sword point diplomacy 45 progress post

“Nice country you have here,” Prince Marcel said. “Very damp.” He tried to huddle further underneath his hood. “Exquisitely wet. Wetter than any other kingdom yet established. No wonder you all seek to spread this glory.”

“Oh, cease your babble,” Vivian said. Her mood was much improved now that they were near her family seat of power.

Kian shot her an impressed look. She had really loosened up on the road.

The Prince let out a long, dramatic sigh. “If only I were a sweet summer squash,” he bemoaned. “I would thrive here. My vines would cover the landscape, my leaves would sip of the morning dew, my roots-”

“You’re more of a cabbage,” Kian cut in. It meant absolutely nothing. A squash seemed more insulting to him personally. If you knocked on one with knuckles it sounded hollow, like an empty head. But if Marcel fancied himself a squash, he surely could not be one.

Marcel made an offended sound. “A cabbage?” He gestured to himself, inadvertently sending water flying. Some hit Kian on the face. “I resemble only the noblest of produce. In fact, I might be a peach, the summer crown of the table, delicate and sweet.”

Vivian laughed. “Are you certain that’s your dream?” A wicked smile played along her wide mouth. “Traditionally, a peace is a woman’s a-”

“Oh look, the rain might let up.” Kian said mildly.

“On what do you base that assertion, sir,” Marcel said. He leaned forward far enough that he could nearly kiss his horse’s head. “I see only grey skies and troughs emptying on the world for leagues.”

“He was lying to comfort your whining,” Vivian whispered. It easily carried between the three of them.

Marcel let out a faux offended huff. “Whining?”

“Whining,” Kian agreed. “But I do think the rain will pass soon.”

Not half an hour later, they passed into Treveylan lands, with their characteristic orchards. The first village was soon after. No one came to greet them, wet as it was, and it was just as well. The three continued onwards.

Soon after, the rain let up.

“I wish that we could continue,” Vivian said longingly,  but it was time to rest the horses. They all dismounted and gave the animals refreshments. They simply sat a while. Once long enough had passed, they all stood and started walking instead. It was not a true rest, but neither was it as demanding as carrying a human’s weight.

“We arrive tomorrow morning?” Marcel confirmed. The road above them lifted and curved. Kian followed it with his eyes, as did Vivian. Perhaps she knew what was on the other side. He did not.

“Yes, I want to put the horses up in stables in the next town, and to take a room at the monastary.” Vivian looked more relaxed than he had ever seen her. Her dark eyes were hanging only half open. She felt safe here. Kian chewed on the inside of his lip and did not relax his attention to their surroundings. They had been ambushed once. It could happen again anywhere.

“A proper bed,” Marcel said longingly. “I miss those days.”

Kian merely hummed.

The contrast in storylines is making me giggle while I write it. Anyone else getting whiplash?

Rose: suffering. Dissociating. Hostiles all around. Her new allies all think her vibes suck. Can she trust anyone?

Marcel, Kian, Vivian: on a nice nature tour, becoming besties, banter and ass kicking.