[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’s lips lifted slightly as Sya approached—just a twitch at the corner, not quite a smile, but an attempt at changing from her typical stone-faced, dagger-eyed stare into something more pleasant. It was, for her, practically a warm welcome.

She listened in silence, trying to sort through Sya’s peculiar cadence—and new way of hissing. 

[color=DC561E][i]Egg box?[/i][/color] Her eyes narrowed, not in suspicion, but mild confusion. And who the hell was “Onion”? Did she mean Orion? Kira wasn’t about to ask. That sounded like a conversation that spiraled in directions she didn’t care to hear.

But when Sya mentioned a private parlour, her gaze flicked toward the staircase. Now [i]that[/i] piqued her interest. A quiet place to drink alone—away from the noise of a hundred heartbeats thrumming her ears. That sounded like the kind of luxury she could appreciate.

Her brow rose as Sya produced a small bottle and placed it in front of her. How did this woman always seem to have a wealth of alcohol on her? Her mind briefly flashed to the hot springs and Sya, tearfully clinging to a wine bottle. That had almost earned a smile out of her too.

[i]Almost.[/i]

Gingerly, she reached forward, inspecting the bottle closer. [color=DC561E]“Thanks,”[/color] she murmured, just loud enough for Sya to hear before she slithered away to tend to others. 

[color=9a45dc]“You seem to also be in the.. Eh, how they say, ‘in the spirit of the good’?”[/color]

Kira’s gaze flicked up. His grin was earnest and clumsy in a way that might’ve charmed someone less jaded. 
 
[color=9a45dc]“Eh..What Ivor means is, ‘Miss Kira you are looking well this day’.”[/color]

[i]Vitality born on borrowed blood.[/i]

Color had ghosted back beneath her skin. A glimmer of life caught in her eyes like it belonged there. Her limbs moved easier, breathing came smoother. She was stitched together by someone else’s pulse—with stolen warmth that wouldn’t last. 

She blinked once, then twice, trying to keep pace with Ivor’s words as he rummaged through his tunic pockets. But her attention wavered—drawn elsewhere. 

[i]The guard.[/i]

She could feel him.

A steady heartbeat, slow and calm. Close, but not inside the tavern. His emotions stirred faintly, brushing against the edge of her mind like a whisper through mist. That strange thread between them held strong. She didn’t even know his name. She could pull it from him—reach in and [i]take[/i] it—but she didn’t.

Guilt flared, small and sharp. She pushed it far, [i]far[/i] down.

Her eyes refocused on Ivor just as he beckoned her closer, like he was about to confess to murder instead of sample bootleg liquor. She leaned in anyway—barely. Just enough to humor him.

One brow lifted as he uncorked the bottle, and she watched, unmoving. Her expression didn’t change as his whole face morphed from eager mischief to immediate horror. It didn’t even twitch when he reared back and unleashed a sneeze so thunderous it rattled the cutlery.

The silence that followed was brief but dense. She blinked once. Slowly. Staring at him. 

[color=DC561E]“...Bless you,”[/color] she said, completely flat.

As Ivor braved his first sip, her hand drifted toward her own bottle—Sya’s [i]gift[/i]. She turned it slowly in her fingers, eyeing it like it might explode. Or bite her.

[color=9a45dc]“You would have like Aleksi I think, you and him, very much the same, very calm, very…”[/color]

Kira looked up, a flicker of amusement crossing her expression as she caught his face trying to mirror her usual indifference. The sight was so unexpected, she [i]actually[/i] smiled—a rare, genuine smile. It tugged at the edges of her lips, soft and unguarded for a vulnerable, fleeting moment. 

In that moment, she wondered about Aleksi and who he had been to Ivor. But the thought felt too personal, too intimate to entertain. Asking about someone else’s past, digging into their life—it felt wrong. She didn’t have the right to pry. Not anymore.

[color=9a45dc]“If it is not minded, Ivor is wondering, before coming here, what did Miss Kira call home?”[/color]

Something twisted painfully in her chest, and the small smile vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. Ice replaced the warmth that had dared to surface. 

What [i]did[/i] she call home? 

Cold, unfeeling stone walls. The sting of snow and gravel under her palms. The sharp clash of blades close enough to taste. The suffocating darkness beneath the palace, where light couldn’t reach. Blood splattered on rough stone floors. And always—[i]always[/i]—the cold, insistent whisper of another threading through her mind. 

Her eyes refocused on Ivor, her expression solidified into something harder once more. She kept her voice even, low. [color=DC561E]“I lived in the Capital.”[/color]

It wasn’t a lie. Just the closest truth she could offer him. A sliver of honesty, enough to answer without saying too much. 

Despite the tightness in her chest, Kira reached deep within herself, and slipped into the practiced mask that had been drilled into her. The edges of her mouth twitched upward, just enough to make her expression more pleasant, more approachable.

[color=DC561E]“Tell me about Aleksi.”[/color]

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[Sub][b]Interactions:[/b] Ivor [@SkeankySnack]
[b]Mentions:[/b] Sya [@PrinceAlexus][/sub]