Fingers held tight against the hard, elegant shaft of his quill when sounds came from his doors. He knew it was Alayne before she announced herself, after memorizing the soft patterns of her slippers against stone. He looked up as she spoke of supper. Mossy hues landing upon the tray within her hands and he tried to retain the look of distaste. Lately, his appetite had been less then normal, eating rarely, mostly fruits or sweet meats when he craved them. But he offered a smile of thanks as she came to him, “I am sorry, but these ravens must be finished.“ Eyes meeting hers, ”Thank you, Sweetling.”
:: 〖 ❣ 〗――— ::
He is working too hard. Alayne
can miss him for whole days sometimes
and it leaves her in the company of none
except Robin who spends a lot of time in
his room– She thinks, a little restlessly,
she has spent a lot of time in this keep.
Setting the tray down, she takes
a step back and clasps her hands in front
of her, curious blue eyes studying his table
and the letter, mid correspondence. She
meets his gaze, her expression open.
“Is there anything I can do to help, my lord?”