[ sylvain still sounds rather cheerful despite the threat though, as they step out into the warm night air of an enbarr evening. he's just never been able to get used to this - the heat of the south was almost overwhelming to someone from faerghus, a land that was more often than not covered in a blanket of freezing snow. it had been just as unbearable when they'd taken the capital as it was now, but dorothea? she looks perfectly in her element, in the summer adrestian fashion. he, however, was going to have to try not to sweat straight through the suit he was wearing, and likely not just because of the heat. ]
So, how've you been? It looks like your operatic career is as successful as ever, judging by the faces of your adoring fans.
[ innocuous smalltalk, perhaps. it's not like he hadn't wondered how she was doing down in enbarr as his mind had drifted to thoughts of her, thoughts of them back at the king's party in faerghus. more than he'd like, and more often than any other dalliance had snuck into his mind, proving this entire situation to be rather foreign to him. sylvain had certainly never ridden across a continent for any other individual, that's for sure.
the streets are humming with activity as the city settles into a night market atmosphere, merchants hawking their goods from either side of them as they worked their way through the throng of people lining the street. every now and then, someone stares at them or whispers behind their hands to their companion, most certainly talking about them - and don't think sylvain doesn't notice the effects of dorothea's fame in these parts. it almost makes him firm his grip, until he wonders - just why is he jealous right now? ]
I would've ridden down sooner to fulfill the 'promise', but it's been difficult to get away; the king's finding fun in keeping me busy. I feel he thinks he's keeping me out of trouble, more like.
no subject
Ugh, point taken, point taken. I'll refrain.
[ sylvain still sounds rather cheerful despite the threat though, as they step out into the warm night air of an enbarr evening. he's just never been able to get used to this - the heat of the south was almost overwhelming to someone from faerghus, a land that was more often than not covered in a blanket of freezing snow. it had been just as unbearable when they'd taken the capital as it was now, but dorothea? she looks perfectly in her element, in the summer adrestian fashion. he, however, was going to have to try not to sweat straight through the suit he was wearing, and likely not just because of the heat. ]
So, how've you been? It looks like your operatic career is as successful as ever, judging by the faces of your adoring fans.
[ innocuous smalltalk, perhaps. it's not like he hadn't wondered how she was doing down in enbarr as his mind had drifted to thoughts of her, thoughts of them back at the king's party in faerghus. more than he'd like, and more often than any other dalliance had snuck into his mind, proving this entire situation to be rather foreign to him. sylvain had certainly never ridden across a continent for any other individual, that's for sure.
the streets are humming with activity as the city settles into a night market atmosphere, merchants hawking their goods from either side of them as they worked their way through the throng of people lining the street. every now and then, someone stares at them or whispers behind their hands to their companion, most certainly talking about them - and don't think sylvain doesn't notice the effects of dorothea's fame in these parts. it almost makes him firm his grip, until he wonders - just why is he jealous right now? ]
I would've ridden down sooner to fulfill the 'promise', but it's been difficult to get away; the king's finding fun in keeping me busy. I feel he thinks he's keeping me out of trouble, more like.