Winthrope walks into the room, not really looking around or paying any mind whatsoever to anything around here. Turning to the wall, she sets her staff against it and then removes her cloak; hanging it on a hook.
Ashbrook peers over the top of his book. "Good afternoon, Miss Winthrope," he says softly, turning the page.
Winthrope starts at Rhys's voice coming from behind her. Doing her best to play it off, she inhaled a deep, calming breath - bowed her head down towards the floor and closed her eyes. When she finally opened her eyes, she turned around with a forced smile of confidence. "Ah, Mister Ashbrook! I did not see you there."
Ashbrook lowers the book, setting it flat on the table. No more hiding! He clears his throat. "Yes, well, I...do try not to be disruptive."
Winthrope moves across the room towards the table and takes a seat across from him. Squinting lightly in thought, she gave him a quick once over. "I'm not disrupting anything, am I?"
Ashbrook shakes his head, finding it so much easier to look at her now that she's in something other than that dress. "Not at all, Miss Winthrope. I, ah--" He clears his throat again. "I haven't been sleeping well, so I thought a little reading might help."
Winthrope gives the book he was a reading a quick glance - seeing whatever she could of a title if one was indeed there. "Seems to be going around lately. Sleep hasn't come to m..." Her eyes widen slightly at her near slip. "My friend. Though, I believe we're onto something with this dreamless sleep potion. Yes. Quite onto something!"
Winthrope crosses one dainty leg over the other and proceeds to smooth out the lap of her robes, looking down with a silent sigh of relief. With a nod, she found herself able to function a little better now. "Yes. I suppose moving from one place to another can disrupt certain patterns." Lifting her chin, she looked across the way at him with an arched brow, "I trust you are adapting well to a larger space at least?"
Ashbrook nods. "Oh yes...I already have plans to set up a sewing machine and get a second mannequin--the one I have is only suited to the female form. And beyond that...the furnishings are quite nice. The bed--" He pauses, though the thought is innocent. "Is much more comfortable. That's no doubt why I'm having trouble," he finishes lamely.
Winthrope laughed softly, "You're not use to a comfortable bed?" Her thoughts were not so innocent.
Ashbrook coughs again. He really should have brought a drink down with him. "Well, back in Gilneas, yes--but the quarters provided by the church when I arrived in the city were fairly spartan, and the bed in my original room here was on the smaller side, given that it was part of a bunk bed..."
Winthrope nodded as she sat there listening to him. She continued to smooth out the lap of her robes a bit obsessively, looking down once again. "Well, I certainly hope you are able to get use to the comfort. I wouldn't simply give such larger space away to those undeserving of it."
Ashbrook takes his glasses off, and busies himself cleaning them on the sleeve of his robe. They're not dirty, but it's something to do with his hands. He glances up at her. "I certainly appreciate the gesture, Miss Winthrope." He slips his glasses back on. "And I read that correspondence you mentioned."
Winthrope blinks in recognition. How had she forgotten that so easily? "Oh, yes..." she looked to him - a slight twinge of sadness to her gaze. She felt terrible. "Horrible thing what happened."
Ashbrook nods, leaning forward slightly. "I will, of course, accompany you to Stranglethorn."
Winthrope looks at him, a weak smile forming. "I certainly appreciate it. I doubt they are looking spare the few medics they do keep down in Fort Livingston. I just hope we won't need any form of medical back-up."
Ashbrook sighs softly. "That's always the hope, but--given the nature of what's happened, there's no way I could not go with you," he says, before quickly adding, "And whoever else is coming with us."
Winthrope rests her hands on the table and looks down to the few rings she wore. Not really looking at them, just in thought. With a sigh, she drooped her shoulders a bit. "Fisc was a good man. He didn't deserve to go the way that he did."
Ashbrook says: I'm sorry I didn't get to meet him. But I'll do my part to make sure he's properly laid to rest at least.
Winthrope exhaled a shaky breath - doing her best to keep her emotions in check. Her eyes watered but no tears fell - thankfully Koirah mastered the art of not-crying in public. "Thank you, Mister Ashbrook. I suspect we'll be leaving over the weekend."
Ashbrook finds himself reaching out with his hand, but that table is too long for him to lay a reassuring hand anywhere. Instead he lays it on the opened book instead, and closes it. "I'll make sure I'm ready, then," he says. His gaze is sympathetic. "I take it the two of you were close, then."
Winthrope catches sight of his hand movement with a small, hardly noticeable glance. When she saw the book closing, she immediately looked back to her hands. The small distraction did seem to aid in calming her some. "There was a time when I thought he might ask my sister's hand." She responded, finding herself smiling at the thought. "He was closer to her than he was to me. Though, we were close enough, I suppose."
Ashbrook folds his hands together on the tabletop. "Ah, your sister. I haven't had the chance to meet her, yet."
Winthrope smirks, "Well, if there's one thing about her - she's not the marrying sort of woman. No more than I am, I suppose." Pushing a piece of hair back behind her ear, she looked upwards. "Actually, she's worse."
Winthrope says: So, you can only imagine the relationship she shared with Fisc.
Ashbrook chuckles softly, lowering his gaze. "Well, it says something about his character, I suppose--that he was not daunted."
Winthrope leans back into her chair with her arms folded over her chest. She can't help but smirk at her response. "Neile may not find it sexy, but I do love a persistent man. Suppose that's where we differ. Though, I didn't find him very appealing, personally."
Ashbrook looks back up at her. "Persistence is a good thing," he agrees, "Especially in these adverse times..."
Winthrope looks back at him. A small smirk lingered on her face as she stared at him, unsure of what else to say to that. "I... yes, I suppose so."
Ashbrook flushed slightly under her gaze--not certain at all about what that little smirk meant. "In any case...you can count on me, Miss Winthrope." For the mission to Stranglethorn, he meant. Of course.
Winthrope didn't quite notice the faint blush - but there was a change to his face that made her think twice. Relaxing her hands on her knee, she inclined her dark head towards him. "Please, call me Koirah. It feels so motherly being called Miss."
Ashbrook gives a single nod of his head, almost a bow of sorts. "As you wish, Miss--ah, Koirah." This was going to be a hard habit to break. "But if so, then you must call me Rhys," he adds with a smile.
Winthrope flushed and it was noticeable. The moment she felt the heat radiating off of her cheeks, she lowered her head, smiling at hearing him use her first name. "Rhys it is then."
Ashbrook clears his throat again. It must be particularly dry today... "Yes, well--I suppose we know each other well enough to move past such formality."
Winthrope just keeps looking at her lap. The heat was still there on her cheeks and she was definitely not looking up to reveal the complexion change. How embarrassing. "Well, according to your eye with proper proportions - I'd say you know me better than I thought." She said with a hidden smirk. She couldn't help herself!
Ashbrook makes a small, half-strangled sound. He'd almost managed to forget that dress, and how it had flattered her...proportions. His own cheeks flush red. "Well, I am not a novice tailor," he manages, once he can speak again.
Winthrope chances a glance across the way to him - more so at the strange sound he made. She notices the complexion change on him as well - and can't help but smirk more. She tries, in her most sincere tone to say, "I'm sorry. That was a bit much. I just - well, no, you're not a novice."
Ashbrook just stares at her a moment, feeling like he was in quite over his head. He didn't recall ever feeling so off-balance in talking to anyone before. "I am pleased that you liked the gown," he says. "And now that you know the quality of my work, perhaps I can see to more of your tailoring needs in the future."
Winthrope stares right back at him - not shying away this time. She might have enjoyed seeing him uncomfortable in that moment. It humored her - and it even made her feel a little better about all of the thoughts she was having. "Well, I do have to say that I am an admirer of your work now. How much do you charge?" She smirked softly, taking a moment to look at her fingernails. "Name your price."
Ashbrook blinks. He hadn't even gotten that far yet, as far as prices went. He was not familiar with the prices other tailors in Stormwind were charging compared to those in Gilneas. "Well, really--it comes down to the materials being used, and the complexity of the design."
Winthrope bats her long eyelashes at him - doing her best to lighten up the mood. Regardless of what others thought, she did have a silly side. "Wonder if I could get some sort of a discount."
Ashbrook might be staring, just a little. "I--absolutely, Miss Winth--ah, Koirah," he says, catching himself at the last minute.
Winthrope tries her best to keep her eyes locked with his, but a sudden moment of weakness - perhaps fear of what may happen next had gripped her too much, and so she looked down at her lap again. Her cheeks burned.
Winthrope says: Nonsense... y-you will receive every coin those crafty hands deserve.
Winthrope gulps. She commented on his hands.
Ashbrook has to look away--he can feel the heat rising in his cheeks again. It's the sort of flush he's only ever gotten from a night of particularly drinking. He looks down at his hands, callouses and all. "Nonsense," he murmurs. "If we're on a first name basis now, I'm sure I can manage a discount for you as well."
Winthrope never noticed how blue the stone in her binding ring was. Huh. How pretty. She just stares at it - trying to fight back many scenarios running through her mind. "You're too kind."
Ashbrook clears his throat again. It was rapidly becoming a new nervous habit. "I suppose it would be good...for building a reputation I mean, for my designs to be seen around the city. Particularly if they're worn by someone with such superb...proportions."
As quick as lightning, Koirah's attention snaps right up to Rhys once more. Her brown eyes wide. There was no way she heard him correctly! She just stares at him in disbelief for a moment - unaware how red her face was right now. The apples hanging from the trees around the city would be jealous. "...you really think so?" She questioned breathlessly. How stupid she must have sounded. And of course she already knew the answer to that herself!
Ashbrook nods and shifts slightly in his seat, so that the candelabra between them blocks his face a little. "I think...a lot of my female clients back in Gilneas would have counted themselves blessed had they your form," he says--and is instantly mortified. Blessed? Was that any way for a priest to be describing a woman's shape? "I mean simply that...well..." He clears his throat again.
Winthrope's wide-eyed shock finally subsides and a coy grin slowly forms across her lips. Waving a hand through the air in a sweeping gesture, the candelabra Rhys was attempting to hide behind moved to side. "Oh? Blessed you say? From a professional point of view, I'm sure." She may have started having a little bit of fun with this. This could be bad.
Ashbrook flushes pink again, wondering just which one of his professions she referred to. "I, um, well--" He sucks in a breath. "Of course," he finally says, struggling to regain his composure.
Winthrope cants her head to the side, looking at him rather innocently. "Rhys?"
Ashbrook folds his hands neatly in front of him. "Yes?" he asks, managing to look at her again.
Winthrope suddenly decides that it's best that she doesn't ask him whatever it was she was going to - and pushes herself back against her chair comfortably. With a smile, she just shook her head. "Nevermind. It's not appropriate. I apologize. I hope I haven't made you uncomfortable."
Ashbrook shakes his head. "Certainly not, Mi--Koirah." He was getting better at this! He takes another breath, then lets it out softly, feeling some of his tension ease. "Koirah," he says again, as if his slip before hadn't happened. "In any case, should you need any tailoring done, you know where to find me."
Winthrope chuckles at the small slip-up with a dismissive wave of her hand. With a nod, she finished her chuckle with a smile. "I will remember that. Thank you."
Winthrope mused aloud, "Rhys."
Ashbrook nods, pulling his hands back to wipe them surreptitiously on his robes. His palms were sweating, he was so nervous. "It's been nice chatting with you," he says, reaching out to pull the book closer. "But I think I might...continue reading upstairs, in the hopes that my sleep might be better tonight."
Winthrope smiled, "I look forward to having you along when we travel to Fort Livingston. I hope sleep finds you well. Good night, Rhys." She looked to her lap again, knowing full and well sleep would be terrible tonight for her.
Ashbrook stands, smoothing out his robes. He picks up the book, and nods. "Good night," he says, pausing a moment before adding, "Koirah." It's his turn to make a hasty retreat up the stairs.
Miss Merton had been diligent in bringing his possessions to his new room. Everything was there, in the same condition they'd been--he could swear his clothes were even hung in the same order they'd been in the smaller room. The first thing Rhys did was open the window, and look out over the city below. The view from the third floor was a mixed blessing--the park still lay in ruins, but he could see over what remained to the sea itself, and that was nice. Besides that, the air carried the scent of apple blossoms from the trees planted throughout the city.
He stood back from the window, hands reaching for the straps that held his heavy pauldrons in place. He'd worn his most impressive armored robes tonight--not because there was anything hazardous about spending time with an orphan boy, but because he'd always believed that part of the reason for Children's Week was to tell them: There is nothing outside your reach. You can be anything you want...even this.
Rhys hadn't expected to see Koirah--and not in that dress. Even now, as he set the sculpted pauldrons on the floor of his wardrobe, a faint blush rose on his cheeks. He wasn't sure what had been worse--when he'd looked, or when he hadn't. He was sure either way she knew that he was quite aware of how low cut the dress was.
Rhys sighed, and slid off the robes next, hanging them so they wouldn't crease. He was still formally dressed underneath, in shirt and tie and medium-weight wool slacks. He collapsed into a chair, removing his wire-rimmed glasses to wipe a hand over his face. Why had he given her such a revealing gown in the first place? What had he hoped to accomplish?
To show her that she is still young, and beautiful...and that there is nothing outside her reach. It was, in it's own way, not so different from the lesson he was trying to teach young Randis this week. And yet...so very different. The boy, he hoped to inspire to pursue whatever profession he desired. Miss Winthrope on the other hand...
She's out of your league.
The thought caught him completely off guard, and he lowered his hand, grey eyes opening in surprise. Wait...what? There was no league. "I am not--" He'd intended to say he was not courting her. But who had he wanted her to wear the gown for, if not for him?
Rhys groaned softly. Light save him...he was acting like a fool. That she continued to indulge him likely said more about the fact that he was the only medic on the council than anything else. He slipped his glasses back on, and searched the desk for the correspondence she'd mentioned. Anything to distract him from his current train of thought.
My colleagues,
It is with a heavy heart that I write to announce the passing of Brant Fisc. Most of you may not quite know who he was, but the man was a well-respected friend to the council’s interests - primarily working alongside our preservists in the collection efforts of the resources and researches utilized within our very walls.
The manner of his death suggests heavy mana extraction that is alarming on all levels, as several others have recently gone missing and turned up in the same manner. More importantly, Fisc’s apprentice, Alcot Shearman who has never made it to Fort Livingston to collect Fisc’s remains.
I will be requiring all able-bodied members to assist me with not only the collection of Fisc’s remains, but to offer any aid that may be required of us out of Fort Livingston. Please be advised that this research and investigation effort is highly dangerous.
Signed,
Koirah Winthrope
Rhys frowned, reading the letter over twice. She intended to look into this--a mage herself, she intended to go investigate the death of others stripped of their mana and vital organs. Highly dangerous indeed. He glanced to the wardrobe, and his armored robes within. He would go, that much was certain. He was the only medic available at the moment, and he did not intend that she and the others go without him. He might be confused as to what he felt for the woman--there is no league, I am making no moves...I think--but he knew he couldn't bear to hear of her being left at the Fort in such a state.
Winthrope emerges from the residence, smoothing out her gown. She really just wanted to see how she felt wearing it outside. Honestly! Her eyes glance downward, admiring how the fabric clung perfectly to her form.
Ashbrook passes an ice cream cone to the boy next to him, and then turns back to the vendor. "And I'll have anoth--" Movement catches his eye, and as he realizes who it is--and what she's wearing--the rest of his sentence flies from his head.
Winthrope looks up at a familiar voice coming from nearby. Turning her head into the direction of the candy vendor's wagon, she -just- freezes seeing Rhys standing there. Losing color in her face, she fumbled with what to say. "...I was just...good evening, um - good evening, Mister Ashbrook."
Ashbrook, finding himself staring, turns back to the vendor and clears his throat. "Another strawberry ice cream cone," he continues, before his gaze darts back to Koira. Little Randis licks his cone, oblivious to the awkward grown ups around him. "I'm glad to see it fits," Rhys adds weakly.
Winthrope says: I mean... who. Who is that?
Ashbrook steps aside slightly so she can see the boy better. "This is Randis. I'll be taking him here and there this week...we've just stopped for ice cream before he has to go back to the orphanage for the night." The vendor passes him his ice cream, and he turns back to her gratefully. He could -feel- the blush setting in. "Would you care for a cone as well, Miss Winthrope?"
Ashbrook darts a glance at Koirah.
Winthrope tilts her head to the side slightly, looking at the child. The way she looked at him was almost as if she were looking at something alien. She smiled at the child - however awkward it was managed. "Me?" she questioned, looking to Rhys again - her own cheeks a little pink. "Do you really think that a good idea in such a beautiful dress?"
Ashbrook smiles, pleased that she likes the gown. He still can't quite manage to look at her directly, however. "I'm glad you like it--but I also wouldn't want you to only wear it at home, afraid to get it dirty."
Winthrope, having regained most of her composure, moves closer to where Rhys and the little boy stood. With an innocent smile, Koirah turned slightly, modeling her new gown. She wasn't being too subtle about it. "I suppose. But it is lovely, yes? These features are just.... well, you have talent, good sir."
Ashbrook opens his mouth and closes it again, seemingly at a loss for words. He can't -not- look at her, and it's only when strawberry ice cream trickles down over one of his knuckles that he realizes he's stood silent too long. "Oh, uh...yes, well--Gilnean ladies are discerning sorts, and you either learn to get good at this sort of thing, or you don't stay in business long..."
Winthrope turns fully towards him, standing quite still now. Her eyes happen to take a glance upwards, noting the darkening sky. "It's going to be quite dark soon. Does this child have a curfew or something?" She was a little disappointed the child was there, but she maintained a healthy tone full of pleasantness.
Ashbrook blinks. "Oh...yes! They'll be wondering where he is before long..." He realizes his ice cream is still dripping, and turns the cone to lick it before it drips further. "If you were going for a walk...perhaps you'd like to come with?" He's not even sure he's putting together complete sentences anymore. Randis seems happy enough to just eat his ice cream.
Winthrope puts a hand to her mouth, laughing quietly under her breath. With her other hand, she motions towards the dripping ice cream. "That is precisely why I will have to politely decline the messy sweets. My thanks, however." With an arched brow, she glances back towards the residence in thought, wondering if she might change first. When she had returned her attention to Rhys, she exhaled, "Well, I was going to change - but why not? This dress could use a trial run."
Ashbrook nods, and turns to pat Randis on the head. "Come along, then," he says to the boy. "Tomorrow I'll take you on the tram to see Ironforge. But tonight...it's off to bed." The boy pouts slightly...but it's clear he's also tired. Rhys turns back to Koirah.
Ashbrook says: It's not a terribly long walk at least...
Winthrope watches the exchange between the young boy and Rhys. She wrinkled her nose a little, successfully fighting back a smile. When Rhys turned back to her, the smile was there. Quite the polite, elegant one she was known for. "I do enjoy a nice stroll in the evening. Perhaps I can catch you up with some room changes. We spoke briefly before about it."
Ashbrook blinks. "Oh, yes--I'd quite forgotten." His little project had kept him busy, and distracted. He turns slightly to look toward the Cathedral district. "Shall we?"
Winthrope nods, motioning towards the Cathedral area. "Oh, by all means - lead the way."
Winthrope eyes the child with a high arched brow, but says nothing directly to -it-.
Ashbrook licks his ice cream as he walks.
Winthrope says: Anyway, with your recent promotion, it is only natural you receive a proper room all to yourself.
Winthrope says: I'd offer the same to Miss Ceallach, but I have not had a chance to speak to her lately.
Ashbrook says: That would be quite generous of you...I understand space is limited.
Winthrope smirks, "Yes, well - I fibbed in the beginning."
Winthrope says: The third floor is quite spacious. I use two rooms. There are three other rooms up there just collecting dust. I figured, why not open them up to those deserving?
Ashbrook blinks, turning a questioning look to Koirah. But--here they are. He smiles at the Matron. "Here's Randis, safe and sound..." As the woman ushers the boy inside, he turns back to Koirah. "I...don't know what to say. Except to thank you for your trust..."
Winthrope watches the child run back into the building - relief settling in. She motions with her head for Rhys to follow her - talking back into the direction they came from. "You honestly do not need to thank me. No more than Miss Ceallach. Not that she would." Laughing at the last bit, Koirah looks over her shoulder making sure he was following. "Thank you for the gown. You know I was teasing about owing me one?"
Winthrope stops near the canal to rest for a moment.
Ashbrook nods. "I do...yes. But I still felt I wanted to give you some token of my..." He searches for the right word. "Appreciation."
Winthrope's eyes widen at the long pause in between words - wondering what he could possibly say. Her cheeks burned suddenly. Hearing the last word finally, she exhaled softly and glanced to him - a weak smile presenting itself. "I....I don't know how to counter that." With a small laugh, she turned to face him fully. "I suppose a larger room helps in showing my appreciation then, hm?"
Ashbrook nods and smiles. "I was thinking I might get back to doing some tailoring...just on the side, mind you. But there's a certain satisfaction I get from doing something well, and the focus required for the fine details is almost as good as meditation. A larger room would allow me more space to work."
Winthrope nods, motioning out over the waters of the canal. "Well, lucky for you - now you will be able to do just that. I have already taken the liberty of having Miss Merton move your things to your new quarters. When you return to the house, she will be there to assist you with showing you just where you need to go."
Winthrope says: I hope you don't mind.
Ashbrook blinks. "I, ah--no, that's fine," he says, looking distracted for a moment as he thinks about his belongings, and if there's anything a woman shouldn't be seeing. The sketches he'd done for Koirah's dress were tucked away in a book, and that really only left his undergarments to worry about. That was slightly mortifying, but... He blushes faintly. "I'm sure I'll settle in fine."
Winthrope tucks her hair behind an ear, observing Rhys a moment. No - actually, she was lost staring at him. It likely looked odd. She actually didn't say anything to follow-up with what he had just said.
Ashbrook nibbles at the remains of his cone, staring out over the canal. He's aware of Koirah looking at him--and he darts another glance her way, squaring his shoulders, struggling for dignity even as he held a strawberry ice cream cone. He no doubt looked silly.
Winthrope doesn't quite realize she's staring off into space RIGHT at Rhys; her thoughts carrying her off. When she realized what she was doing, she shook her head slowly from side to side. "Right. So, where were we?"
Ashbrook pops the last little piece of cone into his mouth, and chews it quickly. "My things have been moved," he says. "That's as far as we got..." He surreptitiously wipes his sticky fingers on a part of his robes where it won't be too obvious.
Winthrope turns quickly to look back out at the canal. She blushed slightly - a little embarrassed this side of her was succeeding in making her look foolish. "Oh, well then - I suppose that was all there was to that."
Ashbrook runs a hand through his hair--a nervous habit. He hadn't meant to make her feel bad, and he feared he'd done just that.
Winthrope looks at her reflection in the water; admiring the dress on her form once again. She also see Rhys's reflection, prompting her to glance over towards him. "I am sure you are anxious to settle into your new room. Please, do not let me keep you."
Ashbrook glances at her, then back out over the canal. Her words had the sound of a dismissal, and he bows his head slightly. So he -had- offended her. "Of course," he murmurs. "The night grows late, and I should get myself settled." He turns toward her, his expression earnest. "Good night, Miss Winthrope."
Winthrope turns towards him, giving him a proper and respectable incline of her head. "Yes. I should return myself for that very reason. I'm afraid I didn't sleep very well last evening." She smiled at him. Not at all offended - at least she knew that! "Good night, Mister Ashbrook. Please check your letters as well. I sent several - Miss Merton would have placed it in your room."
Ashbrook nods. "I'll be sure to do that," he says. "And if you're headed back as well...I could walk with you, if you wish."
Winthrope nodded, "That would be most welcome. The least you could do is make it impossible for other men to speak to me while in this dress." She laughed, teasing. Though, it sounded a lot better in her head she came to realize. Turning swiftly on her heel, she started off; cheeks on fire.
Ashbrook follows, looking almost as embarrassed.
Winthrope says: You know what I mean, I'm sure.
Winthrope clears her throat loudly.
Ashbrook nods wordlessly.
Winthrope says: So um...
Winthrope tries to say as casually as possible, "Do you know anything about any cure-alls for strange dreams?"
Winthrope says: I have a friend who ...inquired.
Ashbrook purses his lips. "As in...to have a different sort of dream instead? No. Though I have heard that a skilled alchemist can make a potion which will prevent dreams altogether."
Winthrope gives Rhys a casual once-over before nodding at the information being absorbed. Clearing her throat again, she nodded. "Stopping them could help. Perhaps?" Waving a hand dismissively, she chuckled. "I will pass the word along. I've had little time to look into small requests like that lately. Anyway - I am off to bed. Good luck getting settled in."
Ashbrook nods, looking almost relieved. "I'm glad I could help. Good night, Miss Winthrope."
Winthrope turns promptly and heads up the stairs - faster than usual.
Rhys sat regarding it critically on the dressmaker's mannequin for a long while, thinking. He himself was as casual as he ever got--in slacks, a long sleeved shirt and sweater, the sleeves rolled up almost to the elbows so that the savage scar on his forearm was exposed. Here, in the privacy of his room, he could let himself be at ease.
He pulled his glasses off, and cleaned the lenses with a scrap of cloth, more for something to do with his hands. It was finished. All that remained was to give it to her. He slipped his glasses back on, and stood. "Right, then," he murmured, carefully unlacing the gown so it could be pulled from the mannequin. Once that was done, he laced it back up, and folded it neatly before placing it in a large box. He bound it in a length of silk ribbon, and slipped out into the hall.
Rhys did not want to give it to her in person. So he skulked through the house until he found the young maid Briona, gave her his most winning smile and implored her assistance in the matter--asking her to take the package and leave it in Koirah's room. There was no note, but the tag in the garment bore his mark. He was still a professional after all, and it wouldn't sit well to present a garment he was unwilling to put his name to. She would know it came from him.
He just didn't want to be there when she opened it.
[12:31] CM: Ah y0u are in quite a scenari0 i see, and i saw h0w the name was s0 easily changed h0wever y0u are here and that was then and this is n0w s0 why n0t live in the m0ment? Be the m0st 0pt0mistic 0pt0mist y0u can be. Tehe
