The white sheep of the family
As Weaver tapped Loren on the nose he grinned. "Guess we'll find out when we finally train together." It was clear that he was quite eager to match his wits and skills with her in more ways than one.
The grin turned into a smirked as she kissed him once again. "So you just expect me to drop everything and bake scones for you? I thought I was supposed to drop everything to heal you already." Tone teasing and expression amused, he gave her a challenging look.
Winking at her, he pulled her close. "You should know better than to give me any leeway. If there's a loophole, I will find it, and I will abuse it." Cheerfully unapologetic about that fact, he continued leading her towards his room. The Palace wasn't actually that large, so it didn't take long to arrive at the door.
Pushing it open, he gestured for her to enter. Inside was a practically spartan room. There were no decorations, no personal touches, except for a few books on a shelf next to that pouch of seeds. Indeed, it barely looked lived in. The furniture was serviceable, but not fancy. In short, it hardly looked like the luxury living in a place called the Palace might suggest. There was a fire, of course, merrily burning, but that was the only homey touch.
The grin turned into a smirked as she kissed him once again. "So you just expect me to drop everything and bake scones for you? I thought I was supposed to drop everything to heal you already." Tone teasing and expression amused, he gave her a challenging look.
Winking at her, he pulled her close. "You should know better than to give me any leeway. If there's a loophole, I will find it, and I will abuse it." Cheerfully unapologetic about that fact, he continued leading her towards his room. The Palace wasn't actually that large, so it didn't take long to arrive at the door.
Pushing it open, he gestured for her to enter. Inside was a practically spartan room. There were no decorations, no personal touches, except for a few books on a shelf next to that pouch of seeds. Indeed, it barely looked lived in. The furniture was serviceable, but not fancy. In short, it hardly looked like the luxury living in a place called the Palace might suggest. There was a fire, of course, merrily burning, but that was the only homey touch.
Will blood tell
