when: 4th of maccius where: the imperial library who: @iseultrayne

"don’t suppose you’ll be going on one of your supply runs soon?” he doesn’t look up from his scrolls, doesn’t stop in his writing. doesn’t attempt to be more forthright in his peckishness, because it isn’t needed. iseult has spoiled him with his regular, illicit kitchen routes, pilfering pastries and wordlessly laying them upon his desk with his return, such that his own belly notices the absence in routine. ‘what kind of hound are you trying to train?’ he asked, once.

"don't suppose you'll make quick work of a cannelés should i happen to?" as always, pleasantly whip-quick. savatier stops writing after a beat, turns to face the mercenary, bare face to mask.

“suppose i would.”

rain hits the glass panes of the windows in its torrential downpour like pebbles across the surface of a lake; a tepid droning quiet following the raucous events of the week. it seems val faim’s long reign of uneventful peace has come to an end. if it’s not a beheading in the afternoon, it’s a magicked explosion in the evening, every threat sending the empress and her retinue scurrying into frenzied investigation. it’d certainly be something to spectate, this privileged position of his, enough on the periphery to play witness, if it didn’t threaten the summer palace - and his own safety, by proxy. 

though, the concern with the latter is negligible. what is left to fear when you’ve seen the dregs of creation and the beasts damned by the earth? when your lover’s bones mingles with dirt? what is left for him? 

iseult often finds him lost in thought, and when he feels a breeze brush behind him, he doesn’t think much of it - until he realizes he didn’t hear the doors open, and sees the dagger speared through his desk, narrowly missing where his hand rested upon his scrolls. 

he staggers back wordlessly, back slamming against a bookshelf his shout for iseult lodged in his throat. in his periphery, a cloaked and masked figure emerges from the shadows, drawing closer. if it came down to it, he could try and delay them, slow their steps even a fraction a second, the whip of their blade... but should iseult return and see, what would become of him then?