Weight of the Crown | Shifting Sands

Laughing faintly, Rosleigh's smile grew wider, "I'd have said before it sounded crazy... But after tonight? I've never been so exhilarated. It's scary... But I see the appeal."

Releasing his hand, she bit the edge of her lip, before remembering it would drive her mother to tears, "H...how else are you feeling? Not... Maybe not physically, as much as...?"

Trailing off, her cheeks reddened.
 
Hama's eyebrows raised high as she made mention of their former talk, and he rubbed his mouth in thought, eyes downcast. He didn't know how to answer that, if he was honest. He was not a man used to being in commune with his emotions, far preferring hard facts, regimented tests, surefire prescriptions. He had no idea how to navigate these new feelings, or even how to recognize them.

They were interrupted by Etzla walking out with three bowls on a platter, a strange confection in each. It looked to be corn swimming in milk with something else in the mix, the bowls surprisingly chill to the touch.

"I hope you didn't wait too long," Etzla professed, sitting with his bowl and digging in, before noticing his younger brother's displeased stare.

"Was I... interrupting something?"

"Yes, actually."

Etzla put his hands up, shoving a few more spoonfuls in his mouth, before taking his bowl and bustling back to the kitchen. With that, he left the two alone, and Hama sighed.

"Princess... there is nothing more that I want than to be at your side, serving you well and ensuring your health and happiness. But... this... it is all new to me, and I am... I am struggling. We have stories of passion, of romance, but I have never..." He made a weighing motion with his hands, his expression sheepish. "You are... the first."
 
Rosleigh was a patient girl, well-mannered and delicate... But the amount of momentary ire she felt towards Etzla and his interruption was great for one so young and fragile. It was short-lived, however, and he excused himself swiftly enough that she forgave him almost as fast.

And then Hama continued, and her eyes widened, before they filled with a misty dampness. She'd never imagined feeling the way she did about Hama... Not in her condition, not with someone she'd known for only a little while. Yet it was like the fairy stories she had read growing up... And hearing him conform to the same thoughts was more than she could ask.

"I... I didn't quite expect... I only meant because of the spy... Your grandfather. But..." Smiling, she shook her head, "But I'm glad you told me. I had rather hoped earlier that you might feel something but you're a bit hard to read." Grinning, she shrugged, "For all your culture makes you polite and noble and chivalrous... You make a girl guess quite a bit. It's an ordeal, particularly when you love someone..."
 
Hama's heart was in his throat, his eyes widening slowly as he realized he had mistaken Ros' question. Quite boldly he had revealed his position, his vulnerabilities, and he awaited her response as he stirred his dessert nervously. He peered through long lashes up at her with resignation, only to perk up entirely at the mention of love.

"I....I apologize, if I have been obtuse, but we Azawi..." Here he chuckled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Obtuse and obfuscating is our modus operandi. We try so hard to hide how we feel..."

He rubbed his mouth and looked at her, eyes misty. Did he love her? If she were to die, to suddenly fall ill, he would be devastated, yes, but was this love, like in the tales?

"I have come to cherish you. Love you, perhaps. But in doing so, I...I could not serve you. It is against our oaths, for we would care so much for our patient that our judgment is clouded, unreliable, foggy," Hama admitted in a tumble, shaking his head and scrunching his eyes shut. He stopped and smiled a bit.

"But love you I do."
 
Smiling delicately, almost the tiniest bit slyly, Rosleigh shrugged, "Then you shall simply have to marry me, Hama. However we manage it... Through your father or mine... Or a stranger in the desert... Or, oh, I don't know, a mouse in a hole. Because there is no way that I can die, now, and you'd take an oath to protect me, if you've my hand..."

It was bold. She knew that it was bold... More than anything she'd ever suggested, and she wasn't entirely sure whether she was even fully serious or not, but in her heart it felt like the right thing to say, "You wouldn't be my doctor, no... But surely there's no oath in caring most ardently for your..."

Biting the inside of her cheek, she smiled, "My dear Hama... You've made a schemer of me. But I would be nothing less for you... And whatever more you asked."
 
Hama felt panic for a moment, coupled with exhilaration. He had been in denial for a long while, hoping that his feelings and hers would not coincide while simultaneously holding out that perhaps they might. Now, they were well and truly confirming it, and...

Oh, he was getting dizzy.

He took hold of the table and leaned against, taking a long and slow breath.

"I....I fully and truly appreciate your words, I do. But I think this is what we call the vapors," Hama said as he slowly started to keel to the side, comically calm despite the fact he was actively in the middle of fainting.
 
Moving, Rosleigh knelt by his chair and while concern etched in her eyes, her expression was too amused to be truly worried.

"Oh, my dear, sweet Hama... We've made a mess of our roles here, haven't we? Breath in through your nose, nice and slowly, now... Easy... Focus on my voice. If you faint on me, I'll have to fret you're much worse of than a broken rib. And I'm not exactly versed in any sort of... Doctoring."
 
"No, and I can't expect you to doctor me, either," Hama said as he leaned his head down and tried to calm himself. He waved his hands towards his face, as if that would better supply the air he so desperately needed. He could hardly believe that such huge leaps had been made in a single night. It left him both exhilarated and terrified in equal measure - though terror was definitely beginning to win out.

He did what Ros suggested instead, listening to her voice. She had a sweet, fluting soprano, a wonderfully light voice. Coupled with her rounded Lorenite pronunciation, it served to be soothing, and he managed to get a hold of himself.

"I must look a fool to you," he joked. "A man who can take a kick to the ribs, but confronted with a woman -- a total mess."
 
Laughing softly, Rosleigh nodded, "It's not entirely what one anticipates, no. But if it's any relief to your ego, I could certainly never handle a kick to my ribs with such effortless grace."

Rising a little, she returned to her chair, her hand still resting delicately on his arm, "I think, perhaps, my love... We've thrown a bit too much into one day. We're likely to find tomorrow quite dull, indeed."
 
"I would certainly hope," Hama pleaded. He was not a man who enjoyed suddenly unexpected things. He was a creature of habit, and to have things rudely interrupt those habits caused him no small amount of anxiety. Yet, looking up at Ros, he felt his fears still. She was right - not much more could happen now.

"It is quite late. Are you tired? And...um, are you going to eat that?" Hama asked, pointing to her bowl. His already was nearly empty, save for a few pieces of corn. It was no secret this was a favorite food of his.
 
Looking to the dish, Rosleigh laughed a little, shaking her head before sliding the bowl to Hama, "I'm far too anxious to think about food right now..."

Glancing to him, she smiled, "I'm so tired, I feel like I could fall asleep standing up, yet the idea of laying down seems impossible. I've never felt so conflicted about something so simple."

They had a lot to think about... Not just regarding one another. There was a mess of intriguess to be settled, espionage to be handled... Their trouble was just beginning.
 
Hama took the bowl offered, Boeing his head politely to the gift, and he began to eat slowly, savoring the taste of coconut and corn. He wiped his mouth as she spoke, and his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Well, it is late and the espionage shall go nowhere until we have firmly been put to bed. I am sure that somewhere Etzla has room to lay our heads," Hama assured her softly. "Doctor's orders - sleep is a necessity, no matter how excited you are to thwart plans."

He grinned at her and her antics. She had grown much in such a small amount of time.

He turned back to his dessert, and he said, "What would your family think of you now? Interfering with politics."
 
Her smile coy, playful and light, Rosleigh nodded, "Well. I wouldn't think to disobey my doctor. I'll try my best to sleep, anyway." Eventually, she knew, her body's exhaustion would win out over her raging thoughts anyhow.

As she considered his next question, a faint chuckle escaped, "The funny thing is... I imagine they'd be more upset about me making designs regarding my heart. Politics are so far from anything they'd expect me to do, but falling for my doctor? That's enough to set my mother into a spin."
 
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