( weeks, yes, generally as dictated by visiting all the grand houses, to receive their well wishes, and explore their planets. weeks at the minimum, really, though there's no knowing if alina would actually like the pomp and circumstance of it. for paul, it's less about enjoying, and more about the way things have always been — surrounded by the wastefulness of ceremony, a particular thorn in his father's side.
in any case, as ever, alina does actually have the better idea. paul brightens. )
I'm sure there will be a misplaced hour or two. ( he steals quick, tactical kiss ) Or three. ( and kisses her again, longing and lingering, flattening his hand on kettlewing's wide body to make sure he doesn't slip. ) We can make time for it all. Alina's birthday week, I say. And — as my wife, you'll have to prove your ability to ride.
( yes, he'll let her win. though, on that thought — )
( her lips stumble, uncharacteristically clumsy. she hasn't forgotten how to love paul — it's as natural a movement as drawing breath into her lungs, as placing one foot in front of the other — but there's a surprise to it, all the same, to find that he still wants to kiss here as she is. thorns and teeth and the jagged edge of a broken glass, compared to the soft delicateness of his mouth.
it leaves her fumble toward him, a sunflower stretched toward the sky, even as he speaks. kettlewing gives a predictable squawk when she has to right herself and resettle, annoyed by all of the jostling movement on the cradle of her hip. )
I — ( a shamed flush flowers across one cheek, then vines to the other, a fertile shade of pink. alina's eyebrows knit together, girlishly embarrassed. it doesn't abate, for good reason — paul was likely born with a mare under him, the well-bred duke — it's only natural to ask the peasant girl if she's ever done more to travel than march around in first army muck. ) A few times. My former teacher at the Little Palace liked to ride. It might've been the only thing he liked.
( aside from power. something shrivels to ash in alina's mouth, trailing off. teacher sounds too illustrious, for all that aleksander had taught her all the wrong lessons. alina clears her throat. )
Unless this an excuse because you want me to hold onto you. Then I've definitely never ridden a day in my life before.
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in any case, as ever, alina does actually have the better idea. paul brightens. )
I'm sure there will be a misplaced hour or two. ( he steals quick, tactical kiss ) Or three. ( and kisses her again, longing and lingering, flattening his hand on kettlewing's wide body to make sure he doesn't slip. ) We can make time for it all. Alina's birthday week, I say. And — as my wife, you'll have to prove your ability to ride.
( yes, he'll let her win. though, on that thought — )
Actually, have you ridden a horse before?
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it leaves her fumble toward him, a sunflower stretched toward the sky, even as he speaks. kettlewing gives a predictable squawk when she has to right herself and resettle, annoyed by all of the jostling movement on the cradle of her hip. )
I — ( a shamed flush flowers across one cheek, then vines to the other, a fertile shade of pink. alina's eyebrows knit together, girlishly embarrassed. it doesn't abate, for good reason — paul was likely born with a mare under him, the well-bred duke — it's only natural to ask the peasant girl if she's ever done more to travel than march around in first army muck. ) A few times. My former teacher at the Little Palace liked to ride. It might've been the only thing he liked.
( aside from power. something shrivels to ash in alina's mouth, trailing off. teacher sounds too illustrious, for all that aleksander had taught her all the wrong lessons. alina clears her throat. )
Unless this an excuse because you want me to hold onto you. Then I've definitely never ridden a day in my life before.