[ Zoya stops herself from asking if he wants her to fetch him. He's a big enough boy, and she doubts he needs her to escort him home when he's managed it many times now.
[Aren't they always nasty? He's unaware of presence outside the library; distracted by his wife, he doesn't notice the flicker of their torches nor the gathering of more than one body right outside the door.]
Well, Your Majesty... would you let a humble servant come to serve you tonight?
[Playing it up, his fingers stroke the spine of a book on a shelf as if he were caressing her face. A jingle of bells over the door hint of someone else entering the library.]
How sweet would the - ah.
[He's noticing the entry, but quick to try and finish his thought quick and quiet:]
[ Amused - ] Are you really asking me that when someone is clearly there?
[ Her hearing isn't as good as it could be while opening her dragon eye, but even Zoya can hear the jingle of bells in the distance. Anything he hears, she can hear. Isn't that how telepathy works? ]
['People', the end of his sentence, doesn't come. It squeaks out like a distant afterthought if nothing else.
The connection severs after thirty seconds to a minute, the last bolt of emotion felt bleeding through - surprise and alarm, the sense of being approached like prey as Wesley mistakes their initial approach for murder instead of protection. Because who protects people by thwacking them upside the head, anyway?
There's a chair toppled, the light of a lamp still burning and the doors left ajar to let in the cool yet humid breeze during a late night drizzle of rain. The only thing left in there is the yeti loaned from Ianthe, still caught up in simple tasks. Wholly unaffected by the disaster around. (Disaster that will be made So Much Better by Petre in time.)]
[ If Zoya weren't so intently trying to listen with her dragon ears—something that's a hard feat telepathically, given that it's such a complex thing in itself—she could easily trade the sounds in for a drüskelle attack on the opposite side of a wall. Isn't this how they sometimes track down their Grisha targets?
But she doesn't think about Nina stomping off to her fate. She stays in the present, eyes narrowing, brows furrowing as she tries to listen—
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[ Zoya stops herself from asking if he wants her to fetch him. He's a big enough boy, and she doubts he needs her to escort him home when he's managed it many times now.
With humour - ]
And before you start—I've locked the door.
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[He laughs, and by the sounds of it - is moving around on his end. Putting away a few books.]
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Now that you mention it, I haven't made you beg in a long time.
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[Said with near laughing affection.]
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You know 'Miss' is not my title, Wesley.
[ It's Commander if you want to live; Your Majesty if you're nasty. ]
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[Aren't they always nasty? He's unaware of presence outside the library; distracted by his wife, he doesn't notice the flicker of their torches nor the gathering of more than one body right outside the door.]
Well, Your Majesty... would you let a humble servant come to serve you tonight?
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If that's what you want to be. [ She much prefers peer-to-peer, but there are moments where Zoya enjoys a little power play. ]
I would only if he insists on not touching a book when he comes home. There are more interesting things to look at than your silly books.
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[Playing it up, his fingers stroke the spine of a book on a shelf as if he were caressing her face. A jingle of bells over the door hint of someone else entering the library.]
How sweet would the - ah.
[He's noticing the entry, but quick to try and finish his thought quick and quiet:]
How sweet would my reward be, if I obeyed?
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[ Her hearing isn't as good as it could be while opening her dragon eye, but even Zoya can hear the jingle of bells in the distance. Anything he hears, she can hear. Isn't that how telepathy works? ]
Petre's rubbing off on you a little too much.
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[But he's distracted, then. Boots on wood, some heavy footfalls.]
Hold on a second, there's...
[The thought is unfinished, but a feeling of confusion carries over - same with the concept of others in the room with him.]
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What?
i forgot to hit send on this, fuck
The connection severs after thirty seconds to a minute, the last bolt of emotion felt bleeding through - surprise and alarm, the sense of being approached like prey as Wesley mistakes their initial approach for murder instead of protection. Because who protects people by thwacking them upside the head, anyway?
There's a chair toppled, the light of a lamp still burning and the doors left ajar to let in the cool yet humid breeze during a late night drizzle of rain. The only thing left in there is the yeti loaned from Ianthe, still caught up in simple tasks. Wholly unaffected by the disaster around. (Disaster that will be made So Much Better by Petre in time.)]
[0] days since syd forgot to press submit
But she doesn't think about Nina stomping off to her fate. She stays in the present, eyes narrowing, brows furrowing as she tries to listen—
Her thoughts come sharply - ]
… Vasya?
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Zoya heads to the library on her one-woman mission to get her twink back. ]