2


With the slightest nod, Prince Raj whirls on his heel and takes his leave. No doubt to turn his displeasure back on his twin siblings, if they weren't smart enough to disappear when he wasn't looking. Ah, but, then again, perhaps young Princess Rona still lurked nearby. Wanting to rub her dear elder brother's incompetence in just a bit more. She certainly seemed the sort, and His Highness certainly deserved it.

Obi swallowed a wicked grin at the thought.

Still, an apology for the...results of their little detour into the castle underworks?

That was certainly unexpected. But not unwelcome. He found himself slightly less irritated about the sorry state of his boots.

Now then.

He surveys the lush flora of the gardens, quickly spying the familiar bounce of apple red hair. Just in time to see his ward dip behind an enormous fern.
Fawning over some rare plant, no doubt…

Obi ambles along the winding path, muggy heat of the greenhouse crowding out the clammy chill of the tunnels. He didn't mind the cold and the dark, not really. But the little Miss preferred warmth and sunlight—and wherever she wandered, he would follow.

Shirayuki wasn't crouched along the path, examining strange flowers. Nor was she strolling ahead, farther up the meticulously groomed path.
Instead, he finds her resting on an exquisite carved bench, elbows propped on her knees, in a shaded little nook hidden by overhanging vine and fern.
Fan-shaped fronds conceal her from the rest of the world.

He pauses.
No, resting was not the right word for it.

"Miss?"

Her back straightens somewhat, at the sound of his voice. And he can see that she's holding it again—the pocket watch Master gave her the morning they left Wistal. The watch that she'd carried round her neck like a protective amulet ever since. Not that the sight was overly surprising, he's seen it so many times already in the past few days, but not—not like this.

Not grasping at it until her fingers turned white. Not clutching like her very life depended on it.

"Careful, Miss. If you press too tight, it'll break." He means to lighten the mood, to tease her, but –

"I'm the one being pressed," she replies, low. Perhaps she hadn't meant him to hear. But—there's an odd lilt to her voice, a sort of barely concealed something, and

And his hackles spring up as he spins to face a servant. The young woman leaps back, but quickly sculpts her startled expression into a polite smile as he erases the tension from his own face.

"S-Sir Obi. You both must be, weary after your, ordeal. His Highness wishes to extend an invitation for tea and light refreshments?"
The servant speaks in soft tones, yet it is loud enough for Miss, who catches invitation and her breath.

"My apologies," Obi regretfully bows his head, "but Milady wishes a moment to rest before dinner. And I'm afraid I really must do something about the state of my boots, lest I track muck all over the carpets."

"Ah—shall I have something sent up to your rooms, then?"

"If you would, thank you."

The servant curtsies and practically flees back along the manicured path. He watches her go with a wince—he did not mean to frighten the staff.

"She's gone, Miss." Obi tilts his head, to glance over his shoulder.

Shirayuki doesn't respond.

"...Shall I keep watch, then?"

He's not sure if she inclined her head at that, or merely slumped farther forward. In the end, both outcomes were the same—the trip through the tunnels troubled her far more than she let on.
Perhaps she'd talk about it later. Perhaps not. He squared his shoulders and eased into a watchful stance.

For now, he'll let her linger in the safety and comfort of shadows.