“That way,” Ari said, picking a direction at random. her thoughts ran along the same lines -- there was likely something to see whichever way they went. “I don’t really know -- I’ve had multiple people raving to me about ice sculptures, so I thought I couldn’t very well go home without seeing them, but I imagine we’ll encounter some whichever way we go.”
She fell silent for a few moments as they walked, and indeed, her supposition appeared to have been correct. The ice sculptures, glimmering faintly with the light of the lanterns, lined the path. Characters from tale and story, fanciful animals -- truly works of art. Ari couldn’t help but be impressed, though her mind was a bit distracted now by the strange mood Aspel appeared to be harboring.
They had been walking a few minutes when she finally spoke again, softly so as not to be heard by any other strollers. “Would you like to tell me what’s on your mind?” And if the answer was no, well, she would set about ignoring it and providing distraction. It was one of her greatest skills, after all.
With a direction offered it was easy to agree, an odd comfort of sorts to follow someone else’s commands than having to think for her own yet again. “Have you?” The question was obviously something Aspel was interested in hearing about - she wouldn’t have asked otherwise - but it sounded absent, like the smith was really only half in the reality that currently presented itself before them. The cold had begun to settle into her body, but the emotional turmoil, and anxiety that still ripped through her mind, distracted Aspel just enough that the temperature still wasn’t even noticed, even if goosebumps had started to rise on her arms.
The sculptures were beautiful, masterfully crafted pieces that would easily be remembered by those who witnessed them for years to come. Certainly, the king would likely have a hard time topping this fest for the eyes in the years to come. Perhaps, if only Aspel wasn’t so distracted by each laugh that sounded as if it might be vaguely familiar, by each accented voice that threatened to disrupt the life she’d made for her if she let it, she may have appreciated them more.
Only when Ari’s voice crept in - sweet, and low - did the smith’s attention even moderately hone in on one thing alone. “Knights from Kerwon,”came the almost breathlessly low whisper, and with the sentence, her muscles tensed, almost seeming to expecting some sort of blow to be leveled against her even from speaking just the words she had. Her family never had been that kind.
“Ah.” Those three words said a great deal, and knowing what she did of Aspel’s history, Ari imagined she could puzzle out the rest. She thought of saying, If my family suddenly appeared here, I might run, too, but of course it wasn’t at all the same. “Well,” she said instead, “it seems to be all but deserted out here right now. We can stay out as long as you can bear.” Her hand ran up Aspel’s arm, which was chilled to the touch, as if to transfer some warmth.
She stopped a moment to admire a sculpture shaped into cresting waves tossing a galleon, so lifelike that she nearly felt the churn of nausea that came upon her anytime she was foolish enough to step upon any vessel that floated. “I wonder what this is like in the summer,” she mused, offering a conversational path to distraction, if Aspel was willing to take it. “I doubt I’ll ever see it, so I suppose I will simply have to imagine.”