[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/1U4bQ50.png[/img][/center][hr][sub][color=lemonchiffon]Location:[/color] The Sun Temple[/sub][hr][hr]
Reality slammed back into Tia at the sound of the Prince’s voice. Her eyes widened. She was being disrespectful. She almost fell over herself snapping into a low bow. 

[color=lemonchiffon]“Your Highness.”[/color] Her broken rasp, soft though it was, seemed to echo in time with the crackling flame. Her hands tightened around the twins’.

He… wanted to speak with her?

Her mind spun with the possibilities — few of them good. The happy bubble she’d been encased within at the arrival of Ranni and Dyna burst. Tia could practically see the sparkling remains dissipating in the air. 

Still bowing, she looked up to see him framed between the strands of her pale hair. The scarf around her neck suddenly seemed too warm. She straightened from her bow, giving a nervous nod of her head. She glanced at the two sisters again. Dyna had snapped into familiar protocol, stiff and unyielding — and brittle. Ranni, meanwhile… her protégé looked like she was afraid she might get strung up and beaten for merely daring to enter the temple. Tia’s heart squeezed tight at the sight of the nervous sisters. 

She couldn’t just be anxious Tia anymore — she had to be a role model again. 

She relaxed her grip on their hands, so it was secure rather than desperate. She gave them another gentle squeeze. Waiting until they both looked to her, Tia smiled gently. Even as her heart seemed to hammer in her chest.

Finally releasing them, Tia eased the temple door closed. Then she lifted a hand towards the nearest pews, directing them to sit. With one last look — that she hoped was more reassuring than she felt — Tia made her way towards the Prince. 

She gave another small bow of her head as she passed him and started leading the way down the hall he’d indicated. 

Was… was she even supposed to be in front? He was the Prince. Was anyone supposed to walk before him? But [i]she[/i] lived here, didn’t she need to lead him to the correct room? He’d [i]had the temple built[/i], why wouldn’t he know the correct path to the room? It wasn’t exactly a laberynth, there were two bedrooms, a private wash, and a linen closet back here, why wouldn’t he be expected to know —

Did he know about the letters? Was that why he wanted to speak? Tia hadn’t even [i]sent[/i] the first one, it was still weighing down her inner robe pocket like an unlit firework, and she’d [i]already been discovered!?[/i] Or the Queen was displeased that she’d taken so long, and [i]she’d[/i] written to her son to reprimand Tia. What if it wasn’t about the letters at all? There’d been a feast this morning. Was he upset she hadn’t come? As a representative of the church, it was her responsibility to appear at official events, and if the Prince saw her failure to attend as an insult — especially since this was the second event in a row that she’d missed, and the last one had been to [i]announce the death of the Lunarian Queen[/i] What if — oh burning sun above, it was because she’d [i]touched[/i] him the last time. He was here to reprimand her and demand an apology for having the [i]audacity[/i] to [i]touch his face[/i] in a fit of temporary insanity. Emotionality? She’d been crying. She’d been exhausted. He’d looked [i]so sad[/i]. Was he sad now? Angry? His face had given nothing away, and certainly it was [i]possible[/i] he wasn’t upset with her, but —

Tia had spent the entirety of the short walk down the hallway spiraling. She blinked, realizing she stood at the far end of her own bed chamber. Her cheeks heated. Was it clean enough? The bed was made, at least. The small stack of papers she’d written her dreams on were carefully hidden away within the pages of a book in the bottom of her drawer seemed to glow in her mind — like their location would be obvious to the Prince. Turning, she saw the Prince on the other side of the room — his body between her and the door. 

Tia gave a polite smile, trying to hide her nervousness. She gave another small bow. It stuttered though when she realized she’d left her notebook outside in the snow. She had more paper, of course — but the reminder of her own carelessness, of the scene she’d made in front of Orion, only added to her anxiety. The idea of having to write for the Prince, her deficiencies on full display, especially when this meeting seemed of a more serious nature, made her want to bury herself in the snow. 

She swallowed, trying to focus on the muscles in her throat. They tightened with her heightened nerves. 

[color=lemonchiffon]“How may I serve the crown?”[/color] It was almost too many words at once. Her breath caught painfully against her ruined throat, her voice breaking on the last word. 
[hr]
[sub][color=lemonchiffon]Interaction:[/color] Flynn Astaros [@The Muse], Ranni and Dyna Soleil [@Queen Arya][/sub]