We Make Our Home Under the Stars

The capital city of the of Rynmere, here is seated the only King in Idalos.
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Zedarius
Posts: 29
Joined: Mon May 01, 2017 2:40 am
Race: Human
Profession: Knight / Blacksmith
Renown: 0
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Wealth Tier: Tier 1

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We Make Our Home Under the Stars

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Taking Odessa by the hand now, Zedarius guided her through the throng of people. Dinner was delicious, and the two were exceptionally full. Zed's cause to worry hadn't ceased since she'd picked through the food, eating just enough to not be rude. He could tell she still wasn't feeling well, and he was beginning to truly worry. Should she fall ill, he would have to ensure that she was taken care of if he were called to the Hand for a mission. Not that he doubted she would be. She was an Andaris, after all. Her basic care was likely better than any he'd received in his entire life.

Not that he blamed her for her birth. Nor she for him, most of the time. Zedarius was happy being the blacksmith's son, and he was even happier that she was the daughter of the Dragon, even if it meant she may have no real political influence. Zed actually preferred that she didn't, though she had spoken of wanting to wield the influence of the Andaris name more than a few times. Zedarius didn't care much for the noble politicians of Rynmere, and thought even less of them now that he'd fought to save King Cassander from the Usurper and his noble rebel queen. Though he'd spent the majority of his adulthood upholding the ideals of the noble knight, he found that most of the nobility themselves did not concern themselves with a code. Nobility for them was an excuse, not a standard. The thought brought a sour taste to his mouth.

And it surprised Zedarius that he loved Odessa as much as he did. As sardonic as his thoughts were regarding the nobility, Odessa embodied more than a few of them. She was spoiled, rich and demanding, but there was something innocent about her. Not that he'd ever tell her that. She'd cut off his nose, though it'd spite her all the same. No, Odessa sometimes portrayed the stereotype of the noble, but he found that she was so much more. She was beautiful, she was ladylike... But mostly, she was alive. Not in the sense that she wasn't dead, but she was guided by emotion and whimsy, which refreshed Zedarius' mind. He lived his life by a code, by doing the right thing despite the consequences. Odessa embodied a freedom for him, and he loved her for it.

And so he led her, his free-spirited philly, from the house. Inside was cramped and loud, and he wanted to make sure that she was going to be okay. He worried about her, and even more so this evening, because she was a socialite at heart. He'd seen her swallow her emotions long enough to put up with her family, with guests, with annoying tailors who kept complimenting her slender figure. She was the penultimate socialite, in fact, and so it scared Zedarius that she was so withdrawn this evening. He anticipated that she would be the center of attention at the party. Odessa had a way about her to draw all eyes to her. If it didn't happen naturally, some random occurrence would steer the evening that way. Zedarius thought it was cute; many did not.

And so the cool night air hit their faces as the emerged, bringing with it the faint smell of flowers. As things began to bloom, so too did the beautiful bouquet of scents in Andaris. The aroma was subtle, but there, and it reminded him of Odessa in the spring. With her petite hand in his own, he led her over to a tall tree, hung with small lights to help guide them. In his massive arms, he drew her from the earth, holding her aloft as he turned and placed his back against the tree. Without setting her down, he used powerful legs to slide them both down the tree, with him cradling her against him.

"Forgive me, my sweet, but you seem to be out of sorts this evening. Are you feeling ill still? Has it gotten worse?" The worry creased his brow as he looked into her eyes, concern clouding his bright orbs. He put a large hand against her head, which was slightly clammy to his touch, and sighed. He hugged her close, ensuring that she was enveloped in him. "If you are not feeling well, my love, I can carry you to the carriage. I am sure Damon could find his own way home. Should he even want to come home this trial."

He smiled at her and kissed the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her hair.

word count: 791

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