smiling, enjoying the scholar’s presence, Loros leaned in and whispered, “Someone like you then I suppose.”

Elowen could feel the heat rising in her face, her cheeks turning bright pink. “L-like me?” she stuttered, thoughts racing. Again, the image of the two among the swirling flower petals came to mind and she thought, just for a moment…

No, that would be crazy!

Or would it?
 

It was perhaps crude of him, to drink in the sight of her in front of everyone.

Once spoken aloud— brought into existence and manifested in his mind's eye, Loros couldn’t help it. Undressing her with his gaze was a blatant understatement; the brooding mage in front of Elowen memorized every freckle on her face like they were constellations in the night sky and stared into her eyes for several long heartbeats, memorizing their shape, color, and hue. He leaned back and scrutinized her like a centuries old grimoire, realizing that she was beautiful and quaint. No pointed ears, no color-striped hair, only blue eyes as bright and curious as a cloudless day and flaxen hair designed to dance in Glyswing winds.

He realized halfway through that he was being incredibly forward. And incredibly rude. He half-bowed, face a bit flushed beneath his tan skin, and took a few steps back towards the small table reserved for himself and his Jade Quinate. He took a seat and poured himself a small glass of pomegranate wine. One of the Quinates at his back tsked but Loros ignored them and pointed to the seat in front of himself. There was no real way to reverse what he'd said even if he wanted to, so he opted to reel things back to something safe.

“I would guarantee you a life of comfort and thrill, even if it is not with me long-term. You would have your run of the Melodies.”
 
Elowen had never had a man look at her as intensely as the Melodite heir did now. Her eyes followed his as he seemed to take in every inch of her, studying her like she would an ancient tome of poems. Under his watchful eye, she could feel the flush spreading from her cheeks to her whole face.

It was only once he had retreated to the table that she felt her face begin to cool. No longer under his scrutiny, the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding came back to her easily. Curiously, she found herself missing his gaze. It felt inexplicably freeing to be perceived so wholly, especially by someone whose stare made her feel as though she might melt into a love-struck puddle.

Elowen followed his direction and took the seat across from him, looking down bashfully at her notebook. She wasn’t sure how to respond to his proposal. She wanted nothing more than to see the world, and here Loros was, offering it to her in the palm of his hand.

“What about my studies?” she asked worriedly, looking up from her notebook. “I can’t abandon them.”
 

The pomegranate wine was refreshing, a splash of sour and sweet to excite the senses and the palette. He hid a smile into the glass as Elowen sat in front of him, enjoying the sight perhaps a little too much. Her demure attitude was enticing, but her worry, while confusing to him, is what really made him swoon. This spur of the moment attraction, this unlikely proposal, it all stemmed from being stripped away from his own studies. The potential and the what-ifs of his own identity. It wouldn't be the same for Elowen though, he'd make sure of it.

Loros shrugged, almost nonchalantly, "Continue them as you travel. Surely we can hire tutors along the way, from wherever you wish. I would like to collect a few myself, especially in ancient dialects and artifact reconstruction."

He paused, taking another sip. "My sister sent me here by way of the northwestern trade route, but we could always travel back to the 13 Melodies by the southern shipping route and explore the southern coast? I've always wondered what the southern mages were like."
 
Elowen, pleased with his answer, found herself lost in thought. For a few moments, she considered his offer and weighed her options before finally giving a resolute nod.

“Okay. Okay! I will come with you.” Her excitement was palpable, but so too were her nerves. It was crazy, agreeing to go to a foreign land with a man she barely knew, but wasn’t this what she wanted? To travel and see the world? And here was this handsome heir, offering her just that.

His proposal to see the coast too was exciting. Elowen had always loved the sea. Something about the salt-scented air and blue waves made her feel at peace. She often would make the day’s journey to the coast of Aurum with her textbooks and stick her feet in the sand and read for hours. She imagined herself on the southern coast with Loros by her side and couldn’t help but give a small smile.

“I have to send word to my parents. They’re expecting me to return from Amberholm in three days' time.” She flipped to an empty page in her notebook and began scrawling out a quick message. Once she finished, she tore out the page and folded it up, looking expectantly at Loros. “Do you have a messenger in your group?”
 
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"Aye," Loros replied, glancing behind him and motioning towards Miyara. The woman was slight, even beneath the folded layers of the Melodite garb. She bowed at both of them and took a comfortable position behind Loros.

There was a jab in his back, a nailed finger poking and twisting and promising a lash. Loros fought back a smile and ignored the humorous situation. Miyara, the only messenger. Miyara, his sister's mole. Good, then she can run off and warn her.

"Would you prefer to accompany the message, Lady Elowen? Or would you like a quiet dash before the ceremonies begin?" He smiled at her, softly, genuinely, perhaps even a bit devilishly. They were partners in this scheme now and her voice carried the same weight.

I've no intention of marrying anyone not of my choice. I told Lis that. Loudly. Plainly. And yet she sent me anyways. She can't get too upset or claim she didn't see this coming. As long as I come back with a bride, I'll be fulfilling my duties as Lumenstile heir.

And everything else in-between is up to me and Elowen.

 
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Elowen knew her parents would be too busy to meet her and Loros if they were to return to Aurum. As professors and researchers, they had their schedules filled with academic pursuits. They loved their only child dearly, but the life of an Auroch academic was one of endless scholarly demands, late nights, and little free time. Elowen was lucky to get five minutes a week with either one of her parents.

Looking at Loros, Elowen caught the devilish look in his eye. It excited her, as she felt she was in on something.

“Let’s go,” she replied, tucking her notebook under her arm and placing her pen behind her ear. “My parents will be much too busy to greet us, so we might as well start the journey to your home.” Her voice betrayed her excitement. Something told her she was about to start the journey of a lifetime.
 
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There was something so joyful in Elowen's voice that it took Loros a moment to recognize it, to place what it truly was. True excitement, that bubbling geyser that erupted at the bottom of your stomach... It'd been a while since he felt it. He smiled, taking a moment to cherish that sound, before standing up and bowing. "Then we shall depart."

He turned and beckoned for Miyara to take the letter from Elowen and retrieve what information she needed to fulfill her messenger quest. When she was finished, dark jade eyes boring holes into his own, he said something that took her aback.

"Meet us in Syrahal, once you've delivered the letter to Elowen's parents. Wait for them, though, and see if they wish to respond before leaving."

Loros held out a hand for Elowen to take as Miyara bowed and turned on her heel, a confused look on her face as she whispered to the rest of the Jade Quinate at his back.

"Where are your belongings? Books and quills? If we're to depart quickly, let us ensure your goods are with mine own."
 
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Gingerly, Elowen took Loros’ outstretched hand, interlocking her fingers in his. His hand was warm and soft, easily dwarfing hers. A familiar pink tinged her cheeks once again.

“My parents got me a room at an inn in the city square. It’s only a short walk from here.” She replied, looking around at the mingling heirs and their entourages nervously. “Won’t there be questions if they see you leaving?” Her eyes flitted from person to person before landing on a servant. She watched as the woman made her way to a wall covered by a velvet curtain. She pulled the curtain aside, revealing a door. Light flooded in around her as she opened it and quickly disappeared, the curtain resettling over the exit.

“Here, follow me.” Elowen began to pull Loros along, heading quickly towards the curtain. She looked straight ahead, head slightly bowed as she tried not to attract any attention. From the corner of her eyes she could see the Melodite entourage watching them closely, but thankfully, no one else seemed to notice.

The exit spit the two out between some bushes. Ahead of them was a dirt path leading to what looked like the servant’s quarters. To their right she could hear the muted huffing of horses. That must be where the carriages are, which means the gate is near.

“Okay, this way!” Elowen began pulling Loros again, her excitement getting the most of her.
 
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“Won’t there be questions if they see you leaving?”

Loros made a face, small and fleeting. In truth, he hadn't even considered it. Nor did he consider giving a warning to his departure. Arriving at this farce show of diplomacy was enough by his measure, especially when he'd already received the best surprise of the century. He squeezed Elowen's hand lightly as she guided him around the atrium, slinking in and out and around the crowded floor. They moved with purpose, but not quick enough to draw attention. He approved.

As did his Jade Quinate, even if it made the Commander full belly groan under her breath.

"Miyara, you can stay here for awhile, with Pinglefen." The young Quinate at her side jumped to attention and she struggled not to groan. "Depart before a roll is called, but give us time to gain distance. Pinglefen, keep an eye on Miyara."

"As you wish Commander!"

"Hush, boy."

The young Quinate flushed under his jade robes, but nodded apologetically. The commander, exasperated by the day's events, looked at the other two and motioned with her jaw, towards an opposite exit, and made haste to the stables.

“Okay, this way!”

Loros suppressed a laugh. It would have bubbled out of his mouth like a boyish giggle, like when he and his sisters would roll across the knolly hills of their backyard, chest deep in a field of flowers. It'd been a long, long while since he'd felt any sort of excited passion like the thrill of an escape. He did let out a small quip of a shout when they ran face-to-face into a pair of servants. They took one look at him and simply bowed, however, so he didn't need to be worried. A moment later and they were entering the stables from the servant's quarters and his Jade Quinate were waiting for him.

"Well, get in I suppose." Commander Lisylle said with an exasperated edge to her voice. "Now that you've set the Melodies discordant."

Loros sighed and replied, "You'll realize sooner or later that I'm bringing back a sacred chord."

He held out the carriage door for Elowen and offered his hand to help her inside.
 
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As they encountered more and more Melodites disappointed in Loros’ decision, Elowen couldn’t help but begin to feel guilty.

As she took Loros’ hand and entered the carriage, she took a quick look back at the woman he had just spoken to. She was shaking her head, her displeasure clear. Elowen frowned, the guilt now consuming her.

A people pleaser, she had always strived to make those around her happy. To see so many people disapproving of the two was beginning to eat away at her.

“Loros…” Elowen spoke softly, looking down at her lap. “Everyone seems upset with us. Are… are we doing something wrong?”

The carriage rocked slightly as the coachman climbed aboard and took his seat. With a loud “yah!” and the crack of the reins, the carriage began moving forward. A mixture of excitement and worry swirled in the Auroch scholar’s stomach as she looked out the window and saw the Great Keep pull away from view.
 
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”Wrong?” Loros asked aloud, though it was less of a question and more a puzzled statement. “No, simply… Unexpected.” He reached across the spacious and decorated carriage to squeeze Elowen’s hand in reassurance.

“Let them question. Let them wonder and worry. As long as your heart is still with me, then all is well and I’ve no regrets."

There was a momentary pause as the carriage made it to the Great Keep’s gate. Loros’ heart fluttered, half wondering if the guards would halt their procession, too focused on protecting their farce peace relations to adhere to the Kingdom Covenant of 545. But there was a shout from Lisylle’s over the din and then the staccato rhythm of the cobbled streets began their songs once again.

“We’ll be at the city square in a few moments, it’s not that far from the Great Keep,” The commander shouted through the layers of fabric and folded wood. “Would you like an escort, Lady Elowen?”

“I’ll suffice.” Loros called back, smiling reassuringly at Elowen.

“Here, before I forget and before anyone dares to question…” Loros slipped a ring from his finger, which held the crest of his house and the Melodite insignia. “It’s yours now.”

 
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Loros’ words reassured her and the squeeze of her hand made her heart skip. She smiled back at Loros, her eyes flitted to his hand as he removed the ring on his finger.

Elowen’s eyes widened as Loros presented her with his ring. Made of pure gold and aquamarine, it was beautiful and ornate.

Stunned, she could only whisper her response. “Thank you, it’s beautiful!”

As she slipped the ring onto her finger, she could feel a girlish joy rush through her. In Aurum, there is a long-standing tradition of sweethearts giving each other their class rings. Her older friends would often come to her overjoyed wearing the rings of their partners. Even her mother and father still wore each other’s rings. Because education is everything in Aurum, class rings are incredibly important. To give yours to someone else was one of the highest displays of love and commitment, just below marriage.

Of course, Loros couldn’t possibly have known this. Still, the gesture sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She only wished she had a class ring to give him in return.

She opened her mouth to express this, only to be cut off by the shout of the commander announcing their arrival at the inn. He quickly dismounted and opened the door for the two. Elowen followed Loros out of the carriage before grabbing his hand to pull him towards the inn door. She was eager to grab her things and leave for The 13 Melodies as soon as possible.

She led him through the wooden door and up the stairs to the room where she had been staying. As she pushed the door open, it revealed a simple room with a bed, dresser, and desk. Characteristically, her clothes hadn’t yet been unpacked but her bookbag had; books and papers lay piled on the desk next to an almost fully melted candle.

“It shouldn’t take me long to pack, feel free to take a seat,” Elowen said to Loros, gesturing to the desk chair.
 
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He sat comfortably, resting in the desk chair like a prince. It was always interesting, watching people work. Studying the way they moved, how their hands interacted with the world. Some were like water; graceful, elegant, never still always adapting continuously in pursuit of their prey. Some hands were like fire; interposing themselves here and there and everywhere, burning embers of passion and rage-- firm grasps flittering glances --completely insatiable. Others were swift and flighty like the breeze, distressingly soft and liable to flee, their grasps weak in soul and shake or hearty like a gale-force wind and somehow either one or the other, never both. Others were steady and steadfast like the earth, with calm, methodical, meticulous movements, always deliberate in application; hands that missed nothing.

Loros waited patiently, mind wandering, ready to help whenever was needed of him. The excitement was infectious though and her busy hands made him think of the docks, of the gnarled and salt-sprayed hands of the boat captain waiting for them. To go south and then north broadened so many horizons.

"Have you ever considered studying magic?" Loros found himself wondering after a fashion, curious where their academic interests and distastes laid.
 
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Elowen shook her head, not looking up from her task. “No, magic isn’t really available to study in Aurum.”

That was true. What Elowen failed to mention, perhaps because Loros’ tone gave away his own interest, was that the study of magic was severely looked down upon in Aurum. No Auroch would ever dream of attempting such a trivial pursuit.

Well, perhaps no Auroch but her. Books and stories still told of magic and its abilities, and Elowen had been taken with the idea since she was young. Still, the idea of trying to study it made her anxious. What if she was bad at it? Surely you had to have some sort of innate skill to study something so complex. Could an Auroch ever dream of mastering something so foreign?

She placed the last of the books in her luggage. “There, I’m ready!”
 
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"Then we shall be off!" Loros replied, heaving a few of the heavier luggage containers so they could make one trip up and one trip down and make haste towards the docks. There was an insatiable hunger to feel the salty spray upon his face once again, especially with Elowen at his side. He urged her to take one last look around the rented room to ensure nothing was left behind before ushering them out of the inn and out of the Middle Kingdom.

*•*•*​

Excitement was infectious. He’d learned that the day he met Elowen. Two weeks had passed since that fateful encounter, two weeks of comfort and bliss and most importantly, educational sparring.

The Quinate Commander watched them from the corner of her eye, from dusk til dawn til dusk again, confused mostly, but she kept any and all questions to herself, though she wore a half-hidden smirk whenever she thought neither songbird wasn’t looking. Loros was thankful for it and thankful Elowen was just as studious as he. Together they studied, wrote upon the rocking waves until they were covered in ink and their quill nibs were too far worn to be of use. Yesterday, the boat captain plucked a feather from a passing seagull and Loros had spent half the night carving away at the nib.

Breakfast was to be served soon, a fish stew adapted to the climate and the plainness of taste these river fish were so known for. Unsure of Elowen’s palette, he asked the chef to keep the spices mild. The last of the fresh baked bread, crumbled with aged cheese (his favorite) was also to be served and he waited patiently for Elowen to rise. A new quill, enchanted with his magic, rested upon the dining table in the galley, wrapped in a coral pink sleeve.

They were a day from the nearest docks, where they’d resupply and spend the next few days enjoying the sights of New Weldenburg, the last stop before reaching the Southern Straits and the mages that lived beyond.

Yesterday, Elowen had decided on numbers and letters, an Aurum classic he wished to improve upon. His accent made it difficult to pronounce certain words, but he was improving quickly under her tutelage. Today, however, he had chosen magic as the day’s curriculum.

He was beyond excited to see what innate talents Elowen would show.

 
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In the middle of the Southern Straits, a Melodite ship rocked back and forth on its waves. They were like gentle giants, carefully heaving the vessel up and down.

Ever a light sleeper, a particularly large wave jostled Elowen awake. She sat up in bed with a yawn, brushing hair from her face. The realization that yet another day had come hit her, and she practically jumped out of bed with excitement to begin getting ready. She dressed and washed her face quickly before setting about the long and arduous task of braiding her hair.

About 45 minutes later she tied the last ribbon around her intricate braids, ready to seize the day and see Loros again. Occasionally while studying together, she’d look up from her books and just gaze at Loros, taking in his beauty. The two had grown very close over the last two weeks and the idea of spending her life with him had become even more appealing. There was just something about his presence that brought her unfettered joy. With Loros, there was never a dull moment. Even in silence, there was a certain charge to the air that felt electric. Elowen always felt like she was right where she belonged when she was by his side.

Today the two would be studying magic together. Elowen had been anxiously awaiting this day, both excited at the prospect of finally getting to try her hand at magic and terrified she would fail at it. In their time together, Elowen had come to learn how intelligent and scholarly Loros was. She would hate to fail so spectacularly in front of him that he no longer thought the same of her.

Quickly, she hurried to the dining quarters. As she entered the room and saw Loros, a wide smile broke across her face. “Good morning!” she lilted, taking her seat. “How did you sleep?”
 
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A bright, albeit sleepy smile graced Loros' face the moment Elowen spoke, as did a boyish flush that creeped up his cheeks as he glanced over and then away from her lips and her intricate braids. Thankfully, the chef was entering just as she made herself comfortable and Loros was spared a moment to collect his thoughts and sensibilities. In truth he hadn't much sleep, restless half the night as he carved away, enchantments rippling under his breath, unable to contain his excitement at dawn's gift; but he looked ready.

"Very well," Which wasn't a lie in his estimation— the few hours spent gently rocking in his cabin upon the plump, fluffed cushioned was the best sleep he had since leaving home. The chef placed an elaborate platter between them, bowing as he interrupted to present their breakfast. Centrally, a large tureen filled with fish stew stood on tiny starfish legs, surrounded by a fresh green salad with individual toppings, as well as a swell of fresh baked bread, delicately sliced, each drizzled with dandelion oil and aged cheese. A runic-chilled pitcher filled with morning wine waited to be tapped, just as the bowls waited to be filled.

"Did you sleep well?" Loros asked after thanking the chef for his work. He poured each of them a goblet of wine and a bowl of stew a piece, "Be sure to eat as much as you can, you'll be hungry before noon. Practicing magic eats right through it."
 
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Elowen lit up even further upon seeing Loros’ smile. She couldn’t help but notice him quickly observing her, eyes lingering the longest on her lips and hair. She was often guilty of the same, finding herself swept away from her studies and instead studying Loros’ face, especially his lips. She just wanted so desperately to kiss him, but every time the moment presented itself, her nerves got the best of her.

“I did! I started to feel a little seasick again, but one of the crew gave me an herb to help with it. He said it was called meridian root. I looked it up in my botany book and fun fact, it actually originated on an island far north of Iskiela. It was brought here by traders over one thousand years ago! Isn’t that interesting?”

Elowen grabbed her spoon and took a bite of her soup. It was salty, but not overly so. Still, she felt the need to grab her wine after a few bites.

“What’s first on our agenda for magic lessons today?”
 
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