pyr min solemnly swears he is up to no good (twinclaws) wrote in emillion, |
She remembered the boy from months ago - he had stopped by to deliver something to Audrey. Except that he looked different. More muscular. And he had been eyeing Juliette in a manner that she was sure was supposed to be discrete. Genevieve smiled and excused herself from the gaggle of nobility that had flocked about her as soon as she had left Reinholdt’s side. Now, she thought, amused, what was his name? “Sky, correct?” she said as soon as she reached him. Pyr turned at the sound of the voice and found the hostess herself standing beside him, and promptly experienced a cacophony of mixed emotions ranging from admiration to terror, all of these underlined by a thread of amazement that the flawless noble lady in front of him was the very same who had advised him on the most efficient delivery routes for stinkbombs. He emerged from this internal chaos with the cool head and courage reserved for life or death emergencies and a vague, "Um, actually, I'm Pyr, Sky's brother. He's off somewhere in the crowd. He was wearing some sort of animal hat the last time I saw him." He raised his hand to point in the direction Sky might have gone but, having no clue which direction that might be, ended up gesturing vaguely toward the food tables in an educated guess. Ah, she thought. Twins. It would explain the vast difference in build, though it had been months since she had last seen Sky; a great deal of things could change in that amount of time. “My apologies, Pyr,” she said, watching in amusement as he tried to point her in the direction of his errant brother. “Are you, by chance, a friend of Juliette’s?” Either he had been admiring her from afar, or they knew each other and he was choosing to admire from a distance. Both options were, of course, entirely adequate. If he did not know her, then it was Genevieve’s duty as hostess to introduce them. Juliette needed more interactions with those closer to her age, and if the look this boy had given her was any indication, he was more likely to treat her ward with respect. If not, well. There were ways to ensure that he did. Pyr wondered at the strangeness of the question — hadn't she invited him? — but did not comment on it; instead, he answered at once, "Yes, I'm a squire in the Fighters' Guild, I used to be in a lot of classes with Juliette before she passed her exam." As he spoke, his conversation with Peony came to mind. The Countess had to have noticed something. Was that why she was asking? He tried not to panic, and latched on to the first subject of conversation he could think of, which turned out to be Peony. "I wrote to you once. To your column. I'm Mage Defender. We managed to get those stink bombs in through the chimney after all." |