They were a frightful bunch when together, those mercenaries, forces to be reckoned with, their power unknown to many, misunderstood, reason enough to be mindful in their presence. Society dictated that they never let down their guard long enough to be taken unawares by their kind, one never knew when their unstable sentiment might snap, but that didn't mean those same people weren't, at times, stricken with some manner of... intrigue by it all. The girls had no issue admiring from afar, not daring to step closer while they functioned as a single unit, the team that the count invited within their ranks one of the most tightly knit groups they had ever seen. It was interesting for them to watch, the connection that they shared, so unlike anything that had been told of mercenaries before. Despite their surprise, they'd also heard things and witnessed for themselves firsthand, exactly what they were capable of performing when pushed to it.
However, all rules were off when one or the other of them managed to be isolated. Each one of them had potential by themselves and could surely combat any challenge that threatened them while wandering alone, but... observing them as the girls at that moment had chosen to do with the young man Yurick, it was far less frightening to do when they weren't traveling alongside comrades, almost as though they believed they had a better chance of escaping detection when they were alone, their deeds going unhindered. That might have been so if it weren't for the awestruck sighs, the whispering words shared amongst each other, eyes peering longingly at the handsome curve of the mans back, slim muscle pulsing with power with each soft breath he inhaled. They could also feel the hint of electricity in the air, raising the tiny hairs on the backs of their necks. Or so, their imaginations told them so. Their behaviorisms were exactly... subtle, nor was their attempt of being slick about what they were doing.
There was just something terribly appealing about that, something they didn't understand. Though their Zael was kind to them, even he possessed some barrier that they simply couldn't cross.
The maid brave enough to announce the completion of the task they'd been given stood holding the door open, smiling softly at him, hoping her actions were better received than those who had chosen to follow her, drooling out in the hallway. Despite what they wanted, they knew they would not be able to hang around without permission. It wasn't their place. The admiration that they held for those of the group also contained an adequate amount of fear to keep them from doing things that pushed them over the edge. Unfortunately, they had to concede, and give up their wants to the maid who had been granted the order to begin with. The others fluttered away to their other duties, sinking into their favorite game of gossip, the only source of entertainment they had within the palace, or at least the one they seemed to be most practiced in.
"This way, Master Yurick." The maid left behind bowed, turning to lead him to the bath, room still filled with a light sheen of steam rising from the tub set up inside.
~
Zael had gone seeking out his own mentor and friend, the one who pushed for his place there within the Knights when so many were opposed to the idea and continued to endorse him whenever he found attitudes were drifting to the contrary. It wasn't the only 'loose end' he had to tie up before he could depart, but it was one that he could use to bypass the others, a quicker end to where he needed to be. But Therius had gone hours prior, still not returned from the mission he and several under his command had embarked on. It made escape infinitely easier, as those who were left behind were not prone to ask questions, though undoubtedly would be happy to carry rumors to any willing ear lent to receive them. That didn't so much bother him. People could say whatever they felt like, it made no real difference to him, for the truth was left with him. Anything else was just conjecture, and could not be relied on.
He left word were he could, making the rounds which soon ended in Calista's royal chambers, guards on constant vigil there despite its keeper being away on business. They were used to seeing him by now, casting him only a fleeting look, a bit questioning as to his intentions, but none took it upon themselves to verbalize concerns. It was within those chambers that Zael retrieved what he would need, tucking them away in his pockets already saturated with moisture, finally satisfied enough to return to his own.
As he began to move toward the door, he found a maid had promptly backed right up into him, apparently on her way to leading Yurick out to the baths. She gasped, not expecting to find herself planted against a hard chest, eyes venturing up toward the soft features of the knight, peering down at her with a question in his eyes, one brow quirked.
"My apologies, Sir Zael." She bowed, backing off of him, not out of want, but necessity.
"It's all right." He responded, too quick for her to be able to amend her statement with anything further. "You may leave Yurick and I now."
And just like that, whatever want she had was dashed. She bowed again, hiding her disappointment, before turning to venture away to join the others who would want to hear of what she had seen, only to discover that it hadn't been much.
"Sorry for taking so long." He walked over to the desk on the other side of the room, laying out across it the parchment and quill he'd taken from the room of Calista. "Hope they didn't give you too hard a time." He smirked, not having missed the embarrassment from before etched across his face. "We better hurry and get this bath over with, before trouble decides to find us." This time, it was he that led the way to the bath. "I hate to ask you this, you're already doing so much for me.... but.... I had wondered if you might help me to write a letter to Calista before we leave?" Admittedly, he wasn't very good with that sort of thing, not prone to it really. He suffered from his thoughts enough already, let alone having to repeat the nightmares of his mind by recalling them to paper. He'd just not ever had the want or desire for it.
