#//takes place a little further into their friendship i figure.

[aurheatum]

💋 a kiss between furrowed brows to try and comfort 

"Dear lady Rhea, what can it be that troubles you so?"

Sigurd always finds an occasion to walk into the archbishop's audience hall - perhaps for tea, or to discuss pilgrims or monastery events, or even just to watch the sun rise or set. He is always happy to provide his companionship to her, for words and heart are the least he can offer for all that she has done for him.

Sigurd does not bother to look at whatever missives Rhea is glowering at, simply scoops her hands into his to sweep her to her feet, pressing a swift kiss to the furrow in her brow.

"My lady, there are far finer things to explore this day. Shall we take a walk to clear your mind?"

The music Rhea makes is only ever in tones mimicking that of her Mother’s; even the oldest of the Seiros faith’s hymns are merely faded notes playing in Rhea’s mind kept alive only by visiting and revisiting those scants memories.

How is it then that Sir Sigurd causes her to produce such lyrical laughter? As weary as her office so often makes her seeing the crinkle of his smile, the youthful cheer there unmistakable as that which once tried to slip away from the crusader, miraculously makes her too feel younger and freer.

“You are as ever quite wise, Lord Chalphy,” she teases, though there is no lie in her statement playful though it is. “I fear I may burn a hole into these pages if I look at them any longer, and then I truly will be in dire straits. It is funny – the more I look at some of these sentences, the less I feel they are words that mean anything at all; so, yes, I would take you up on this walk, and please let us speak of things that make sense in both heart and mind for once.”