@loyal-to-the-end
The tranquility of the early morning over the astral sanctuary did not penetrate into the abode nestled in the boughs of the ancient tree. It was as if the walls of the simple house caged the energy of the inhabitant, her diminished expression seeming to multiply and pile upon itself until the restlessness was almost palpable. It was an unfamiliar air, even for Vanora herself; her last clear memory of experiencing such anxiety was when she was a child newly come to Nohr. A part of her was mildly grateful that most of the Hoshidans had yet to learn to read her, though in all honesty only the royals and her four retainers had ever achieved the feat. Indeed, Gunter had given her looks this morning during breakfast, and Jakob had put an extra sugar cube into her tea…
This is ridiculous, she’d been telling herself - to the point of near-chanting - for the past hour. It’s a simple request, how hard can it be? The answer being, if her current circumstance was anything to go by, nigh impossible. An hour - an entire bloody hour - and her best progress had been to reach the door only to end up pacing for a minute before sitting herself back down in her chair. Doubt plagued her mind, a dervish of questions and insecurities. Perhaps asking Sakura would be a better option? Or maybe even Oboro; if the princess recalled, the lancer had some experience in this particular field, and whenever she saw the woman she always seemed well put-together.
The thought was hesitantly brushed away. She didn’t seem to have a high opinion on Nohrians (there had most definitely been a stinkeye or three thrown at her butler and knight) and she was Takumi’s retainer, and gods forbid the albino sour her already terse relationship with her estranged blood-brother.
Not for the first time, the thought of asking Jakob resurfaced in Vanora’s thoughts. He was quite learned in a number of things, and if nothing else had a better taste than she did. And not for the first time, she shoved it aside. A pair of blatant Nohrians in Hoshidan territory was no better than a declaration of war; at least, if someone of native garb was with her, there would be less of a chance for a commotion to break out. Not to mention, he already did so much for her without her even asking. A slow breath in, an even longer one out. Okay, Nora. No backing out this time. It’s just a yes or no question, no need to beat around the bush about it.
Locating the shinobi in question wasn’t terribly difficult; Vanora would not say she was incredibly familiar with the man, but the princess at least had an idea of where to look. Once she’d spotted his telltale purple scarf, the young woman hailed him.
“Good morning, Kaze,” came her polite greeting, coupled with a small inclination of her head toward him. “I’m sorry to bother you so early in the day. Would you happen to know of any good tailors in Hoshido…?”
