mornings are things she conquers slowly, in her own way. sleep came rarely, bringing with it troublesome dreams that made staying awake much more appealing. as such, she is often among the first that wander their way to the kitchens, typically in search of tea and quiet. today, it appears she is not the first, and that who is has apparently taken upon themselves the task of serving breakfast for the crew.
a task that is nothing if not monolithic for a single person to undertake, she notes, but does not address.
instead, the red shawl that adorned her is tugged closer to her frame to battle the morning chill, while her free hand pulls a chair from underneath the table — her life of privilege leading her to not question the immediate service, and instead merely accept it as something that is. a habit she would need to abolish moving forward, lest she became that which she disliked.
‘ — good morning narmaya. tea, if you would. ’ conversation between them had been sparse, yet for those outside of her frequent sorties or own social circle, it so often was. not out of dislike ( usually ), but a reason similar to the swordswoman herself — beyond her vassals, the triumvirate that had brought them all together, her attention so rarely wavered.
“ got it! ” narmaya turns back to her task with vigor, but with it underlies a feeling that makes her fingers shake slightly as she pours the water into the cup. percival is a noble from wales, bearing a title high enough to take command of an entire army should she find the need to do so; this leaves narmaya with the urge to make things with perfection lest she be deemed useless by the first person she wants to serve in kind, regardless of the knowledge that percival may be strict but not cruel.
this, along with the plethora of issues that surfaced in the wake of her newfound freedom, makes her heart beat like the wings of a bird pursued. how did i go from wanting to please my uncle to wanting to please a crew mate instead?
one step at a time, narmaya, she reminds herself. a person can’t change overnight.
with anxiety firing her nerves into overdrive, she places two cups of tea before percival and herself then settles down on the chair across from the knight. “ i-i’m not sure if it’s on par with what you usually drink in the morning but... i hope it’s to your liking. ”
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