royal baggage

Rose probably should have known better than to agree when Alisha asked her to come along to the peace treaty negotiations at Ladylake, but since they'd become Shepherd-and-Squire—and, more than that, friends—Rose figured she could at least do the princess the favor of being an escort. It's only now, though, that Rose realizes that she was under the wrong impression this whole time, because when she takes a seat on a floor tile outside the council room and bids the other girl good luck with her little meeting, Alisha furrows her brow in confusion.

"What do you mean? You'll be joining us too, won't you, Rose?"

…Ah. Should have known it wouldn't be so easy.

"I'll…pass, thanks." Sure, Rose is plenty familiar with the current political scene—you can't very well run an assassins' guild without detailed and up-to-date intel—but she's not a politician. Negotiations and royal meetings and putting together peace treaties are Alisha's thing; Rose's thing is stabbing daggers into anything or anyone that requires it.

But Alisha shakes her head, insistent. "You're the Shepherd, Rose. Even if you're not Sorey, you're still a key figure in uniting our two nations."

Rose bites her lip. She knows that, of course. She knew exactly what she was signing up for when she made the pact with Lailah: "the Shepherd must be a symbol of hope whose guidance shall lead the people" and all that mumbo-jumbo. But Rose thinks that this particular Shepherd should inspire the people from afar, where they won't get close enough to realize that she isn't the type of person who beams hope from her smile. That she isn't…well, Sorey.

Alisha was right about that, at least.

"Believe me," Rose scoffs. "You don't need some two-bit Shepherd messing up the mood for all of you. Just get in there and do your thing, alright?"

Alisha, oddly enough, almost looks as if she's been slapped. "Rose, don't say that. You should be there. Your presence would mean a lot to the attendees."

Rose rolls her eyes, placing her hands behind her head and leaning back against the wall. "Alisha, this really isn't the time for more of your sentimental crap," she says, injecting acid into her tone in hopes it will drive her away quicker. "You're gonna be late for your meeting, go on, chop chop."

Alisha blinks twice before scowling and crossing her arms over her chest in clear disappointment. "Rose, get off of your fat ass and come with me."

Rose nearly cringes—yikes, hearing that type of slang out of the royal princess's mouth is still going to take some getting used to (but admittedly, at least Alisha's using the slang correctly this time). Though, normal girl does have an idea there.

"Oh, I can't!" Rose cries out with sudden mocking melodrama. "My butt, it's too heavy! I can't get up!" She makes a show of trying to push herself up, pretending to strain her arms against the floor before finally feign-swooning, hand over her face in overexaggerated anguish. "Oh, the humanity!"

"That's not funny," Alisha growls, now very visibly angry, and when Rose doesn't deign to respond to her, the princess suddenly bends down to jab her finger into Rose's chest. "Rose!" Alisha pokes her again, and again and again, until Rose, refusing to budge, blocks her next blow and starts prodding at Alisha in turn.

The poke war lasts about a minute before Alisha finally retreats; her face is flushed with irritation, but she's evidently not willing to escalate this further. At least, not when they're right outside the council room.

Rose smirks. "Just give it up, Alisha. If you want me to go in there, you'll have to friggin' carry me."

Alisha goes silent then, her lip pursed in what looks like contemplation, and for a moment there, Rose is sure that she's won—

"Fine then."

…Wait, what?

Rose doesn't have the chance to react before Alisha is on her, one hand hooking under her knees and another grasping at her shoulders, both lifting her up off the floor so that Rose is being carried bridal style in Alisha's arms. For a while there, Rose can't do anything more than gape up at the other in surprise, because goddammit, it was a joke, she hadn't at all expected Alisha to actually do it—

"H-hey! Put me down!" Rose yelps. Alisha doesn't seem to pay her any mind, so Rose tries flailing her arms in an attempt to escape, but when that nearly sends her falling backwards onto her head, her arms instinctively cling around Alisha's neck instead. Alisha, meanwhile, maintains a firm grip, clutching Rose's body tight to her chest, and Rose can't help but marvel at how effortlessly the other seems to be handling her weight. She's always known that Alisha was strong, but this is something else—especially when Alisha then kicks open the council room doors with Rose still in her arms.

Several steps later, though, Rose is unceremoniously plopped ass-first into the nearest empty chair. Rubbing at her now sore behind, Rose glares daggers at Alisha, but the princess merely arches a high and mighty brow before turning sharply on her heel, taking her rightful position at the front of the room.

"Now that the Shepherd has arrived," Alisha addresses the attendees, perfectly straight-faced, as if she didn't just drag said Shepherd here kicking and screaming, "let us begin this meeting forthwith."

Rose, utterly defeated, can only comply.