Did you purchase a tiara to add to your wardrobe while I have been in Salle, hm?
[ undoubtedly she owns one, somewhere. it tugs at the back of his mind, this latent urge he has had more and more since the antaam had invaded. antiva required an actual defense, and the crown was all but useless. sometimes viago felt as if he were the only member of his family (if he could call it that) that gave half a damn about how to do something properly. and, perhaps more importantly, viago was the only one who had not chosen exile. possibly the only one who could still strike for the throne.
teia would be a positively insufferable queen. the thought makes him smile a little, to himself, as he turns his attention out the window. they were nearly at their destination, though he catches her look out of the corner of his eye, returning his gaze to her briefly. seemingly unimpressed with her plan, but he does huff a soft laugh to himself. ]
Of course.
[ for one, he would never let her stand outside and be cold, however much he complains about teia's impulsivity and lack of thinking things through. for another... well, his eyes flicker to take in her outfit once more as the carriage rolls to a stop. he has never been less interested in going to dinner, but steeling his resolve, he nudges open the door on his own accord to climb out of it relatively gracefully, turning to offer teia her hand so she could step down without wrinkling her gown. his attention, though, has already turned to the restaurant -- a higher class affair, settled directly on the canal. and while he knows teia is hardly defenseless, she is also not exactly wearing something well-suited to defending herself. so he keeps ahold of her hand, gently squeezing her fingers as he directs the carriage to remain until their dinner is complete. ]
On the water, or inside?
[ he asks, keeping her relatively close. they have their pick of table; the owner of the restaurant will clear any table the fifth and seventh talon ask for, if it's occupied. ]
no subject
[ undoubtedly she owns one, somewhere. it tugs at the back of his mind, this latent urge he has had more and more since the antaam had invaded. antiva required an actual defense, and the crown was all but useless. sometimes viago felt as if he were the only member of his family (if he could call it that) that gave half a damn about how to do something properly. and, perhaps more importantly, viago was the only one who had not chosen exile. possibly the only one who could still strike for the throne.
teia would be a positively insufferable queen. the thought makes him smile a little, to himself, as he turns his attention out the window. they were nearly at their destination, though he catches her look out of the corner of his eye, returning his gaze to her briefly. seemingly unimpressed with her plan, but he does huff a soft laugh to himself. ]
Of course.
[ for one, he would never let her stand outside and be cold, however much he complains about teia's impulsivity and lack of thinking things through. for another... well, his eyes flicker to take in her outfit once more as the carriage rolls to a stop. he has never been less interested in going to dinner, but steeling his resolve, he nudges open the door on his own accord to climb out of it relatively gracefully, turning to offer teia her hand so she could step down without wrinkling her gown. his attention, though, has already turned to the restaurant -- a higher class affair, settled directly on the canal. and while he knows teia is hardly defenseless, she is also not exactly wearing something well-suited to defending herself. so he keeps ahold of her hand, gently squeezing her fingers as he directs the carriage to remain until their dinner is complete. ]
On the water, or inside?
[ he asks, keeping her relatively close. they have their pick of table; the owner of the restaurant will clear any table the fifth and seventh talon ask for, if it's occupied. ]