[table][row][cell][img]https://i.imgur.com/ADdFNTM.png[/img][/cell][cell][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/240504/7ea89157aa7490b85c1faa2a61df7e74.png[/img][/cell][/row]
[row][cell][sub]Location: Eye of the Beholder[/sub][/cell][/row][/table]
Kira settled into the furthest, darkest corner of the tavern she could find, fingers curled loosely around the warmth of a coffee mug. She kept her eyes low, never quite meeting the gazes that occasionally wandered her way. Instead, she focused on a small imperfection in the worn wooden table, her attention drifting between the mundane chatter around her. On pure instinct, she sifted through for something worthwhile.

Briefly, a thought crossed her mind, one that had haunted her countless times since her transformation. How [i]valuable[/i] she might have been to the King, if he knew of what she was capable of now. Able to eavesdrop from across the room, to hear even the faintest heartbeat beneath layers of noise. If only she weren’t certain he’d have her killed on sight for it. 

Most of the surrounding conversation was the usual drivel. Guards grumbling about the cold. Drunken recollections of the previous night. Complaints about food, sleep, or the lack thereof. Speculation on how the Princess was faring, or where her attacker might have gone. 

All of it dull. Predictable. Utterly boring. 

But then, something… [i]different[/i] caught her attention. Her eyes flicked toward the source before she could stop herself.  

Unnatural, ashen skin. Two sets of vacant violet eyes. Horns protruding from her head. Batlike wings, pulled in tightly against her back. 

Blight-born, and one who had not a single shred of hope to blend in. 

Kira’s gaze slid to the company she had been locked in conversation with. 

One of them was the [s]guard[/s]—the [i]royal[/i] guard that she had crossed paths with yesterday, who did not seem to remember her the way she remembered him. And beside him, a woman—another high-ranking Lunarian, judging by her attire alone. Vaguely familiar. Kira squinted, trying to place where she had seen her before. In passing at the palace, perhaps. 

She watched them in silence for a few moments, curious how they would interact with someone so visibly [i]afflicted[/i] by the blight. To her utter surprise—not with pure disdain. Perhaps a year's time had changed the old guard's heart. 

As she processed this, someone new approached. Someone Kira didn’t recognize. 

A man. Nobility, no doubt. It was in the way he carried himself, in the fine clothing he wore and the subtle arrogance of inserting himself into another’s conversation. Kira leaned back slightly, uninterested in knowing him, but her focus sharpened as she caught onto their conversation. 

The blight-born woman—she wanted to be a [i]Sage[/i]?  

Kira’s lips pressed into a thin line as she focused her eyes back on the table, listening.

[color=DC561E][i]Why play with her?[/i][/color]

It was a foolish, naive dream. And cruel, too, for that noble man to be entertaining it. 

Blight-born had no dreams, no future beyond what they had been dealt. Their fate had been sealed the moment their veins ran dark. To think she could rise above it, be accepted, be [i]one of them[/i]... 

Kira had seen the way the Sages looked at her. Fear. Curiosity. Rarely warmth. Then again, she had never given them any to start.

She took a sip of her coffee, thoughts halting as her gaze drifted across the tavern and landed on a familiar shape. A man. Sitting alone, absently pushing food around his plate.

Kira set her mug down, tilting her head slightly, eyes narrowing.

[i]Him.[/i]

She recognized that tousled dark hair, the lazy way he sat. Could picture the blood staining her hands as she ripped the dagger out from his torso.

A slow, faint smile curled at the edge of her lips. Had he noticed her yet?  

She watched him for a beat longer, then the tavern door swung open.  

Ivor entered, his presence sucking the air from the room as he greeted the tavern with his usual boisterous energy, Sya trailing in beside him.  

Kira immediately looked away, her nerves prickling. Too many people. Too loud. It would soon be time to—  

She froze, a sensation running up her spine.   

She wasn’t just being watched. She was being seen.  

And, at the same time, approached.  

Ivor was making his way toward her, but it wasn’t him that had forced her attention. Across the tavern, the dark-haired man had finally noticed her.

Her gaze flicked back to him. His eyes were locked onto her, unwavering and bold, even as she held the stare for a few heartbeats.

[color=DC561E][i]Annoying.[/i][/color]

Slowly, deliberately, Kira smiled at him. Just enough to bare a sharp canine, running her tongue over the tip in a lazy taunt. [i]A dare.[/i]  

Something flickered in his hazel-eyed gaze.  

[color=DC561E][i]Good.[/i][/color]

Satisfied, she turned her attention to Ivor just as he reached her table, her expression softening.

When he greeted her, her expression shifted into something almost—[i]almost[/i]—pleasant. She could still feel Zephyros’ eyes on her, but she ignored him, keeping her focus on the giant before her, her mind catching on the word “friend” as he said it.  

She supposed, if she were to have one, Ivor would be the closest thing. Loud, larger than life, overbearing. But that vastness was almost comforting. His presence filled the space around him so entirely that, for a moment, there was no room left for anything else—no room for thoughts, for ghosts, for the weight of the past and present pressing against her ribs.

She recalled the quiet of the forest, the shared hunt, the moment of understanding between them. And for the first time in a long time, she smiled.  

A real one—small, but genuine.  

[color=DC561E]"Good morning,"[/color] she replied, voice steady, quiet. [color=DC561E]"The day has been…. fine, I suppose."[/color]

Gesturing to the empty seat across for her, she asked, [color=DC561E]“Would you like to sit?”[/color]

Her own invitation surprised her. 

She didn’t offer company often. Didn’t [i]want[/i] it often. But today—

[i]No[/i]. 

It had only been to shield herself from the ire of Zephyros and his royal guard [i]master[/i], if it were to come. A protective measure, nothing more. 

[color=DC561E]“How has your morning been?”[/color] she continued, keeping her gaze fixed on Ivor, despite catching Zephyros gesturing at her from the periphery.

[hr]
[Sub][b]Interactions:[/b] Ivor [@SkeankySnack]
[b]Mentions:[/b] Coswain & Persephone [@PrinceAlexus], Nesna [@enmuni], Nathaniel [@Echotech71][/sub]