Amalia
the shield of safrin
She blushes happily at the praise, a shy, proud smile brightening her face. "I'm sorry I didn't have anything more. I usually have dinner at Deimos's house- or our house, I guess, sort of. Um." Furiously flushed, she trails off, still vaguely mystified at the idea that the general would choose to share his life - and his home - with her.
At last Amalia relaxes a little, or enough to bark a nervous laugh. Shaking her head in playful indignation, the baker arches a slender eyebrow. "Customs, Gods, and baking?" she asks, affecting a wounded tone. "Now I'm beginning to think you asked for this just so you could enjoy doing any work."
At last Amalia relaxes a little, or enough to bark a nervous laugh. Shaking her head in playful indignation, the baker arches a slender eyebrow. "Customs, Gods, and baking?" she asks, affecting a wounded tone. "Now I'm beginning to think you asked for this just so you could enjoy doing any work."
you are slowly growing
but you are still growing
and that is enough
