Cyril's Office - Evening - Chilly
Cyril Eisner
Setting aside the last of his marking for the week, Cyril exhaled heavily, stretching his arms above him and leaning back a bit in his chair. He was still having trouble getting used to the quiet in his head; there were his own thoughts, of course, but he was also accustomed to the presence of another, a second steam of consciousness that he couldn't always follow exactly but was ever at least aware of. Now though... there was just nothing. Nothing but himself, and the strange feeling of too much space.
The first couple of days he'd thought it might drive him mad. It was less bad than that now, but he found it continued to strike him at the oddest moments, places where he all but paused for the expected commentary and found that the silence just echoed back towards him, overwhelming and uncomfortable. It was less bad if he was around people, but at the moment he was alone.
A glance at the candle on his desk informed him that he'd missed dinner by a couple of hours; full dark had long fallen outside. He supposed he could go make himself something in the kitchen, or perhaps go into town for a meal, but more than food he wanted company at the moment, and there was one person whose company he regularly sought above all others. Perhaps he should go look for her; if not in the library at this time, she may have already retired to her room for the night.
Throwing on his cloak and locking up his office behind him, he set out to find her.
When he found her, it was oddly by the stables. Libi had his head out of the stall, and she seemed to be petting his snout, a soft smile on her features. She leaned foreward to press her forehead against his snout, murmuring something, but was too quiet for Cyril to hear. Libi nudged her, though, and she finally spotted Cyril. Her features softened considerably when she looked at him, and she offered him a smile. Patting Libi's nose one final time, the horse made his way back into his stall as Senka made her way towards him.
“You're still up?" she asked, her head tilting slightly as she regarded him with an even stare.
“I could ask the same of you," he replied softly, reaching out to gently cradle the side of her face in one hand and press his lips to her hairline. Even this was a liberty, one he probably should not take, but it was the only one he allowed himself, and he didn't know if he could manage even another month and a half without touching her in such a way at all. Not unless she'd asked him to, anyway, and she didn't seem to mind.
“I just finished marking," Cyril explained. “Realized I'd missed dinner. Are you tired, or... would you maybe like to go into town with me for a bit?" The townsfolk hardly knew or cared who she was. Who either of them were. They could, perhaps, be a little more themselves, without having to worry about so many judgemental eyes, and he found the thought appealed at the moment. Still, if she hadn't the energy left, he'd prefer to stay here with her than go there by himself.
She huffed lightly, a small chuckle escaping her as she nodded her head. “I am still up because I am not tired, yet," she replied, shaking her head softly as she reached out to grab his hand. She gave it a gentle squeeze and held onto it a moment longer before releasing it. “And of course I'd like to go. Anywhere is better... than here," she added, her hand making a vague gesture around them. Her eyes narrowed somewhat, though, and a sly smile played at her lips.
“Perhaps dinner at your favorite tavern? The Spindlethorn where Miss Violet resides?" she continued. It was clear that she was teasing him, but also, the way her voice seemed to turn a hair darker at the end suggested that she did not want to go there.
For a moment he didn't really understand why, and he almost expected Sothis to mock him about it. But there was nothing, and somehow the realization clicked on its own. “Senka, are you... were you jealous of her?" It was not asked with the smug tone of a man who knew the answer, but the uncertain, vaguely puzzled one of someone who found the hypothesis unlikely but didn't have a better one to use instead. He tilted his head rather quizzically.
She frowned at him, her lips pursing together as she stared at him. “Of course I was," she murmured softly, glancing away from him. “At the time... I didn't know why, only that I was. It bothered me how she clung to you like that, and how... you just... let her. But I knew we were there for information on Thea, at the time." She looked like she was pouting, now, her eyes still elsewhere but on him.
“It wasn't right of me to feel that way, but... I couldn't help myself. It's... why I ignored you for those couple of days," she seemed to admit. “I'm sorry for that. For being selfish like that, but I didn't know that..." she paused in her words to shake her head.
Let her—ah. Cyril thought he understood. Chuckling softly, he shook his head, reaching forward to pick up her hand and settling it in the crook of his arm. They were headed towards town, after all, and he was rather looking forward to getting there. “You know that was for a cover, right?" he asked, not unkindly. “Violet really is a courtesan, but in my case she only acts like I'm a customer so that it's not obvious she's passing me information. Women in brothels make excellent spies—the people who come to them are often looking to unload their burdens on someone, so they hear all kinds of things."
Still, he supposed her proposition had been genuine enough, and so odd as it was to talk about, he felt he should clarify something. “I haven't... been with anyone since last Blue Sea Moon, you know. And even then, it was never..." He paused, searching for the right words. Many of the aspects of the lifestyle he'd lived were things nobles would consider crass. Publicly, anyway. Behind closed doors he knew a lot of them did the same, or much worse, than simply hiring someone to meet a bodily need on occasion. “I've never loved anyone, before you. Some part of me wishes I hadn't done the other parts, either, but—" he shrugged.
In some sense it wasn't so bad. He'd know exactly what he was doing, when the two of them arrived at that point. And because of that he knew he was much less likely to do something stupid, like not pay enough attention to her needs and desires. “But there's no changing history. Is that... is that all right by you?" He didn't think it would be a problem, but then he knew nothing at all about loving someone, really, or what the expectations were, aside from the really obvious ones.
She furrowed her brows at him, holding his gaze as she remained silent. Finally, she shook her head, and released a soft breath. “Why wouldn't it be?" she asked, her head tilting slightly to the side. “When I fell in love with you, it wasn't because of what you did or what you were. I fell in love with who you are, just as you claim to love me as I am. Even with knowing who I am, and what... my life was like before," she clarified, it seemed. Taking in another breath, she glanced away, a small smile on her face as she glanced out in front of them.
“I'm not asking you to change for me, Cyril. I'm not asking for anything of you, other... other than for you to continue to love me, even on the days when it feels like I can't love myself," she spoke softly, then, and he could see her shoulders slump slightly. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before she glanced back at him, a small smile on her lips.
“All I ask of you is... to let me share my love and life with you. That's all I'll ask," she spoke, her eyes seemingly brighter than they usually were.
She could ask him for a great deal more than that, if she'd wanted. Honestly he couldn't think of anything he wouldn't do his best to give her, if she only requested it. Setting his other had briefly over where hers rested on his arm, he squeezed a little and then withdrew it. “Of course I will," he said simply.
Cyril had found that, with Senka, it wasn't always or even often necessary to speak. He liked talking to her—a rare enough even on its own—but he also knew that she didn't require it of him, and so the rest of the walk passed in comfortable silence. He did not, in fact, take them to the Spindlethorn, but rather to a more upstanding sort of establishment, with a cheerful light in the windows and a tidy, polished interior. It was called the Red Crown, and Manuela and Hanneman had recommended it to him as a place an Academy professor might enjoy his time off without anyone bothering him about, well, being an Academy professor.
They were swiftly seated in a corner booth near a window, and the middle-aged woman who took their orders smiled maternally at both of them before shuffling away to see them filled. It left them with a bit more time before they could eat, so he decided to venture a question. “Stop me if this is too intrusive to ask," he murmured, voice low enough that the conversation would remain private even with other patrons in the tavern. “But... what's your history been like, with that kind of thing?"
She looked at him with a vaguely confused look before it dawned on her what he'd meant. She blinked slowly, and glanced at anywhere but him. “I don't have much of a history, exactly," she replied, finally lifting her gaze back towards him. “When I was younger, it wasn't exactly something I thought of, or sought. I was much too interested in baking with my father, learning my mother's spells, or... training with Espera. I don't think I've ever really loved anyone like I do you. And... well," she cleared her throat, her face coloring just the slightest bit.
“I've never really been with anyone, for all my proclivity to... well, touch," she spoke, her eyes falling from his. Of all things that made her embarrassed, it seemed that talking about that made her so.
He smiled softly, but refrained from laughing. Some people could—not wrongly—be sensitive about such things, and he didn't want her to think he was mocking her, because he wasn't. While he had no especial regard for those who lacked that kind of history—had in fact only really been with women of experience—he didn't disdain it or see anything wrong with it, either. It was just another fact about Senka, one he now knew, and he found he rather liked knowing things about her.
“It's all right, you know," he said, offering his hand across the table in case she might like it. He certainly shared her proclivity for touch, though it wasn't something he'd really known about himself until she of all people had taught him. “Like you, all I really want is to share things with you. There's nothing to be embarrassed about." He tilted his head.
“Normally I suppose I'd ask what kinds of things you like, but if you don't know we can always figure it out. So... tell me about something else, instead. What are your plans for Duscur, when you get it back? What kind of place do you want it to be?"
She took it into hers, holding it gently as she stared at their hands. “I want it to be a place for everyone to be as they are, and not have to hide anything. I want them to feel safe, and not chastised or forced into doing something simply because they were born into a family that required it," she spoke slowly, her eyes lifting to meet his.
“I want it to be a place where people can go and be themselves, to find dreams to share with others, and feel like they don't have to hide who they are. I want it to be a place where people feel free," she continued, dropping her eyes again.
“And I want it to be a place that people come to admire, and love. Not something that is to be hated and feared simply because of the location," she was probably referring to how close it was to Fhirdiad. “I plan on implementing new treaties as well, and building up the relationship between the other countries. I want Duscur to thrive, and... be capable of defending themselves so nothing like... what happened ever happens again." Her hand squeezed his tightly as she spoke, but it relaxed after a moment.
“It sounds wonderful," he said simply, half-smiling. He was quite confident in her ability to achieve such a thing, though that wasn't to undersell the amount of work it would be. “I don't know much about civic governance, or treaties or anything like that, but... I could certainly help with the defending bit, if you'd like."
She'd made clear to him what was on offer, in one sense. But he wanted to be useful, as well. To have a role to play in that restoration, even if the lion's share of the work fell to her as the queen by blood. “If nothing else, I'd like you to be able to rely on me for something like that. It's what I'm good at, after all."
“I really don't deserve someone like you," she whispered softly, a smile tugging at her lips as she regarded him with a warm gaze. “You make it very difficult to wait until graduation, I hope you know that," she stated, her hand squeezing his just faintly before she withdrew it.
He did let himself laugh then, just a soft one, and shook his head. “The feeling is mutual on that score," he replied, more playfully than anything. It was quite true, though—the restraint it took, when he knew she felt as he did... well he was glad of his discipline in a way, but in another he almost regretted it.
“Still... only a month and a half now. Putting aside the obvious for a moment, are you looking forward to it?" He knew she couldn't view her time here with anything like nostalgia, most likely, given the ways in which it had been trying on her, but... some part of him somehow hoped that it still seemed to her a more positive than negative experience, at least.
Her eyes grew melancholy, though. “I am," she spoke softly, sighing lightly as she dropped her gaze to her hands as they folded on the table. “For all that it was... I will miss it. I've made so many friends here, people I love and care about, and... I don't think I ever would have met you if I hadn't enrolled with Sorcha. I... almost didn't, to be honest," she stated, pushing out a soft sigh through her nose.
“I wasn't sure if I would have been able to conceal who I was, but my desire to keep Sorcha safe is what forced me to enroll. If I hadn't, I don't think I'd have ever met you, and..." she trailed off, her hands clenching tightly together. “I don't think I'd be the person I am today if it wasn't for all of you. Especially you. You've... I've told you before that you're my reason to live. That day... it scared me because I thought that I did lose you. I... I don't want to lose someone else I love. I don't know if I could stand to."
“I... hope you don't think me childish because of it, but it's how I feel. You're important to me, Cyril, so very important," she whispered the last part and swallowed thickly.
“Why would I think that childish?" he asked, leaning forward a little and propping his chin in his hand. His eyes softened; he'd seen them in the mirror a few times and found them strange, but if it was the only physical sign of what had happened to him, he supposed it was rather subtle. “Perhaps it's just the strange way my life has gone, but... caring about people... that seems like something extraordinary and important. Caring about you—all of you, but you most of all—it makes me feel like I'm finally alive at all."
A smile tugged his mouth up at the corner, and he narrowed his eyes at her over the tabletop. “I don't have any plans to die, you know. Not when I just learned what living's really about. Especially not since I promised I'd be there when you needed me." He hoped that was at least some reassurance. Surely, what they did was dangerous, and there was always a risk, but—but he had the Divine Pulse, now truly his and more powerful than before, and they were all of them formidable. He had a feeling they could handle what Rhea threw at them, for just a little while longer.
She was quiet for a moment, as if she were thinking about what he said. Her eyes fell to the table top, and she worried her bottom lip for a moment longer before she lifted her gaze back to meet his. They were uncannily calm, almost in an eerie sort of way.
“Will you..." she began, furrowing her brows lightly, “will you promise me something else?"
“You don't have to, and I know that things and feelings change over time, but... when Sorcha gives Duscur back to me, will you promise to help me with it? I don't know how many years it'll take before that happens. I know that there will be difficulties in getting the territory back, but... will you help me rebuild it. As..." she paused, swallowing thickly before she laid both of her hands in front of her.
“As its king?"
He had to process that for a moment; it wasn't merely the king bit, either. That he could have taken or left, in an odd way. Truthfully, Cyril would have thought himself more suited to a posting like general, one that carried no real nobility with it. The only reason he cared at all for the one she was offering was because, well—
The way he would become the king was by marrying the queen.
He felt himself smile, a soft thing, and warm. “When you have your country back," he said quietly, “however many years that takes. When we've done it, I'll ask you then if you still feel this way. And if you do, I will. I promise."
She smiled then, something brighter than normal, and she reached across the table for his hand. “However many years it takes," she began, keeping her gaze with his, “when all is said and done, and I have Duscur back... nothing would make me happier."
“Until then... there's only a month or so left," she paused, huffing softly to herself, “and then we can be together with nothing to hold us back." Her eyes narrowed slightly with the force of her smile.
He gave her hand a squeeze, then raised it to his mouth, brushing the softest of kisses over her knuckles. “I've never wanted anything more."
The first couple of days he'd thought it might drive him mad. It was less bad than that now, but he found it continued to strike him at the oddest moments, places where he all but paused for the expected commentary and found that the silence just echoed back towards him, overwhelming and uncomfortable. It was less bad if he was around people, but at the moment he was alone.
A glance at the candle on his desk informed him that he'd missed dinner by a couple of hours; full dark had long fallen outside. He supposed he could go make himself something in the kitchen, or perhaps go into town for a meal, but more than food he wanted company at the moment, and there was one person whose company he regularly sought above all others. Perhaps he should go look for her; if not in the library at this time, she may have already retired to her room for the night.
Throwing on his cloak and locking up his office behind him, he set out to find her.
When he found her, it was oddly by the stables. Libi had his head out of the stall, and she seemed to be petting his snout, a soft smile on her features. She leaned foreward to press her forehead against his snout, murmuring something, but was too quiet for Cyril to hear. Libi nudged her, though, and she finally spotted Cyril. Her features softened considerably when she looked at him, and she offered him a smile. Patting Libi's nose one final time, the horse made his way back into his stall as Senka made her way towards him.
“You're still up?" she asked, her head tilting slightly as she regarded him with an even stare.
“I could ask the same of you," he replied softly, reaching out to gently cradle the side of her face in one hand and press his lips to her hairline. Even this was a liberty, one he probably should not take, but it was the only one he allowed himself, and he didn't know if he could manage even another month and a half without touching her in such a way at all. Not unless she'd asked him to, anyway, and she didn't seem to mind.
“I just finished marking," Cyril explained. “Realized I'd missed dinner. Are you tired, or... would you maybe like to go into town with me for a bit?" The townsfolk hardly knew or cared who she was. Who either of them were. They could, perhaps, be a little more themselves, without having to worry about so many judgemental eyes, and he found the thought appealed at the moment. Still, if she hadn't the energy left, he'd prefer to stay here with her than go there by himself.
She huffed lightly, a small chuckle escaping her as she nodded her head. “I am still up because I am not tired, yet," she replied, shaking her head softly as she reached out to grab his hand. She gave it a gentle squeeze and held onto it a moment longer before releasing it. “And of course I'd like to go. Anywhere is better... than here," she added, her hand making a vague gesture around them. Her eyes narrowed somewhat, though, and a sly smile played at her lips.
“Perhaps dinner at your favorite tavern? The Spindlethorn where Miss Violet resides?" she continued. It was clear that she was teasing him, but also, the way her voice seemed to turn a hair darker at the end suggested that she did not want to go there.
For a moment he didn't really understand why, and he almost expected Sothis to mock him about it. But there was nothing, and somehow the realization clicked on its own. “Senka, are you... were you jealous of her?" It was not asked with the smug tone of a man who knew the answer, but the uncertain, vaguely puzzled one of someone who found the hypothesis unlikely but didn't have a better one to use instead. He tilted his head rather quizzically.
She frowned at him, her lips pursing together as she stared at him. “Of course I was," she murmured softly, glancing away from him. “At the time... I didn't know why, only that I was. It bothered me how she clung to you like that, and how... you just... let her. But I knew we were there for information on Thea, at the time." She looked like she was pouting, now, her eyes still elsewhere but on him.
“It wasn't right of me to feel that way, but... I couldn't help myself. It's... why I ignored you for those couple of days," she seemed to admit. “I'm sorry for that. For being selfish like that, but I didn't know that..." she paused in her words to shake her head.
Let her—ah. Cyril thought he understood. Chuckling softly, he shook his head, reaching forward to pick up her hand and settling it in the crook of his arm. They were headed towards town, after all, and he was rather looking forward to getting there. “You know that was for a cover, right?" he asked, not unkindly. “Violet really is a courtesan, but in my case she only acts like I'm a customer so that it's not obvious she's passing me information. Women in brothels make excellent spies—the people who come to them are often looking to unload their burdens on someone, so they hear all kinds of things."
Still, he supposed her proposition had been genuine enough, and so odd as it was to talk about, he felt he should clarify something. “I haven't... been with anyone since last Blue Sea Moon, you know. And even then, it was never..." He paused, searching for the right words. Many of the aspects of the lifestyle he'd lived were things nobles would consider crass. Publicly, anyway. Behind closed doors he knew a lot of them did the same, or much worse, than simply hiring someone to meet a bodily need on occasion. “I've never loved anyone, before you. Some part of me wishes I hadn't done the other parts, either, but—" he shrugged.
In some sense it wasn't so bad. He'd know exactly what he was doing, when the two of them arrived at that point. And because of that he knew he was much less likely to do something stupid, like not pay enough attention to her needs and desires. “But there's no changing history. Is that... is that all right by you?" He didn't think it would be a problem, but then he knew nothing at all about loving someone, really, or what the expectations were, aside from the really obvious ones.
She furrowed her brows at him, holding his gaze as she remained silent. Finally, she shook her head, and released a soft breath. “Why wouldn't it be?" she asked, her head tilting slightly to the side. “When I fell in love with you, it wasn't because of what you did or what you were. I fell in love with who you are, just as you claim to love me as I am. Even with knowing who I am, and what... my life was like before," she clarified, it seemed. Taking in another breath, she glanced away, a small smile on her face as she glanced out in front of them.
“I'm not asking you to change for me, Cyril. I'm not asking for anything of you, other... other than for you to continue to love me, even on the days when it feels like I can't love myself," she spoke softly, then, and he could see her shoulders slump slightly. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before she glanced back at him, a small smile on her lips.
“All I ask of you is... to let me share my love and life with you. That's all I'll ask," she spoke, her eyes seemingly brighter than they usually were.
She could ask him for a great deal more than that, if she'd wanted. Honestly he couldn't think of anything he wouldn't do his best to give her, if she only requested it. Setting his other had briefly over where hers rested on his arm, he squeezed a little and then withdrew it. “Of course I will," he said simply.
Cyril had found that, with Senka, it wasn't always or even often necessary to speak. He liked talking to her—a rare enough even on its own—but he also knew that she didn't require it of him, and so the rest of the walk passed in comfortable silence. He did not, in fact, take them to the Spindlethorn, but rather to a more upstanding sort of establishment, with a cheerful light in the windows and a tidy, polished interior. It was called the Red Crown, and Manuela and Hanneman had recommended it to him as a place an Academy professor might enjoy his time off without anyone bothering him about, well, being an Academy professor.
They were swiftly seated in a corner booth near a window, and the middle-aged woman who took their orders smiled maternally at both of them before shuffling away to see them filled. It left them with a bit more time before they could eat, so he decided to venture a question. “Stop me if this is too intrusive to ask," he murmured, voice low enough that the conversation would remain private even with other patrons in the tavern. “But... what's your history been like, with that kind of thing?"
She looked at him with a vaguely confused look before it dawned on her what he'd meant. She blinked slowly, and glanced at anywhere but him. “I don't have much of a history, exactly," she replied, finally lifting her gaze back towards him. “When I was younger, it wasn't exactly something I thought of, or sought. I was much too interested in baking with my father, learning my mother's spells, or... training with Espera. I don't think I've ever really loved anyone like I do you. And... well," she cleared her throat, her face coloring just the slightest bit.
“I've never really been with anyone, for all my proclivity to... well, touch," she spoke, her eyes falling from his. Of all things that made her embarrassed, it seemed that talking about that made her so.
He smiled softly, but refrained from laughing. Some people could—not wrongly—be sensitive about such things, and he didn't want her to think he was mocking her, because he wasn't. While he had no especial regard for those who lacked that kind of history—had in fact only really been with women of experience—he didn't disdain it or see anything wrong with it, either. It was just another fact about Senka, one he now knew, and he found he rather liked knowing things about her.
“It's all right, you know," he said, offering his hand across the table in case she might like it. He certainly shared her proclivity for touch, though it wasn't something he'd really known about himself until she of all people had taught him. “Like you, all I really want is to share things with you. There's nothing to be embarrassed about." He tilted his head.
“Normally I suppose I'd ask what kinds of things you like, but if you don't know we can always figure it out. So... tell me about something else, instead. What are your plans for Duscur, when you get it back? What kind of place do you want it to be?"
She took it into hers, holding it gently as she stared at their hands. “I want it to be a place for everyone to be as they are, and not have to hide anything. I want them to feel safe, and not chastised or forced into doing something simply because they were born into a family that required it," she spoke slowly, her eyes lifting to meet his.
“I want it to be a place where people can go and be themselves, to find dreams to share with others, and feel like they don't have to hide who they are. I want it to be a place where people feel free," she continued, dropping her eyes again.
“And I want it to be a place that people come to admire, and love. Not something that is to be hated and feared simply because of the location," she was probably referring to how close it was to Fhirdiad. “I plan on implementing new treaties as well, and building up the relationship between the other countries. I want Duscur to thrive, and... be capable of defending themselves so nothing like... what happened ever happens again." Her hand squeezed his tightly as she spoke, but it relaxed after a moment.
“It sounds wonderful," he said simply, half-smiling. He was quite confident in her ability to achieve such a thing, though that wasn't to undersell the amount of work it would be. “I don't know much about civic governance, or treaties or anything like that, but... I could certainly help with the defending bit, if you'd like."
She'd made clear to him what was on offer, in one sense. But he wanted to be useful, as well. To have a role to play in that restoration, even if the lion's share of the work fell to her as the queen by blood. “If nothing else, I'd like you to be able to rely on me for something like that. It's what I'm good at, after all."
“I really don't deserve someone like you," she whispered softly, a smile tugging at her lips as she regarded him with a warm gaze. “You make it very difficult to wait until graduation, I hope you know that," she stated, her hand squeezing his just faintly before she withdrew it.
He did let himself laugh then, just a soft one, and shook his head. “The feeling is mutual on that score," he replied, more playfully than anything. It was quite true, though—the restraint it took, when he knew she felt as he did... well he was glad of his discipline in a way, but in another he almost regretted it.
“Still... only a month and a half now. Putting aside the obvious for a moment, are you looking forward to it?" He knew she couldn't view her time here with anything like nostalgia, most likely, given the ways in which it had been trying on her, but... some part of him somehow hoped that it still seemed to her a more positive than negative experience, at least.
Her eyes grew melancholy, though. “I am," she spoke softly, sighing lightly as she dropped her gaze to her hands as they folded on the table. “For all that it was... I will miss it. I've made so many friends here, people I love and care about, and... I don't think I ever would have met you if I hadn't enrolled with Sorcha. I... almost didn't, to be honest," she stated, pushing out a soft sigh through her nose.
“I wasn't sure if I would have been able to conceal who I was, but my desire to keep Sorcha safe is what forced me to enroll. If I hadn't, I don't think I'd have ever met you, and..." she trailed off, her hands clenching tightly together. “I don't think I'd be the person I am today if it wasn't for all of you. Especially you. You've... I've told you before that you're my reason to live. That day... it scared me because I thought that I did lose you. I... I don't want to lose someone else I love. I don't know if I could stand to."
“I... hope you don't think me childish because of it, but it's how I feel. You're important to me, Cyril, so very important," she whispered the last part and swallowed thickly.
“Why would I think that childish?" he asked, leaning forward a little and propping his chin in his hand. His eyes softened; he'd seen them in the mirror a few times and found them strange, but if it was the only physical sign of what had happened to him, he supposed it was rather subtle. “Perhaps it's just the strange way my life has gone, but... caring about people... that seems like something extraordinary and important. Caring about you—all of you, but you most of all—it makes me feel like I'm finally alive at all."
A smile tugged his mouth up at the corner, and he narrowed his eyes at her over the tabletop. “I don't have any plans to die, you know. Not when I just learned what living's really about. Especially not since I promised I'd be there when you needed me." He hoped that was at least some reassurance. Surely, what they did was dangerous, and there was always a risk, but—but he had the Divine Pulse, now truly his and more powerful than before, and they were all of them formidable. He had a feeling they could handle what Rhea threw at them, for just a little while longer.
She was quiet for a moment, as if she were thinking about what he said. Her eyes fell to the table top, and she worried her bottom lip for a moment longer before she lifted her gaze back to meet his. They were uncannily calm, almost in an eerie sort of way.
“Will you..." she began, furrowing her brows lightly, “will you promise me something else?"
“You don't have to, and I know that things and feelings change over time, but... when Sorcha gives Duscur back to me, will you promise to help me with it? I don't know how many years it'll take before that happens. I know that there will be difficulties in getting the territory back, but... will you help me rebuild it. As..." she paused, swallowing thickly before she laid both of her hands in front of her.
“As its king?"
He had to process that for a moment; it wasn't merely the king bit, either. That he could have taken or left, in an odd way. Truthfully, Cyril would have thought himself more suited to a posting like general, one that carried no real nobility with it. The only reason he cared at all for the one she was offering was because, well—
The way he would become the king was by marrying the queen.
He felt himself smile, a soft thing, and warm. “When you have your country back," he said quietly, “however many years that takes. When we've done it, I'll ask you then if you still feel this way. And if you do, I will. I promise."
She smiled then, something brighter than normal, and she reached across the table for his hand. “However many years it takes," she began, keeping her gaze with his, “when all is said and done, and I have Duscur back... nothing would make me happier."
“Until then... there's only a month or so left," she paused, huffing softly to herself, “and then we can be together with nothing to hold us back." Her eyes narrowed slightly with the force of her smile.
He gave her hand a squeeze, then raised it to his mouth, brushing the softest of kisses over her knuckles. “I've never wanted anything more."