jasperlion
indumasname
Anthiese may be a tad shorter than Albein (an understatement), but it still doesn't stop her from slipping her arms from behind him to loosely wrap around his neck— particularly when he's sitting down. "I hope," she says, cheek leaned against his and a familiar-looking pendant glinting through her closed grasp, "that country census isn't TOO pressing a matter to attend..."
The study he occupies feels a little less empty the more he adds to it, new items to fill in the gaps left behind when his Father’s personal effects were vacated from it and placed in storage by Albein himself after the man’s death. He’d appreciate it a little more, all the little trinkets and items that made this place a little more his own— were he not so focused on checking the numbers on the census and comparing it to the year prior.
Important work, to be sure, but he’d rather be anywhere else, and there’s so much he could actually be doing. … And the thought of it is distracting, so he quickly shakes his head and gets back to it.
Or… he would. As it turns out, through papers upon papers and numbers stained upon them in ink and crawling through his brain… someone had entered the room without his knowledge at all. Someone he ought to be quite comfortable with, for him to dismiss their presence as not a threat and simply continue to work.
But not enough to dismiss the feeling of arms around his neck and a cheek against his own, nor dismiss such sweet voice that breaks through the silence that had previously only been interrupted by shifting papers and the scratch of a feather’s tip upon it. She fills his awareness and vision, and Albein feels keenly aware of the pendant clasped in her hands, right before him, a tantalizing object with quite the curiosity within. He had been startled at first, sure, body tensing immediately and eyes widening in surprise, but as his breath evened and he got used to her presence, the feeling was replaced by a pleasant sort of warmth.
“Anthiese.” He greets, eyes flitting towards her face despite barely being able to see it, considering their positions. His left hand set the pen down gently, only to instead settle for clasping her own before him, his right following suit. “It’s a… pleasant surprise to see you here in Rigel—”
Yet he can’t help the mild stammer and pause in his words, not when his gaze keeps flitting back to her hands, nor the meaning the object clasped there carries for them both. “I… apologize for not noticing your arrival.”
Eagerness and apprehension waged a silent battle, her words, the pendant and her initiation of contact all being a… surprise as well, perhaps more so than her visit. She rarely came to Rigel to see him, even now that they were courting (again), yet more rare than that was… this.
“Perhaps a break may be in order. It would be rude of me to dismiss a guest of such import as yourself.” At the tip of his tongue lies her titles and other pleasantries, but he swallows them instead to simply relish her closeness. To… try and truly grasp that she’s here, she’s with him, and she’s… well. “To what do I owe the pleasure? You are, after all, my favorite guest to host.”
… What did this mean? Was he misinterpreting her actions? Surely, they were to court, but along that came the confusion of what it meant for them — they of separate worlds. Anthiese was being awfully forward… it drove his curiosity in a fast-paced march towards answers.
Hands tremble ever so slightly as he grasps them, but they do little next to nothing in blocking the strange warmth emanating from what was held within— the pleasant warmth she herself feels from the obvious intent in his actions. ... Ah, but if his words are any indication to her... then perhaps she's come on a little too strong than what he would consider of her as 'usual behavior'. After all, it only seemed so long ago that he'd second-guessed the intention of her half-muttered threats to the whispers of nobles as a simple jest.
"Maybe it IS in order," Anthiese agrees, a smile in her voice, "but there's no need for an apology when you were MEANT not to notice me." It certainly wouldn't be the first time she's come to His Imperial Majesty's estate uninvited. Granted, said occurrence happened during their first attempt at courting and, well... They've picked up the pieces together. That's all that matters. Her eyes move away from their joined hands and the various things adorned in this little room to the parchments of drying ink before them. ... Such a room doesn't exist in the castle she calls her home, unless the one she stuffed with scrolls and tomes from top to bottom is where she should be doing the same sort of work to corroborate Zofia's information with Rigel's. Is that why she decided to come here— to save herself from being buried by the mountain of paperwork appropriate of a throne-ruler... and maybe save her partner from the same fate? Perhaps. "It is all the same pleasant to see you as well at— your home, I suppose, particularly if you say I am your favorite," she decides after a moment of considering the right set of words, as she always does— and always she'd give it the right care and attention, since... "—that is to say, you are much more at ease than... when you've been at MY estate. And you are plenty familiar with it than I of yours... among other things.
"Which may be the first order of business as to why I'm here!" With her right hand clutched around her pendant, Anthiese gently pulls away from him, and slowly enough that she certainly wouldn't resist being pulled back. "I believe I'm only really familiar with two or three places now in your 'humble' abode. ... Your guest hall, the private dining quarters, and now...... here." To which she throws a playful smirk at him. "If I AM your favorite guest, as you say... then I can only wonder if you show your UNFAVORED guests straight to the portcullis... or down to the dungeons. Or is this where you go to truly unwind after seeing me?"