LOREN
When Rexanna casually mentioned they were friends, Loren’s eyes widened. ”Oh! Uh...same. I mean, of course I will make time for you! For...friendship.” Even after their meeting in the Rathskellar and even though he’d helped plan parts of her wedding, the Launceleyn hadn’t expected her to consider him anything more than an acquaintance. Not even a close acquaintance. Indeed, he could count the number of friends he’d ever had on the fingers of one hand. And he’d ruined most of those friendships in the end. Hopefully this one would at least last longer than they usually did. At her comment about painting over the image, however, he shook his head; it lined up a little too closely to his thoughts for him to be totally comfortable with it. ”I’d ah, probably keep the old one and start a new canvas, if I were you. I uh, have an unfortunate habit of backsliding when times get tough.” He gave her a guilty smile.He waited for her to finish deliberating, and finish speaking, before he responded. ”I understand. And of course the offer still stands.” Hesitating for just a brief moment, he gave her a sad smile that did not reach his eyes. ”I kept my scars too.” Even though he hadn’t ever wanted them—and maybe wouldn’t keep them forever—for now they were an important reminder of who and what he might become if he wasn’t careful and if he slid to far into the mould his family had tried to force him into. Then the Launceleyn gave the blue-eyed woman a sheepish look. ”I guess I need to come up with another present for you and Bastien, then.” Though he wasn’t exactly asking her what she wanted, he was vaguely hoping that she’d give him some ideas.
However, that offer hadn’t really been why he’d called her out here. He fiddled with his glove as he stared up at the moon and the stars and the sky above, not finding the courage to say the words. But deep down, he knew they had to be said. So, in that same core that drove him inexorably onward to help all those he could, despite the constant tragedy he made of his life, he found his voice. ”You uh, said you’d be willing to help me test whether the Ascended could summon the Spark Bird.” He hated how softly his words came out, but somehow they fit the whole tone of this night.
A beggar's book
outworths
a noble's blood
