cont.
@unfaltr // kasef.
nothing has changed.” you, unwavering son of sun - dried kingdom, have hardly trembled with hesitance during the long march into xadia. kasef’s voice rings with matching resolve now too, as if the mere suggestion of softening / shifting sentiment stood in antithesis to the prince’s very nature. he turned slightly at claudia’s question, brows set in their characteristic furrow and down-turned mouth. nothing about this response is inherently dismissive. everything about these mannerisms, this surety could be unyielding enough to chafe like arrogance against those unaccustomed. he has been detached from her so far, unsure of how to engage beyond small talk & more than once put off by both siblings’ bright quirks or antics. behind them the joined armies, thousands strong, were neatly camped. before them, the distant outskirts of the sprawling, glittering lux aurea rose golden on the horizon. viren had already quested off alone towards sunfire palace to gain some crucial power to help turn the tide in their favor, leaving them all to wait ‘til his return. the moment, though ripe with the anticipation of waiting, granted everyone a pause to breathe. he must have looked contemplative standing upon the high ground, glowering out over the land.
“i am not used to waiting on a single person’s wager. from what he said this thing could make our advantage in the war, but your father failed to explain what exactly he plans to do after riding into the enemy alone.” katolis’ military might was known throughout the human kingdoms, but now the small wonders came. his own unfamiliarity with the stuff of magic power, burgeoning questions of katolian competence & leadership in the wake of their upset throne. child-kings and treason ( her too in manacles, declared a criminal when he’d entered their royal court. ) kasef would not waver. might through unity would serve them best. but he could frown, and he could talk. “if he doesn’t play this well, the only thing he gambles is his own life.”
“There is a reason he didn’t explain the plan.” She knows, even if father had not said such, even if she knows not what that reason might be (wouldn’t it be best if they were prepared? how would they know if the plan was working or interference was needed?). Yet trust must be placed somewhere, and there is nowhere safe but family to place it, she has learned with recent losses. Claudia tucks strand of white hair behind her ear, gaze falling to the golden city. Something in her heart twists; it is sickening to be left without a clue, meant to wait without knowing for what, having no indication on what plans were beyond vague implication of their importance. Surely enough, she of all people long learned father would oft act without explaining, plans all his own except when he so chose to share; yet when his own life is at risk, bargaining chip as he makes of it, she cannot avoid worry in spite of her certainty father would succeed.
Certainty with which she spoke falters in gaze for a second alone (he would not see; she stares at Lux Aurea still, at its golden shine so distinctly visible even in the distance). Turned to the foreign prince once more, neither fear nor concern shines through, lighthearted enough stance in spite of darkened feelings; she is good at this, better than others see, better than Claudia herself realizes at times: it is all too simple to slip the mask of cheerfulness and almost feel like it’s real. “But my dad is risking his life so no one else will have to. He is fighting for us all.” Even if she knew not how, even if ‘twas already too great a risk, losing him --- he fought for humanity. He did what had to be done. “He isn’t stupid though. If he went to Lux Aurea by himself, he knows he can handle it alone --- there’s no reason to be so concerned.”
Was that reassurance to him, permanent frown already replacing thoughtful gaze, or to herself, fear bubbling beneath the skin?
