LOREN
It seemed that while Abasi was happy to give out compliments, he wasn’t quite as willing to accept them. Seeing as Loren was much the same way, he could understand that. ”You’re welcome.” However, the conversation took a much darker turn. The Launceleyn considered the other man’s words for a long moment. ”I don’t know. I would hope that they would try a peaceful resolution to the issue first.” Despite everything that the summoner had been raised to think, force and power and might were usually his last resorts; that was tempered by the fact that when he did go to battle, he didn’t hold anything back.
When Abasi agreed to Loren’s suggestion that they go looking for cosmetics—which was certainly not how the summoner had expected his day to go—he nodded. Draining the rest of the tea, he left the mug on the table near him and stood up. He could always come back later to clean it. ”Follow me then.” Although the other man was confident that the Launceleyn would look better in makeup, he still wasn’t so sure about that. However, he knew better than to argue. Instead, he just lead them upstairs, to the master bedrooms.
As they walked, the other man asked about Ronin. Sighing, the summoner tried to come up with a charitable way to describe his former friend. It didn’t help that part of the reason Loren wasn’t sure about the king was because he’d had the same illness as Abasi had. The Launcelyn didn’t know how the other man would react to that. ”He was blighted, so we could not trust him to make clear headed decisions. And though the disease has been cured, he hasn’t been around.” It was hard to put faith in an absent ruler. Maybe Abasi’s story about the gods of his land and how the mortals had rebelled was more applicable to Loren than he cared to admit.
Thankfully, they came to Zariah’s bedroom before he had to think too hard about it. The summoner opened the door, revealing the treasures within. His cousin had been a prideful woman. Surely she had some makeup.
So Loren searched, starting with areas near the mirrors, and was quickly rewarded with a jar of black powder. He held it up for the other man to examine. ”Will this do?” Hopefully Abasi would say yes: although Zariah was gone, the summoner didn't want to spend any more time than he had to in her bedroom. Maybe it was just the ghosts from his past, coming back to haunt him as they always did.
When Abasi agreed to Loren’s suggestion that they go looking for cosmetics—which was certainly not how the summoner had expected his day to go—he nodded. Draining the rest of the tea, he left the mug on the table near him and stood up. He could always come back later to clean it. ”Follow me then.” Although the other man was confident that the Launceleyn would look better in makeup, he still wasn’t so sure about that. However, he knew better than to argue. Instead, he just lead them upstairs, to the master bedrooms.
As they walked, the other man asked about Ronin. Sighing, the summoner tried to come up with a charitable way to describe his former friend. It didn’t help that part of the reason Loren wasn’t sure about the king was because he’d had the same illness as Abasi had. The Launcelyn didn’t know how the other man would react to that. ”He was blighted, so we could not trust him to make clear headed decisions. And though the disease has been cured, he hasn’t been around.” It was hard to put faith in an absent ruler. Maybe Abasi’s story about the gods of his land and how the mortals had rebelled was more applicable to Loren than he cared to admit.
Thankfully, they came to Zariah’s bedroom before he had to think too hard about it. The summoner opened the door, revealing the treasures within. His cousin had been a prideful woman. Surely she had some makeup.
So Loren searched, starting with areas near the mirrors, and was quickly rewarded with a jar of black powder. He held it up for the other man to examine. ”Will this do?” Hopefully Abasi would say yes: although Zariah was gone, the summoner didn't want to spend any more time than he had to in her bedroom. Maybe it was just the ghosts from his past, coming back to haunt him as they always did.
But don’t be weary if it’s broken
Families are like that—
they’re split up and always torn.
