no amount of guilt can change the past && no amount of anxiety can change the future
She almost pouts up through the curtain of tawny hair, but there’s too much laughter in her eyes for it to have any effect. It’s ridiculous, of course, to be this delighted when she knows that’s coming next, but Amalia cannot help it. Ever an introvert, she hadn’t realized how precious her social circle was until she lost it. Once she had chafed at living in a wild household filled to the brim; now she aches for a return to that normalcy, her quarters gaping and empty by comparison.
But enough of that. “Ye of little faith,” the not-Shield teases gently, disentangling herself from the hug to pad off to the kitchen. “I’ve got some I made up last night - let me stick them in the oven for a minute to warm up while the tea brews.” She’s bustling eagerly, her back to the bedroom and Remi both as she prepares their pre-Shrine-destruction snack. ”How are things in the Greatwood?” Amalia wonders as she works, the kettle now settled onto the stove. ”Any pushback from Wessex?”
But enough of that. “Ye of little faith,” the not-Shield teases gently, disentangling herself from the hug to pad off to the kitchen. “I’ve got some I made up last night - let me stick them in the oven for a minute to warm up while the tea brews.” She’s bustling eagerly, her back to the bedroom and Remi both as she prepares their pre-Shrine-destruction snack. ”How are things in the Greatwood?” Amalia wonders as she works, the kettle now settled onto the stove. ”Any pushback from Wessex?”
Amalia
