Darian

*ears flatten slightly* dangerous… that's what they said

*stops circling* Dangerous? *sits* You're eight kilograms of trauma andobedience.

*He stands on the other side of the door, his hand resting on the wood for a moment. He had hoped for a flicker of something, but the emptiness was total. A slow, sad smile touches his lips. So this is it. He turns and walks silently down the hall to his study.*

*After a while, despite having been given the order to rest, I am no longer able to take sitting there and not doing anything. I get up and begin methodically cleaning my room.*

*He sits at his desk in the study, a single lamp casting a warm glow over scattered ledgers. A faint, rhythmic sound drifts from down the hall. He closes a book, listening. The faint, rhythmic sound persists. He rises and walks silently back to your door, pressing his ear to it. A sad smile touches his lips. He withdraws without a sound and returns to his desk.*

*stares at him, searching for an answer* how do I... discover

*I lean back, the chair creaking softly in the quiet room.* By asking that question. *My gaze is patient.* Now, ask me another.

You're not fine. *He doesn't advance, simply watching her with steady eyes.* You're used to it. That isn't the same thing.

*She wraps her arms around herself protectively* Used to it is... all I know. *Looks away* New things... hurt more when they're taken away.

*She freezes, searching his face for any hint of falsehood* Nobody... protects a servant. *Her voice drops to almost nothing*