Snippet #2389934

Nikolas walked, pacing along with Matilda. The day was nice, a soothing breeze whispering through the trees of Caldomaa. Birds danced way overhead, small blue dots darting back and forth, catching and escaping each others bound. In the distance was the ruckus of the day, people hustling and bustling to and fro setting up vendor stands and advertising their latest product. Life never ceased in Caldomaa, there was always heartache and happiness, hunger and content. The balance in the land was met, not only with the pristine weather but with the people as well. Life never stopped in Caldomaa -- time never stopped in Caldomaa. Everything had its place and worked clockwerk in a machine much bigger than anyone could comprehend.

But Nikolas could feel a solemn space with the princess, where the worries of the day ceased and the day seemed a little brighter and the birds sung a little louder. He learned quick enough after his father had passed that those little things were what made a typical day into one worth smiling about. After Nikolas enlisted in Caldomaa's regiment it was shoved time and time again into his head that those little things were worth fighting for. Now, after all the years of weary and hardship balancing military dogma with family values and with his promotion to Captain of the Guard he learned the most important lesson of all: that those little things were sacred, and worth protecting and dying for. He treasured this short, but quiet time with the princess.

"Thank you, that is very kind of you to say," the princess said.

Nikolas smiled, noticing her blush. Anything to brighten her day he supposed.

"You look handsome, especially with your wound," Nikolas heard her say, he grinned boyishly, stifling a laugh.

"Then perhaps you should have been there when Gregoir and I stormed Vechkin's Tower," he referred to a past campaign he had partaken in. Nikolas was a modest man, but when it came to talking about his past and the stories he made Nikolas was never cut short, plus he wanted to impress the princess.

"Some bastard shot me while I was on the move, almost went straight through my knobs -- " he froze suddenly, cursing himself for his stupidity and sudden lack of formality. You're talking to the princess dammit, address her as such. Nikolas cursed himself then attempted to salvage the small talk.

" -- . .. knee. Gregoir watched me limp back to camp, since it ricocheted and a piece of shrapnel hit my shin ," Nikolas swallowed trying to hide his nervousness, "I mean, I was hurt that day. Not in a bad way, just because I look. . . well I assumed you thought wounded men were more handsome, so. . ." he shut himself up. He could feel his ancestors face palming from eons ago.

Nikolas sat down when she ordered. Perhaps his silence would ward off the awkwardness, perhaps not, but as of now it came to the captain as the most viable option. If his stupid mouth was shut it wouldn't say any more stupid things. He watched Matilda as she tended to his wound, admiring how delicate her face looked up close. Nikolas could have sworn he stopped breathing for a good minute, so focused, so observant, but he didn't care. He felt like he could be himself around her, and he spoke, softly.

"My sister Aeryn always asks about you," he spoke, a genuine sincerity in the Captain's voice as he recollected the conversation with his sister, "Well, after asking about the horses and the gardens and the food," Nikolas laughed.