Re: Outside a store, any store
Her smile was the ancestor of the modern politician's smile, a movement of lips, barely, but something that wasn't quite real. A dream that remained after waking, the world seen through rain drenched window. But, a monarch's life had to be like that, did it not? Always wary, always visible even when a moment was wanted far from the eyes of all those that watched.
Some people craved that type of attention and all the luxuries that life brought. But he never had and based on what the young woman in black was wearing, the style of it, it was old. She probably didn't have paparazzi chasing her from vacation spot to vacation spot, but a whole cabinet of other concerns that were just as valid. At least, that was his guess. A private possibility that would not cement itself until she'd proven it true or false.
She got another bob of his head when she explained, but the third person -- the body would one day become queen, the operator was another story. Yet, he didn't ask, that question held behind his teeth as he followed her into the store, his pace quickened until he caught up to her side and then measured to remain there, gaze moving over the racks and racks of clothing.
He took one look at the t-shirts of superheroes and down at the t-shirt he was already wearing. What was he going to do? Clothe the body in a t-shirt emblazoned with a round shield and star in the center of it? Or the one with the flashing blue light? Maybe that one might actually be of use, but he swerved past them and went to the plain shirts while she started looking at jeans. Maybe while she was looking at those he should pick up some boxers.
He leaned over to tug on her sleeve, down by the wrist where it couldn't be misconstrued as something too indecent and then pointed in the direction of a sign that declared 'Fruit of the Loom' so she knew where he was headed. A little nod of his head: okay?