Title - One's Thoughts
Synopsis - Her charge is growing older; Flora muses about some things on the job.
Her hair was pale, thick, and wild—curling every which way, almost as if to spite gravity. Flora sighed and fussed as she brushed the knots out. "Milady, surely you wouldn't mind a braid, at least?"
Corrin's refusal was quick and vehement. "I like wearing it free! Putting it up gives me head aches."
"Just as shoes pinch your toes, and corsets upset your stomach…" Corrin puckered her lips in a long-practiced pout, but the look faded once she noticed Flora's small smile.
Lord Silas was to visit today, so the young Princess' energy was understandable. She had such little company beyond her servants in the fortress—the poor thing was dying of loneliness. Many a night Jakob would rush into her quarters to ease her out of her night terrors, wailing like a babe stolen from her mother.
Just like a babe stolen from her mother.
None of this ever reached Xander's ears.
"And I'll never wear corsets—I'm going to become a warrior when I grow up, just like big brother, so I'll have armor on all the time!"
The thought of little Corrin wielding a blade against the Ice Tribe had Flora's fingers turning stiff. The brush clattered to the ground. She whispered an apology as she stooped to retrieve it.
"Milady, your morning tea is ready." Jakob announced as he entered, his face immediately brightening at the sight of her. Ruby eyes flickered to the ceramic pot; Flora gave up in her endeavor to tame her charge's mane.
Like a beast released from its cage, Corrin ran to Jakob with an eagerness only children possessed. He'd crafted the brew especially for her—a light, floral scent permeated the chamber as she was sat down.
The navy gown was lax and undecorated, as per the princess' wishes. It allowed the freedom of movement that she so desperately needed, the looseness around the hips and flared sleeves giving her the look of a schoolgirl. Flora snuck a hairband onto her head as she took her first sip of tea. Corrin frowned.
"Practice," Flora explained, "for a crown."
Corrin's grin was brighter than the sun.
Silas' arrival was announced not long after. Corrin took the worn steps three or four at a time as she rushed to him, laughter like the peal of bells. They shared a quick embrace before she was barraging him with questions—what did the wind feel like that day, how did the grass and trees and flowers smell, did the horses behave; Silas answered them all in stride, whispering his answers like they were secrets, like they were magic words. Corrin drank in each one of his responses, eyes wide and jaw slack. Jakob stalked not far behind them, regarding her almost reverently.
Flora busied herself with other things to ease the tightness in her chest.