Playing with Fire

Blue eyes refused to move from her plate as dessert was placed down in front of her, fingertips pressing harshly into the tops of her thighs where they laid on her lap as Sven leaned in close and began to murmur to her. She wished to believe him, to take his words at face value and let go of what had happened the night before and what was said between then and now. But she was scared to. His words had added depth to a wound that had manifested during the week leading up to her almost-execution. Carina was all too aware that she was dangling by an already-fraying rope, and each difficulty that they went through, without her being able to go to him for comfort and knowing forgiveness would never be shown, was like a knife slowly sawing through the last of the thinning threads.

She would have flinched at his louder voice, including Andrew in the conversation, if it weren't for her carefully controlled expression. For the same reason Sven kept his voice lowered, Carina ensured that her expression remained neutral. As he included Andrew back into the conversation, Carina reached for her glass of water, taking a sip to momentarily compose herself, albeit inwardly.

It all suddenly became so unbearable. His apology, heartfelt or not, still effected her as they would considering she still held a deep love for him and desperate desire to have him forgive her and welcome her back into his arms. Then him saying how wonderful a mother she was, when Carina knew that wasn't true. A wonderful mother wouldn't have broken up a family; a wonderful mother would have told her child's father everything; a wonderful mother would never have put her child in harms way.

Then the talk of Lorcan's lungs, waking them in the middle of the night. If he hadn't done that over a week ago... would either of them still be alive and talking to Andrew in that moment?

Carina took another hasty sip of water to combat the rising nausea that bubbled in her throat, the dessert in front of her no longer looking so appetising. The heels of her palms kneaded against the tops of her thighs for a moment once she put her glass down, her head beginning to throb with the tension she was creating within herself.

"If you'll excuse me, a day of staring down at the same cursive lines is playing havoc with my recovering baby brain and given me quite the headache. I think I'll retire early, this evening." She interrupted Sven softly, smiling to both men apologetically, "Perhaps you could both enjoy a drink together in the sun parlour once dinner is done, the sunset is just gorgeous in that room, Andrew." She gave the other man a brief slither of attention, out of politeness considering she was leaving rather abruptly.

Pushing herself to her feet, Carina placed her napkin on the table besides her untouched dessert and slipped out from her chair. She didn't leave immediately, however, knowing she still had to play her part. She lightly rested her hand on the back of Sven's as she leaned down to graze her lips against his cheek, but not daring to linger for too long despite wanting to, a lump forming in her throat at the mere scent of his aftershave and soap. She didn't wish to make him uncomfortable.

Andrew had stood out of respect for his monarch, as he had always been told to do, when Carina gave her excuses and stood to leave. His napkin was clutched between his hands, replacing the cap he had strangled earlier in the day. He gave her a quiet, understanding smile, nodding simply in response and acknowledgement of her words. He only sat again when Carina had left the room, clearing his throat quietly afterwards and taking a sip of water before continuing with his own pudding.

To the outsider, he had noticed nothing out of the ordinary between the couple, having thought nothing of Sven leaning in close to his wife to whisper something privately to her. He had simply carried on with his food, not particularly interested in finding out or listening in. Besides, the food was too good to ignore.

"When will you know whose, ah, powers he has taken? I mean... I started showing mine when I was.... six? I'm not sure if that was the same for you or if it changes between people. Is there a chance he could have both? Is that even a thing?" He questioned, just to make conversation, looking back to Sven.
 
Though the pretence of a happy, blissful marriage proceeded without fault (and from Andrew's apparent obliviousness, proceeded with success too), Sven had to fight not to show the intermingling disappointment and mild irritation from appearing at his wife's decision to depart for the evening. He wanted to understand her reasoning, perhaps that she was as tired and mentally exhausted as she claimed to be, but she could have chosen any point within the dinner to excuse herself - such as when Sven had made little effort to disguise the digs she would inevitably pick up on and acknowledge.

She had chosen to sit through such immature insults (because they were petulant, even Sven could admit that much) with a suitably neutral expression - yet only saw fit to leave the dinner table after his apology, one in which possibly opened up the doors to a reunion of their love for one another? The love hadn't disappeared but it certainly wasn't as present in their lives as it had previously been, but his words, genuine and surprisingly vulnerable, had presented a chance to renew what had been left to dwindle.

He knew he had played a big part in dismissing the marriage, being the one to make the clear statement that it was of convenience, but such statements were made in anger and didn't overshadow the love he always held for her.

But how could he genuinely believe that she too felt that love when she had chosen to dismiss herself the moment he presented his feelings? To refuse to reply to them but make a clear effort to smile and engage with Andrew was just further proof (to a man racked with paranoid thoughts like Sven) that she wasn't willing to work on what they had.

That instead, her mind was made up and by making such an effort with his brother, she was signalling that she was no longer interested inworking on the marital vows she had made. It was all he could genuinely gather from her behaviour, the lack of words from her offering no hope he could cling to. He only had himself to blame, of course, but that didn't make the perceived realisation any easier to digest.

"...I'm not sure if he could inherit both of our powers. Such a thing would be... incredible, actually. But with no Ignisian or Eirian of noble birth ever having a child together before, there's no precedent set to base predictions on. Lorcan... is the first, I suppose. He could easily inherit my fire and his mother's ice. I don't wish that on him, though. It's mean more intense training, a life of constantly holding back two devastating elements instead of one-- I couldn't actively wish that for my son," the King eventually responded once he was brought back to the conversation, setting his eyes onto his brother's with a quiet smile. He didn't wish to dwell on the matter with his wife a moment longer when all it would do was disrupt the chance to bond, privately, with Andrew.

But it was easier said than done, everything he said causing his thoughts to drift to Carina and the state their marriage was currently in. How things had just deteriorated between them in such a short amount of time was heart-breaking, devastating really, but he didn't wish to drag Andrew into those problems. Not when they only had a week together.

"Either way, Lorcan will receive training and my -and Carina's- support. He'll be just fine. I'm rather hoping he follows his mother, however. As you know, fire's... not an easy element to control. It's too wild; too unpredictable."
 
On the contrary to Sven's thoughts of disappointment and paranoia, there was nothing more Carina wanted than to reunite with him. She was desperate to feel his warmth again, rather than (despite having Natalia as a friend now) be shut out, desolate and alone. Her heart had ached during his apology which, as she replayed it over and over in her mind on the way back to her room, she came to realise held more sincerity and depth to it than she originally gave it credit for. She had worn her heart on a sleeve for him, even during the week leading up to the day she thought he would give the order for her execution. It was the night he had spat such cruel things at her, things she considered came from a dark place of honesty considering they were words spoken while drunk, that she began to close herself off.

His words, at dinner, in front of a guest... while inappropriate timing, as it didn't allow her to open the situation up to discussion, had still been said. He had still offered that olive branch. But what he had said, while he didn't realise it, had drilled home the final realisation that she didn't deserve that from him. He had been hurt because of her, almost killed. Lorcan had also been in the firing line, even if Lauren and Thorin didn't have the intention to murder the baby prince, she didn't know that.

She didn't deserve his forgiveness, she realised that now, after her countless pleading and tears and apologies and wishes for things to go back to normal. She didn't deserve his love. She didn't deserve the family she had once worked so hard for. They were all better off without her in their lives. But she was too selfish, she had to painfully acknowledge, to leave the castle and therefore those she loved within it. Despite not being certain how she would ever be able to look at Sven without also seeing what she had caused.

It was why she sought out punishment for herself, knowing she would never get it from anyone else. A sharpened edge of ice became her new way of keeping the demons satisfied.

Andrew, unknowing to the turmoil and pain being experienced by the couple, simply nodded along naively to what the king was saying, clearly thinking nothing of Carina's exit. In all honesty, he was surprised that the king hadn't joined his wife in the early retirement from the evening. While he knew little of the attack and the injuries Sven sustained, from what was said earlier by Natalia about him resting during the day, Andrew could only assume that his brother was still needing time and rest.

"I'm sure you'd both be able to handle it, though... I mean, f'there's anythin' we common folk've learned over the last few months is how good a team you both are together." He chuckled, reaching for his own wine (which had been replaced with a dessert wine) to sip, "If ya can keep a kingdom happy, you can definitely keep a kid happy. Though from what I've 'eard from friends, they seem like a lot more work." He joked, chuckling with a grin occupying his expression.

"I'd love to... help Lorcan in anyway I can. Just-- just puttin' that out there. I ain't no tutor or swords master or nothin' like that but... if you an' Carina ever want him to get to know the people, see things without people bein' blinded by his crown, I'd be... I'd be honoured to host him in my own home. Let him stay for a few weeks. 'E can help me with my stable work, get his hands a bit dirty, learn what s'really like for people like... well, like me."
 
Though Carina's decision to leave the table had caused thoughts to flame instantaneously within him, pondering everything from whether his marriage was a lost cause to whether her nice demeanour with Andrew was indicative of something more - or at least whether it held the possibility of developing into intimacy. He didn't want to believe the former or the latter, wanting to put all his energy into saving the marriage - but he couldn't really do that if her eye had strayed to Andrew; a possibility he couldn't stop tormenting himself with.

There were, after all, plenty of positives to Andrew - he was handsome, down-to-earth, removed from the pressures of being a royal, and when Sven had recently made Carina's life anything but pleasant, he couldn't blame her for seeking some comfort or even just an outsider to the mess to take her mind off everything with.

He just despised the idea of it spiralling into a romantic longing... or even a friendship. Under other circumstances, he wouldn't interfere in Carina developing a friendship with anyone, especially not his own brother, but when he currently had nobody to surround himself with who he could trust to always be at his side, it wasn't... ideal to lose securing a bond with his brother if he split his time between him and Carina.

As Natalia was currently doing.

He also didn't want his own paranoia to disrupt how he regarded Andrew. He wanted him around, now and in the future, but such a desire clashed fiercely with the fear that the more he kept his brother around, the more likely it was that he and Carina would... enjoy one another's company a bit too much for his liking.

He shook his head to himself to prevent himself dwelling on the conundrum, determined to just enjoy Andrew's company now he currently had it to himself. Ultimately, the man was his brother and he couldn't allow his unfounded concerns to jeopardise a relationship with a family member he wanted to build trust, familiarity and love with.

"Hm? Oh, well, obviously that's a matter for the future but I see no reason why we couldn't make something like that work. I want Lorcan to be grounded, I suppose, and to work for what he wants, rather than be handed it on a silver platter. I'll inevitably spoil him rotten but... I think it would be ideal to have him get his hands dirty alongside his uncle, learning to appreciate how hard civilians work-- we'll keep it in mind for when he's older," he agreed as he let his attention drift back to the present reality, managing a genuine smile at the offer. He hadn't entirely dismissed the possibility that Andrew was to be trusted, that had to be established over time, but he did feel, in his gut, that his brother was no trouble.

Hopefully time would provide that evidence properly and allow Lorcan to, one day, be able to spend that quality time with his uncle.

"Of course, in time, perhaps you'd want to move to Ignis to be closer to us all? Perhaps you'd even agree to receiving the title of Prince and moving into the castle-- but again, that's a matter for the future. No need to bombard you with such concerns right now," the King continued with a light, genuine laugh to his words, sipping form his own dessert wine with a hum in appreciation.

"How about we finish our dessert and then take up Carina's suggestion? Have some wine and those cigars in the sun parlour before bed? I could ask Natalia-- ah, Miss Bauer, to join us; she might be a little irked with me if I didn't invite her along. She's a dear friend of mine and I confess I haven't quite... treated her the best as of late. But you're my brother; I'd be happy to sit alone with you if you'd prefer not to have another person sit in on our bonding time?"
 
"Move to Ignis... well now that... that would be somethin' I'd consider of course now we've.... gotten to know each other. But a man like me only really moves if there's work. I ain't ever considered movin' just to... well, just to. 'Course I wanna be closer to you, my brother, but... I still gotta make a livin', y'know?" Andrew cautiously explained, not wanting to cause upset or offend Sven or have the King believe he didn't want to be closer to the new family he had.

Being a rather family-based man, even if it was only just his mother, the lack of a father figure only instilled that into him more. He couldn't ever imagine abandoning a woman and his own blood like the late King had done. He couldn't begin to think about not even reaching out to that child as the years went on. Andrew was keen to have a family of his own, but with the lack of understanding of his powers... he didn't dare allow himself that joy for the fear of one day hurting someone he loved, even if it was accidental.

So the idea of moving to Ignis to be near his brother and nephew and sister-in-law... it did appeal to him, massively. But he didn't expect handouts. He didn't expect to just move into the castle. He wanted work - the idea of being in the castle with nothing to do was what deterred him. Not to mention, horses were also a big part of his life. He had earned his position through hardwork and grit. He wasn't prepared to give all that up.

"I-- I appreciate the offer though, Sven. Truly. I just... I ain't able to imagine myself in this... kind of life. The food I could get used to, an' the beddin' an' the constant hot water," he chuckled, leaving a little of his dessert as it became too sickly and he too full, "But I'd nothin' to do... I ain't into sittin' around idle-- not sayin' you do, cause you have your duties but... if I were to move here... become a Prince... I'd stick out like a sore thumb. Actin' like I do, talkin' like I do... wantin' to work in the stables an' bein shooed out cause it ain't no longer my place." He smiled wryly, "I just... I ain't sure. I'd be like a fish outta water."

He did, however, perk up at the mention of Natalia, the smile becoming softer as his mind immediately became flooded with images of the woman and her voice. "That'd be great-- please do invite Miss Bauer, s'important I get to know her as much as it is for me to learn about my own brother, 'specially if you're both as close as you say." He commented, concern momentarily filling him as he wondered if his interest in - and desire to pursue - Miss Bauer wasn't the best if she was his brother's close friend.

That was a worry for another time, however, as he could surely become friendly with the woman for the time being. Their playful teasing and banter already something he was eager to pick back up again.
 
Despite the suggestion (and the genuine, well-meaning intent behind it), Sven wasn't so naive that he believed his brother would uproot his entire life and move to Ignis anytime soon - especially when his lifestyle would undeniably change by doing so. He would have to transition from a life of hard, manual labour where he worked hard for everything he had... to lounging in the castle having innumerable members of staff rush to tend to his every need and desire.

If Sven was ripped of everything he knew and placed in the village Andrew grew up in, it would be such a drastic change of lifestyle that he wasn't sure how effectively he would manage it. Even if Andrew would be taken out of that hardship into a life of luxury, the change would still be immense - and his brother didn't exactly seem like the sort of man who was comfortable sitting back and not working for what he wanted to achieve in life.

Even if Sven judged the other's existence to currently be about survival first and foremost (which, given that fact, astounded him why Andrew wouldn't leap at the chance to escape such struggles), Andrew seemed to be content with that; at ease with the workload on his shoulders.

It didn't make much sense to the young King, but he didn't see fit to convince the other of abandoning all he had worked for when he was happy with it.

"Yes, well, I think you should still consider the offer. As I said, there's no rush, but do consider it, Andrew. You don't have to live an existence whereby you just relax all day. We have horses here that need taking care of, I'd be more than willing to give you that job if you did move here - regardless of whether you took the title of Prince. But... give it some thought, hm?" He encouraged with a smile, deciding that while he wouldn't make any effort to persuade the other (in fear of that being misconstrued as manipulation and perpetuating past characteristics he wanted to leave firmly in the past) he could at least leave the offer on the table to be contemplated in Andrew's own time.

Setting aside his empty plate contently, he waited for the dishes to be cleared before beckoning the butler in close to murmur a request to collect Natalia from her room and accompany her to the parlour. Given the lateness of the evening, he assumed his adviser had retreated to her bedroom in preparation for an early night - but he also assumed she would abandon such plans if it meant spending time in his company that wasn't dominated by work and formalities.

At least, he hoped she would.

"...Let's get settled in the sun parlour; Natalia will be along shortly, I imagine. She and I have been friends for several years now - she came as a maid but she quickly rose through the ranks. You've met her - her tenaciousness was obviously going to get her places."
 
Soon enough, the two men were in the sun parlour with a small, silver tray of decanters full of different spirits flanked by three glass tumblers. A matching silver tub, accompanied by miniature tongs, held ice cubes, should the drinkers desire. A smooth, polished mahogany box sat beside the tray, which would inevitably hold the cigars the king mentioned previously. All the items of the finest quality, and the king's personal favourites, of course.

As they had walked, they had talked, but Andrew's mind was already whirling over the offer that had been provided by the king, his brother. That concept alone was still an odd one for him to get his head around, as such was the one of him potentially holding the title of prince someday. Although he wasn't sure he would ever be able to accept it. He wasn't overly keen on the idea of people suddenly treating him differently, and that things would become handed to him on a silver platter (ironically, considering what had been waiting for them in the sun parlour).

However for Sven to offer him the opportunity to take a job at the palace and live in comfort while still keeping himself busy... it felt like the best of both worlds. But it came down to the fact that the chance was only being extended because of the lineage he had finally been told about. He didn't want to agree and to just be plonked down into a position without having worked for it or proven himself first. That wasn't who he was.

On the other hand... Andrew was also well aware of how badly his mother would have scolded him for not taking such an opportunity. He could have the best of both worlds. How many people could say that they were able to experience that? How could he turn down the offering of a new life with a brother he didn't even know he had, a nephew and a sister-in-law.

And maybe even... Natalia.

It would be stupid to deny the attraction he felt towards the adviser. Her coolness and aloof behaviour only served to intrigue him more, and her work ethic seemed akin to his. She loved her work, as did he. She was dedicated and clearly passionate. And he wanted to find out more about her.

"The... offer you extended..." Andrew spoke eventually after a brief silence once both men had fetched themselves a glass of their chosen drink, the younger of the two settling into the armchair he had picked earlier that day during his audience with the queen, "...Would it... I mean, I don't need to really consider if I want'ta be near my family... family's the most important thing to me an'... I'd like to keep workin' on gettin' to know you an' bein' a... younger brother an' an uncle..."

He cleared his throat, somewhat awkwardly, and fidgeted in his chair as he tried to think of how to word his next few sentences, "But I... I don't want nothin' handed to me. I want to earn it, y'know, earn the right to stay here. So... So I was thinkin'... what if I did... actually have a trial here. To work in the stables I mean. Not tell the... Head Groom or whoever who I actually am... just use the Queen's excuse. Let them think I'm actually 'ere for a week trial an' if, at the end of the week, they're happy with my work an' are willin' to take me on - with no knowledge of who I am - then I'll stay. How does... does that sound... would that... would that be alrigh'?"
 
Having only conversed in small talk since leaving the dining table (though the more casual turn in the conversation was interesting nonetheless), Sven knew not to allow himself to grow too comfortable in the easing of more serious discussions when they were bound to rear their head once they were settled within the parlour.

The King quietly took to his seat overlooking the castle gardens, observing the landscape he was immensely proud of, perhaps even more so at night when the rivers of lava streaming down the volcanic mountains offered (in his eyes) an appealing backdrop to it. The outdoor lanterns illuminated the garden itself, albeit not too harshly: on nights he couldn't sleep, Sven liked to venture to the parlour to sit beyond the garden cloaked in a subtle light that allowed him to both enjoy the scenery without breaking the almost magical illusion it presented in the later hours.

He couldn't devote all his time to proudly drinking in the exterior to the castle when, as he had prepared himself for, the conversation returned to the earlier proposal. He hadn't anticipated the other to form an opinion on it just yet, assuming he would just broach the subject in the search of further clarification - but Sven couldn't hide the smile at the decision his brother had fallen upon. He liked ironing out details as soon as he could, rather than be left in limbo, waiting on an answer - and while he didn't exactly get that to the fullest extent, he could at least be grateful that Andrew had given him something to work with.

"Working on a trial basis with your identity, your true one as my brother, concealed... It's not exactly conventional but I suppose nothing about this situation is, is it? I also find it odd that you seem to want to hold off accepting the privilege of a title and instead work your fingers to the bone but I won't judge you, Andrew. I find your work ethic admirable, in fact - so of course, that sounds like a good idea, assuming you will still be dining with my wife and I each night. I'm willing to go along with your plan but I would also like to spend time with you, Andrew. To bond; build up that brotherly relationship."

The caveated statement presented, he allowed himself to ease back comfortably now they had reached some sort of conclusion. It wasn't yet a guaranteed one (all could change if the trial period in the stables didn't end as they wanted it to) but it was enough to settle on for the night, leaving the next period of time devoted to unwinding with a glass of whiskey (his favourite tipple at the moment) and a cigar. Feeling his craving grow for the latter, he groaned under his breath at the pressure brought to his abdomen as he reached for the box to collect the expensive cigars, lighting them both with a tap of his finger; a level of control on his power he wished to help Andrew develop with time.

"Here; enjoy. I'm sure you will. It's perhaps the one habit I inherited from our father that I don't necessarily mind: smoking. Of course, Carina detests it and forever pesters me to quit, but... it's a habit I find too delicious to deprive myself of. Besides, I live in a kingdom of ash and fire. I doubt smoking a few cigarettes a day will make much difference--"

"You'll be surprised, Sven," quipped an interjective voice, the quiet but quick tone belonging to a sleepy Natalia as she thanked the butler accompanying her before venturing fully into the parlour. Having been settled in bed, on the cusp of falling to her subconsciousness, she was struggling to pull herself out of that sleepiness fully... but perhaps the embarrassment of being present in her nightgown in front of Andrew (who was effectively a stranger to her still) jolted her awake. Her eyes briefly widened in momentary horror at her informal appearance, a hand reaching to nervously push back a strand of her hair which had been released from its intricate plaited bun, falling over her shoulders in glossy waves.

Though, not wanting Sven to pick up on her embarrassment, she forced herself to relax, pushed back her shoulders to help with that endeavour, and settled on the couch with a careful nod.

"I do apologise if you were sleeping, Miss Bauer--"

"Oh, don't tease, Sven - Andrew was being respectful and I... encouraged the use of those manners. Not all men would care to ask me how I would prefer to be referred to--"

"I understand that, Natalia - but it is a tad funny, you can't deny me that," snorted Sven as he forewent the formality in favour of the familiarity he had with his friend. Andrew was hardly someone whose presence demanded that Sven stick to his formal behaviours - he felt he could afford to relax that in his company, act more casual, as Natalia seemed to do given her referral to the King by his name, rather than by his title. "In this relaxed setting, can he call you by your name?"

"...I... of course, yes. Natalia is fine, Andrew. I assure you," she clarified with another faint nod of her head, her eyes eventually drifting to the man. "How did dinner go, if you don't mind me asking? I'm sure your first experience with the food prepare for royalty was a pleasant one?"
 
Feeling more relaxed himself that they had come to a form of an agreement, Andrew smiled warmly and sank back in his seat. The glass of whiskey in hand drawing towards his chest before it lowered so his elbow could rest on the arm of the chair. There seemed to be no offence taken at Andrew not wanting the easy life, so he felt no inclination to explain himself or hurriedly make sure he had caused no insult to his brother. He knew that, one day as it did with him, the truth would out and attitudes and behaviours towards him would differ, that he would take a step back and not work as hard as he had done over the years of his life, but he was in no real rush.

His work was most obviously his life, since it provided him one. It helped him afford to keep clothes on his back, food in his cupboards and enjoy a few simple things. Not to mention, it helped to pass the day. He couldn't imagine not having anything to do all day, except to watch the clock tick away the sunlit hours with all that time on his hands.

He had naturally accepted the condition to join the king and queen for dinner, nodding eagerly and expressing such agreed desire to get to know his brother more. "We can still have the day together tomorrow, if ya like? I don't have to start immediately, we can have a full day gettin' to know each other more tomorrow... then I can start that trial the followin' day."

An excitement was present within Andrew now, at all that was being planned for them both. If all worked out well and came to fruition, they would both get what they wanted.

However, he allowed the conversation to fall away, graciously accepting the cigar with a smile. He knew nothing really of the quality of cigars, and thus didn't pretend to, instead leaning back into his chair with a soft, almost contented sigh.

He shot straight back up, though, at the sound of Natalia's voice interrupting Sven. He looked towards the door, gaze flickering wide at the sight of her in her nightgown and elegant braid cascading over her shoulder, until he schooled his expression to one of propriety and respect. Although that didn't stop the slight warmth blooming in his cheeks in mortification of his own reaction.

Since the king had already explained the relationship between the two, Andrew thought nothing of Natalia and Sven referring to each other by their first names. Not to mention, he was too busy attempting not to stare at Miss Bauer, whom he couldn't help but find even more attractive in the natural state she was in. To occupy himself, Andrew raised his whiskey to his lips, taking a sip and clearing his throat quietly after, dragging his gaze from the woman to look down at the golden liquid within his glass.

At the sound of his name, the younger man sharply looked up, glancing between the two before his gaze naturally settled on Natalia where it even softened, a matching smile taking place on his lips.

"If you're sure... Natalia," her name seemed to roll perfectly off his tongue, and he enjoyed it, "'Though I ain't promisin' to not go back to callin' you Miss Bauer in the mornin'." He chuckled, reaching forward to flick some of the ash from the end of the cigar into the ashtray. "Dinner was... I ain't ever tasted anythin' so good in my life. It was a real treat, I'm... I'm real grateful for all you hearin' me out an' welcomin' me in."
 
A similar blush had spread across Natalia's cheeks in spite of her desperation to force such a colour from appearing there - and without the sun beating in on the parlour, she didn't even have the excuse of being hot to rely upon. She didn't want to examine why such bashfulness had occurred when it would only open up all of the admissions about Andrew that she preferred to keep locked away at the back of her mind - she had acknowledged his handsomeness, his work ethic and his kindness, but focusing on such traits wasn't of any benefit to her.

It would encourage her to get distracted, filling her head up with thoughts of a man who she had no need to think about in any informal way. He wasn't destined to be anything more than an acquaintance, perhaps a friend if he was a frequent presence in the castle in the future... or so she had to force herself to believe. Allowing any contemplation to occur over whether there existed any feeling for him that went beyond that platonic aspect was unwelcome; a distraction to her work and her duties.

Those had to be her priority. She was disrupting them enough with her newfound friendship with Carina; there wasn't any time she could also devote to befriending and growing close to Andrew, however much she felt her heart flutter at such a thought.

It just... wasn't feasible. Pushing him away with coldness wasn't ideal, and not a plan she felt comfortable pursuing when the constant switches in personality around him would be unfair, but what was the alternative? Allowing her shields to fall and inevitably grow distracted from her responsibilities by thoughts of him?

She grimaced to herself at the complicated and often conflicted thoughts she ha to contend with now, problems she wished she didn't have to consider, but it was a trouble for another day. Unaware that Andrew might be a more permanent figure in Ignis than she first thought him to be, she didn't think she had to deal with the burgeoning attraction she felt toward him for too much longer - and so allowed herself to relax a tad, confident that she could get through the week in his presence without caving to the distraction he was becoming to her.

"I was sure you'd enjoy the meal, it... is remarkable quality," she smiled, happy to focus on a simple conversation topic that didn't require her to think too much... but to avoid blushing any deeper, she did her best to avoid glancing too often in Andrew's direction, unsure she could quite cope with the sight of his blush either. "A far cry away from the meals I was brought up on, anyway. They were hearty but lacking in the, ah... flavour. Simple meals designed to fill our stomachs and nothing more. I didn't even know of seasoning until I arrived here, it didn't exist in my household growing up. My mother's many things but a chef she is not."

"I often forget that you grew up in that sort of environment," remarked Sven as he tapped off the ash from his cigar quietly. If he noticed the bashfulness from his brother and Natalia (and it hadn't been all that subtle) he declined to mention it. "You could easily have been brought up in a noble household, you hold yourself with that grace - but then again, you do rather lose that gloss when you get angry, Natalia. Your accent slips in then when your anger show itself, it's rather humorous. I don't wish you to see that however, Andrew. Our Natalia can be rather fearful when she's mad~"
 
At the blush that had blossomed within Natalia's own cheeks, Andrew's smile broadened, although he did briefly have to hope it wasn't because of her own embarrassment at what she was wearing. He didn't wish for her to be uncomfortable, wearing such an intimate garment in front of him, when clearly she hadn't been expecting his company. At that realisation, Andrew suddenly became uncomfortable at the possibility of Natalia's discomfort, and frantically thought of a way to ease that potential reality.

Soon the young man was standing as the two continued to chatter, placing the cigar in his mouth as he pulled off his dinner jacket. With a brief thought to himself, as if considering if he wished do draw attention to himself in such a way, he finally stepped forward and offered it to the adviser, "I weren't sure if you'd be cold in that alone... besides, feels wrong that me an' the king 'ere are both so dressed up - seems like a dinner jacket can make anythin' seem fancy." He teased, taking the cigar out of his mouth while grinning warmly and making a joke at his own expense, "Maybe you'll make a new fashion statement with this combination."

Happy to leave his jacket with Natalia, regardless of if she put it on or not, Andrew returned to his seat and his drink. He didn't dare act in shock at the prospect of Natalia not being of noble birth like he had originally suspected. Sven had mentioned she had worked her way up from being a maid to an adviser, and thus he had thought nothing more of it. But hearing it truly confirmed, that was another matter.

"I've no doubt about that-- experiencin' her all aloof an' cool was enough for me. Could'a sent me runnin' for the hills with that piercing gaze alone." He commented, the grin melting into an easy smile as he continued with his light jesting, "It'll take it as bein' in my best interest to not vex Miss Bauer durin' my time here."

Taking a sip of his drink, Andrew then glanced between the two, head tilting slightly, "...So how did you two come to meet? Wassit when you became a maid here, Natalia? Or did you both know each other before?"
 
The show of kindness in offering his jacket across to Natalia for the benefit of her warmth was something Sven was less capable of ignoring, his brow arching in the inevitable acknowledgement. He had witnessed the blushing cheeks the two seemed to simultaneously experience, but chose to believe that it was as a result of the adviser's informal apparel - given her propensity for professionalism at all times, being seen in such relaxed attire, at her most vulnerable, was bound to embarrass her and thereby Andrew.

But the blushing seemed to be a connotation of something more... intimate, offering a hint of attraction lingering between the two, however quiet it was currently in its infancy.

The thought was rather sweet - until Sven considered what he thought to be hints of flirtation between Carina and his brother at the dinner table. No such flirtation existed, of course, but moments of genuine kindness had become warped by paranoia and fear in Sven's mind, allowing him to misconstrue the most platonic of moments as something more intimate in nature, however blatantly untrue and incorrect that was. He tried not to dwell on that fact when the time in the parlour was supposed to be focused on bonding with his brother, not dismantling any relationship they might go on to have with unsubstantiated fears.

Because he recognised his paranoia and therefore knew that he might be creating something out of nothing... but the slight possibility that this wasn't paranoia existed regardless, and he couldn't just waive that aside as easily as he would like.

Fortunately, Natalia seemed oblivious to his inward struggle, far too occupied with overcoming how sweet the offer from Andrew was. It only made her blush deepen but she found herself not caring too much about that now, not when she preferred to focus her attention on just how much of a gentleman the other was. Just because he had been raised in an environment far from the luxury of a castle didn't mean he wasn't capable of chivalrous acts - and in fact, he possessed much more gentlemanliness than those born and raised amongst nobility, as the former Kings of Ignis and their indecency and piggishness proved.

The playful digs at her severity didn't offend her, far from it. She smiled in shared amusement at her perceived coldness and sharpness, holding back the chuckle that had threatened to leave her lips - she might be prepared to show a more relaxed perception of herself now, but she didn't want to let all her barriers drop; not just yet.

"No, that was when we first met," she confirmed as she slipped the jacket around herself, a smile offered across to Andrew in continued gratitude for the kindness. "I was a child, really; in my teenage years. Sven had no need to get to know me when I was just a maid here but... we bonded, I suppose. The three of us were as tight as anything-- I-I mean, ah--"

"Thorin, the third member of our dynamic trio, is now dead," clarified Sven with a tight smile, taking a long drag of his cigar to calm the pang of hurt in his chest. "...I suppose there's no reason to hide this from you, Andrew: Thorin plotted to kill me and was the man responsible for plunging a knife into me countless times, so... I'm rather strict when it comes to making new friends these days. Hence the harsh treatment I gave you earlier tonight, but-- I can see you're a nice man, I trust you not to stick a dagger in me. I'd hope not, at least. It'd be a shame if my brother tried to kill me too."
 
Andrew tore his gaze away from Natalia at Sven's rather blunt explanation, blinking with alarm at what was said. His lips began to part to offer his condolences, however at the sight of his brother's forced smile... Andrew refrained, allowing his mouth to slowly close again. His eyes lingered on the king, the cigar burning away in his hand while the silence grew ever more suffocating.

"O-Of course not. I-I-- You didn't have to tell me that, Your Maj-- Sven, ah, if it was too, uh, too painful. I can't... I don't..." He floundered for a response, fingers tightening around the cigar as he attempted to calm himself and get his head around what news had just landed on his plate. He didn't expect to be made privy to such delicate information, not so soon. He supposed he ought to take it as a positive sign - that the king truly did believe him to be who he was, but that the same time... Andrew still could not be sure if this was some test to see how he would react or behave.

Quickly, the half-blooded royal knocked back the rest of his whiskey and leaned forward to place the empty glass on the tray, grimacing as he swallowed the burning liquid. "I can't... begin to imagine what that must've been like... an' I... I completely understand an' respect that that's the reason why thin's may have been... more... hostile when I got 'ere." He glanced to Natalia, making sure to include her in the grand summary of things. He supposed she too must have been felt the knock on effect of the betrayal, and thus her attitudes earlier began to make sense.

"I-- I can assure ya though, I ain't go no intention of doin' any... stabbin'. I mean, uh, I get anxious an' feel bad at the thought of havin' to help get the horses shoed, you-you know, with them nails bein' hammered into their hooves? An'-an' they don't even feel that shi-- that stuff!" Andrew gave a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, the other flicking more ash from the cigar and onto the tray.

To stop himself from talking, he took a drag from the smoking object, releasing the small cloud he took in slowly through his nose in a bid to compose himself.

"H-How are you now, though... Sven?" He questioned genuinely, the slight hesitation only necessary as he fought to stop himself from calling Sven by his royal title during his tense, uncomfortable moment, "Y-You look well recovered... everyone seems to think you are too-- word on the street is all about how quick you've gotten back to your feet."

There was a lot of talk on the streets, in the taverns and pubs, and in the town markets across Ignis and her territories about the attack on the king and his miraculous recovery. Since there was barely any information, given the ban on such gossip leaving the castle, the people had gone about making their own assumptions and rumours. As any normal person would.
 
As much as Sven had convinced himself that his half-brother was someone he could trust, unable to truly believe that a cold, sociopathic manipulator existed beneath the friendly, down-to-earth exterior, his decision to mention Thorin had been as Andrew had briefly pondered. It was a test to see how he reacted, whether it be with genuine shock or an attempt to feign such an emotion.

He wanted, desperately, to trust him, but Thorin and especially Lauren had proven that Sven was capable of being grandly deceived; of having the wool pulled over his eyes. The attack was hurtful physically, the pain undeniable everytime he moved, but it was far more hurtful mentally - he no longer knew who he could trust when those closest to him had spent so many weeks plotting his demise. Though Carina had backed out of such plans, the others hadn't: they had proceeded to disturb him from his slumber by slashing at his flesh with sharp weapons, Thorin's movements not stopping even as the unmistakable scent of blood filled the room.

The memories were nightmarish, horrifying... and he needed to know whether Andrew was capable of such an act too. Deep down, he knew his assumption that his brother's purpose for being in Ignis was entirely innocent but he needed the small voice of paranoia arguing differently to be quashed before they stood any chance of truly moving forward.

And from how disbelieving Andrew appeared at the news, how urgent he was to assure his brother that he held no such cruel intention, Sven could be confident that his assumption and growing trust in him wasn't misplaced.

"I'm aware you hold no such ill intent, Andrew. I trust you. As incredulous as I am at that realisation, trusting a stranger after my own best friend was the one to attack me... I do trust you. Hell, you're hardly a stranger, are you? Technically you might be, but we're brothers, bonded by blood. We aren't strangers, not... truly," he smiled quietly, the heartfelt words offering a rare show of vulnerability. It hadn't been quite as rare before the attack, when he had taken to the Ignisian crowds with that air of sincerity and openness - but naturally, such characteristics had retreated when his life had almost been unfairly ripped from him.

But Andrew was deserving of experiencing some of that transparency and seeing that side to Sven.

It was why he didn't automatically waive off the concern with a laugh. He was hardly going to admit the extent of his pain when he wasn't even prepared to do so with his own doctor... but he also couldn't pretend to be in fighting shape when that was a bold-faced lie.

"I... am on the right path to recovery, I feel. But I am not quite there yet, let's say that. A little setback occurred today. Not to be too graphic about it but... I stupidly attempted to stitch my wounds up; the misplaced confidence of a drunken fool. Inevitably, such stitches fell apart, so... I'm sure you can imagine the sort of pain I was in earlier today. But I'm doing quite fine now; I'll be right as rain in no time, Andrew, don't fret."

"It is best for, ah... news of Sven's injuries to remain between us, within this castle, Andrew. The kingdom and the realms beyond it don't need to know the severity of his wounds, so... some discretion on the matter would be greatly appreciated," murmured Natalia quickly, taken aback by Sven's decision to be so transparent. She had no opinion on whether it was the right thing to do or not, but she did know she had to assure Andrew wouldn't blab his mouth to anyone outside the castle - even if she knew he wouldn't ever do so purposely.

"Just... please be careful when you speak to others. Words can spill out without you meaning to, so, ah... just... please keep in mind that it's best for the world beyond these walls to believe Sven is... further along in his recovery than he is in actuality."
 
A raw grimace flickered across his features at the mention of the shoddy stitches, the young man unable to help the shudder that ran down his spine at the mere thought of taking a needle to his own body - in all honesty, the man was afraid of the bloody things, never able to look at them if they had to come near him for any reason. Hence his preference to avoid anything that would possibly cause him to have be poked by one.

His fearful imaginings of the sharp, pointy things came to an abrupt end at Natalia's voice breaking through the images his mind conjured, softly and politely requesting that what the king just said remained in total secrecy. He took his gaze away from the king to focus on the adviser, eyes lingering for a breath or two as he took a moment to admire her while reflecting on her words.

"I ain't goin' to say nothin', I promise you that. It ain't my secret to tell, besides, I ain't prepared to let anyone know how... hurt my brother is really. You were worried about my intentions comin' 'ere... I don't want no one gettin' the same ideas you lot had as your worse case scenarios." Andrew assured them both eventually, taking his gaze from Natalia to look back at Sven.

He was beginning to understand the level of hostility and the level of interrogation that he had received upon his arrival. If the king truly wasn't in the state of strength that the kingdom believed him to be, and that it was his own friends that committed such a treasonous act of utter betrayal, then how else could they have all reacted to his seemingly well-timed arrival. When Andrew had written that letter over a week ago, how was he to know what was bound to happen, but likewise how were they to know that he had innocent intentions for visiting the palace?

"With this new... knowledge in mind, I'm even more grateful for you all... allowin' me into your home. I... I ain't about to imagine that must've been easy for you all to do, after such difficult times." He took a drag from the cigar, expelling in a long, single breath as he attempted to compose himself and think of more words in which to best express himself, "If there's anythin' I can do to help durin' my time 'ere... do let me know, brother. If we're to try an' make sure you ain't goin'ta pop those stitches again, then we need to make sure you ain't goin' to do any heavy liftin' or any of that shi-- any of that kinda stuff, right?"

He smiled, quick to cover his almost-swear which was a mere force of habit considering he was still in the presence of a king and a lady.

"...If you would prefer to stay in an' rest tomorrow, Sven, rather than carriage ride, then I will be more than happy to. I'd be honoured to spend any time with you, an' don't care what we do."
 
Sven might still harbour one or two reservations regarding his brother (understandably, given he was just a stranger and trust took time to build, especially given recent circumstances in the King's life with those whose trust had, regrettably, never been questioned), but they weren't doubts over his intentions - any fear that Andrew's presence in his life had ulterior, selfish motives had been expelled. He just couldn't afford to run with that belief and welcome him into the fold without maintaining just a little reticence; some reservation to ensure replications of Thorin's behaviour didn't occur.

The last thing Sven wanted was to be on the receiving end of another brutal attack, knowing he might not get over the physical and emotional repercussions of suffering at the hand of someone he cared a great deal for a second time. As deeply as he knew, in his gut, that Andrew could be trusted... taking the time to establish that bond felt like the mature way to proceed after everything that had happened to him and his family recently.

At least then he couldn't be accused of being foolish and accepting a potential threat without doing his due diligence. He might know of Andrew's innocent intent... but he couldn't make that too clear; not yet. By the end of the week, that could easily change and he might decide that the days had presented him with enough reason to make his trust explicit, transparent... but now, on the very first day he had met Andrew? It felt premature - and potentially quite imprudent.

"These times have been rather... let's say challenging - but I assure you, I'm not prepared to put myself through the agony of tearing these stitches once more. I'll... be taking it easy, I should think I ought to be mature about this and not naively cling to the belief that I'm invulnerable. Evidently, that much has been disproven as of late," he snorted as he tapped the cigar over the silver tray for a moment, seemingly drifting off from the conversation and caught up within his own thoughts as his eyes, at first focused on the growing pile of ash, glazed slightly.

Any concern over what had abruptly captured his thoughts was dispelled the moment Sven returned to the present, perhaps just as abruptly as when he had left it.

"I apologise; I was... considering... it's no matter, I don't wish to bring the mood of our conversation down with discussions on mortality. As enjoyable as such philosophical debates can be, I don't quite think it's how to see of an enjoyable evening," he laughed again, the sound rich and, in its genuineness, undeniably joyous - the lightness was something he himself had to acknowledge when it was a direct contrast to the way he had felt might of that week: heavy, dragged down beneath depths he wasn't sure he would surpass.

Evidently, such fears were unfounded. He wasn't sure he had reached the surface just yet when the state of his marriage -and relationship with Carina- were in ruins... but there was at least some light to be found on the horizon.

"Ah, if I can't make it on the proposed journey in the carriage, then I'm sure we'll find something else to occupy ourselves with, Andrew; you're right. A little stroll in the library might be enjoyable - as detestable as some of our ancestors were, I'm sure you'd like to know the history of this kingdom? It's-- well, it's your history too; you're an Ignisi, brother. Our family's history isn't entirely... honourable, nor proud, mind you. But you and I are at least breaking away from our ancestors' penchant of mindless bloody violence - I'm going to assume you're not some megalomaniac murderer hellbent on destruction like our dear father was."
 
"I can only imagine how challengin', 'specially with the... added hit of... it bein' a friend an' all." Andrew agreed, picking his words slowly and carefully, not wanting to inflict any further hurt even if by accident, "But at least you 'ave Miss B-- Natalia an' Her Majesty to help ya through it, right?" He smiled warmly, not realising that such comments could actually bring about the pain he had been trying to avoid inflicting.

From what he had heard from his own village was the warmth and love that had found its way into the marriage of the king and queen. He had listened to the stories and news of the strength such revelations had brought, and how well the royal couple had worked together during their few months of harmony and love. Even during dinner, he had been fooled by the act that had been put on, missing the pointed glances and obviously misinterpreting the words that had been spoken. The fondness and affection that had been on display... Andrew wasn't certain how any one could fake such emotion.

"The carriage might be a bit bumpy-- it could jolt you around a bit more than you might remember when you ain't all stitched up," Andrew pointed out, settling into the topic that he knew more about - horses and carriages. "You'd be surprised at the little directions parts of your body go in when you're out ridin' or in carriage... all things you ain't goin'ta notice until you've got a few sore muscles or a coupl'a bruises or, in your case, a few stitches."

He added a smile, wanting to keep things light considering they didn't know where the king went during his brief silent spell. The glaze that came over his eyes didn't exactly fill Andrew with confidence, but he did his best to pretend he didn't notice such a thing, telling himself he wasn't going to judge since he would never be able to understand the true extent of what Sven was feeling.

How could he ever? He'd never had someone attempt to take his life before.

"Ah... no... I'll confess I've never had the urge to destroy anythin'." He chuckled, reaching forward to lay the cigar on the ashtray. He then rested back into the armchair, a soft exhale of contentedness accompanying the action.

However, Andrew then came to pause, hesitating for a moment and a warmth growing in his cheeks, "I... uh... I must confess somethin' though, brother," he began, clearly embarrassed and reluctant to continue talking, "I...I ain't the strongest of... readers. Or-or writers. Ma taught me to a certain level but... but then I had to work, to help provide an' all that, an'... well, the time for learnin' became less an' less."

It was mortifying to admit such a thing about his character. Not just to the king, but also in front of a woman he harboured an attraction for. And, if the pink cheeks and bashful looks between them gave him any hope, she also felt towards him. How would he ever be able to compete for her now that that particular truth was out in the open? He'd never be able to write to her, simply due to the embarrassment of his awful, weak handwriting.

She was a well-read, highly intelligent woman... and well above his station. Surely this new-found infatuation would be best to come to an end quickly, before he got himself hurt and made an even bigger fool of himself.
 
"I'd be remiss not to take heed of your advice, won't I? You're evidently the expert in the matter so... perhaps it would be best to postpone our carriage journey around Ignis, brother. I wouldn't want to tear these stitches, certainly not in our presence - I have the distinct impression that you're not a fan of blood and I would hate to... cause you to faint or grow nauseous, Andrew. So I fear it's best to leave that journey for another time, yes," the King relented, deciding that maintaining even a slight pretence of being fitter and less injured than he currently was would only be to his own detriment later on.

He might not wish to concern Andrew too much with the truth of just how agonising it was to even do the most basic of things at the moment (though he also felt it appropriate to continue to present a strengthened facade) but denying his injuries to himself was a delusion that would reap terrible, potentially life-threatening consequences later on. A journey might have been an ideal scenario to bond with his brother but when it came as a risk to his health, it just wasn't worth it.

And though admitting so to Andrew might damage his ego (and the belief that he was tough enough to take anything on, even stab wounds), it was, ultimately, the only option he had if he wanted to make a full recovery and regain his former strength once more.

Deep down, some innate part of him wanted to impress Andrew; to have this new brother in his life look at him and be proud to call him family. He couldn't achieve that newfound desire if he caught an infection from his wounds tearing open and seeping out again; a point he had, reluctantly, come to accept.

With the matter settled following his resigned admission, the Ignisian eased back with his cigar, breathing in the thick smoke in contentment. As awful of a habit as it was, he refused to deny himself the pleasure it brought him - and he especially couldn't now any pleasure in his life seemed few and far between. His reverie broke at the sound of Andrew's awkward confessions, his brows furrowing as his brother's words proceeded. Only after he had finished did Sven lean forward to set his cigar down, taking his time in order to approach the matter with as much tact and gentleness as he could.

He didn't wish to embarrass the other more than he already was.

"...Andrew, your ability to read or write doesn't define your worth to me, I hope you know that? I wouldn't like you any more or any less if you were a strong reader with remarkable penmanship. That said, you can always learn these things if you wanted to. I don't profess to care either way, it makes no difference in how I perceive you, but... it wouldn't harm to learn to read and write better. If the thought of improving those skills occurs, I'm sure Natalia would be on hand to assist you."

The advisor's eyes widened at the remark, her head jolting unsubtly towards her friend in the slight fear that his offer of her help was a pointed comment; a hint that he knew of her newfound romantic preoccupation. When she was met with neutrality and obliviousness, she smiled in relief and allowed her shoulders to ease back, ridding herself quickly of any tension that had built.

"Of course, I-- I would be happy to lend my assistance should you require it, Andrew. I never had the privilege of handwriting lessons as a child, such matters were for the elite and the upperclass, but I think I have done quite a good job of teaching myself. I'd... take pride in teaching you what I've taught myself."
 
If his embarrassed mannerisms were anything to go by, the conversation was one that brought discomfort and mortification upon him. He had inflicted it upon himself, of course, since he knew it was better to confess now rather than be caught out and make an even bigger fool of himself later. However, it only continued to serve to remind him how ill-prepared he was for the new life he was being offered.

He had yet to accept, especially with the matter of having a trial as a stable hand in the Royal stables, but the more he thought about the grand new way of living that was awaiting him... The more Andrew came to pick holes in his own place within it. His reading and writing was one thing, but his way of talking, his lack of etiquette, even being incapable of picking the right cutlery without help... They were all beginning to add up to a point where he wondered if even toying with the idea of being in this prestigious environment was a good one.

"I know it don't mean anythin' to ya but... But if I'm goin'ta, y'know, be stickin' around... Ain't I goin'ta stand out like a bit of a sore thumb? I mean... I ain't had years of learnin' like you an' Natalia... I don't want to be causin' any... embarrassment." he answered, clearing his throat awkwardly.

At Sven's offering of Natalie's help, Andrew reluctantly looked in the adviser's direction, a mixture of emotion swirling within him. The idea of spending more time with Miss Bauer did, undoubtedly, please him, however at the sight of the widened eyes, it would be easy to interpret her anxiety of being jabbed at by Sven as her lack of desire to be saddled with teaching him penmanship and reading.

His cheeks reddened further as a result but he was unable to tear his eyes away from her as the look of surprise was replaced by a neutral smile.

"I wouldn't want to cause any trouble. I can only imagine how busy you all got ta'be without needin' to babysit me." He chuckled, forcing the noise to carry some lightness to it so it didn't sound overly bitter. He did, however, pause as Natalie's words registered in his mind.

She was self-taught and did not receive any high, upper-class training either. Without wanting to get too hopeful, Andrew quietly rubbed the back of his neck as he considered the offer, despite his continue hesitant to add more to schedule. But the desire to see more of the adviser eventually won out, the prospect of spending some one-to-one time, potentially alone, was too great a chance to ignore.

"Do you... Do you really mean it? Cause that... That would be... I mean, I'd really appreciate any help, y'know? Even-- even just the li'lest thing. But only-- but only if you have enough time. I don't want to be comin' in here an' disruptin' everythin' you all are doin'."
 
How she replied to Andrew was something Natalia knew she had to take great care in doing. She wasn't entirely sure whether it would be appropriate to indicate that she found the atmosphere between the two of them to be greatly enjoyable when she had just met the man - his light flirtation and attention might simply be playful, and she didn't dare make a fool of herself by making anything more serious out of it if that wasn't his intention. With nothing clarified between them, she could only imagine that that was the case, incapable of truly believing that this man who had just met her would find her to be... genuinely appealing.

She was confident in who she was, but mostly in terms of her professional life. She knew she was fantastic at her job and everything it entailed, but socially was where she realised she was less successful. She wasn't a wallflower who sought to retreat from such social occasions, but she had never quite blossomed within them either - perhaps it was because her work was her life, or perhaps it was simply because she tended to overcomplicate matters.

She either failed to pick up on romantic signals or desires for friendship... or misread situations entirely, seeing potentials for romance that never actually existed. She liked Andrew more than she thought she would - so spending a moment to comprehend how she would reply to him was more important to her than it appeared to be on the surface. After all, if she replied too eagerly and he didn't like her as much as she was hoping he did, she would make herself look like an idiot - though answering too sternly might throw water on the growing flame between them.

It also didn't help that Sven was present, listening to the interaction and though he remained unreadable, she was aware that he would make note of her reaction. When he felt like everyone close to him was drifting away, she naturally despised giving him more ammunition to throw against her and her 'distance' from his side... but she wasn't prepared to dash Andrew's hopes for that. Hurting him just to spare Sven's childish belief that she was pulling away from their friendship was cruel; too cruel for her to fathom acting upon.

It was why, after some thought, she allowed a natural smile to grave her lips, unable to fight off the joy that came from the idea of spending that alone time with Andrew, passing on everything she had learnt. If Sven noticed her excitement, then so be it - she would deal with the repercussions of his paranoia at a later date.

"You won't be disrupting anything, Andrew, I reassure you. The Queen has taken to helping with the running of the kingdom as Sven recovers, and I'm certain she will allow me to spend an hour away from such work to help you; to work on your penmanship and reading ability. I would like nothing more than to help you, in fact. I... assure you it isn't a chore nor a task, but... something I will take pride in. Besides, it will allow us to get to know one another and that cannot be a bad thing, can it?" She eventually responded as she set her hands on her lap, forcing back the urge to wring them in the fabric in her sudden bashfulness. She knew her response wasn't lacking in friendliness, with her flushed cheeks emblematic of something a tad more intense than that, but if she had misread his signals and he held no attraction towards her, this moment held the potential to be one of the most embarrassing of her life thus far.

She ignored Sven's presence, afraid that his unreadable expression might have slipped in recognition of her apparent interest in Andrew. Instead, another smile arose as she reached for a glass to fill with whiskey - if nothing else, it served as a nice nightcap.

"I promise you, I have enough time on my hands. It'll save me having to muck in with the maidly duties, which I despise. You'll be doing me a favour, Andrew, giving me something worthwhile to focus my attention on."
 
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