He was a kaleidoscope of colors. Every time he turned his head or raised his hand, a rainbow flash of jewelry assaulted her vision. The golden threads weaved into his vest, the purest white of his shirts contrasting the dark leather of his trousers. The richness of his expressions were even more colorful. That cocky smirk seemed to enrage her and enchant her every time it settled on his face.
His appearance created such a dichotomy of feelings within her. The trousers, especially. She loved to find herself behind him on their journey, letting him lead them forward into the fray. She hated to admit that she watched the way his trousers gripped his legs and his rear.
She loved the wicked grins, the dastardly winks, the casual nods of his head. She hated when he frowned. She knew that she herself was guilty of being eternally serious, but their situation warranted that sort of behavior. It would be unbefitting of a Queen to tease and joke. It was why she loved that he did so.
He stood beside her now, and she let her eyes wander to peek at him. His arms were crossed, and he stared out at the water of the Naldoan Sea. The only light was a dim lantern hung on the balcony, and the stars in the sky above them. His face was cast in shadow, but after so many weeks of being around him, she was able to fill in the blanks well enough.
She thinks back on the day, remembering the look of disappointment and sadness as his father faded away. His handsome features were desperately trying to mask his grief. She was guilty of hiding pain like that herself, so it was immediately recognizable to her. She decides to breach the silence, and while he doesn't face her, she can just tell by the way he stands that he is paying full attention. "I am sorry about your father…"
She can see him tense at her words, shifting his weight from foot to foot and clutching his arms tighter to his chest. "Don't. Let's not talk about that right now." He shakes his head, and she sees the earrings jangle about.
She knows he is frowning. "I'm sorry." She longs for more light so she can see his face fully, but there is none.
He accepts her apology with a casual wave of his hand, and he shifts his weight again, stepping a bit closer to her. Or maybe she's imagining it.
He's seen a lot of beautiful women. Hell, his partner was probably the most striking one he'd ever laid eyes upon.
He wondered if he thought her beautiful. Pretty face, a body with soft curves and flawless skin. From a purely objective standpoint, it was easy to acknowledge that her Highness was a lovely young woman. But to acknowledge his own feelings on her appearance would be something altogether different.
The Viera had caught him staring at their royal companion on numerous occasions. He had always shrugged it off, hoping his flirtatious reputation would ease her concerns about his wandering gaze. It was hard not to look at her, he argued. It wasn't every day you traveled in the company of a Princess.
He stood close to her, probably closer than he should have been. He tried to ignore the temptation to look at her, to see how she looked in the starlight. She tried to offer sympathy, and they entered an awkward silence. He finally ventures a look at her and is undone.
She is beautiful, he admits to himself. Her eyes are darkened, and her entire image is softened as his eyes try desperately to adjust to the faint lantern light. It glows a soft orange just beside her, painting shadows on her skin.
He is openly gaping at this moment as she turns to face him. Her features offer no scolding at his stares, but her eyes look down and away from his face. She seems to be staring at his feet. He takes his eyes away from her face and fixates on her collar.
She smiles at their attempts to dodge one another's eyes, and moves their conversation away from the dreaded subject of the day's losses. "If we're…what I mean to say is… When this is over, I just want you to know you are welcome to visit Rabanastre at any time."
He sees an opportunity, the earnestness in her voice almost preventing him from teasing. "Just me, Princess?" he goads her, and despite the near absence of illumination, he can tell that her face is reddening.
The sight of her struggling for words entices him. She is normally so composed; it is wonderful to see her think on her feet. "Yes. I mean no, of course not. I mean, you and Fran are both welcome."
As they stand facing one another on the balcony, he wonders where this will lead. He knows she probably only wanted to thank him for helping her, but the peaceful night and the knowledge of tomorrow's events seem to keep their feet glued in place.