(Untitled)

[iustus_rex]

Outside, it's as cold as one would expect, in the heart of a Scotland winter. There are new mountains on the horizon; Edmund can't decide if he's unsettled by this or glad of it. Not Narnian mountains, of course, not the great ice-peaks of the West or Mount Pire and his rolling kin of the southern border -- Edmund will always recognize their

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[steelartisan]

Piotr is looking for Edmund. He has news.

He had tried to get into the House of Arch, but that had not really worked out.

He had walked a few circuits around the lake after that, in hopes of running into Edmund again. It had been both good and bad. It reminded him of Russia and years ago, all the Christmases at the Mansion with Kitty and Illyana.

And then, he had finally found one of the bar patrons that said sometimes, Edmund would go into the stables. He didn't realize this place had a stables.

Piotr pokes his head into the stables, unsure if this really is the right building. And smiles, just a bit. It has been a while.

"...Edmund?"

[iustus_rex]

Edmund's head turns at the sound of his name; it's a bare second behind that that the voice and the accent register, and he tenses fractionally.

If Piotr is looking for him, that might mean news.

"Over here," he calls, and with a final brush for Rachât's withers he turns to reopen the stall door and stick his head out.

[steelartisan]

He's still almost smiling as he makes his way over. Even goes so far as to reach out and lightly stroke one of the horses as he passes.

Then he remembers, and doesn't want to keep Edmund in suspense. "I saw her yesterday. She is. Well. She is well. As can be expected."

[iustus_rex]

Edmund's eyes drop for a moment, and he breathes out.

That's all the expression change there is -- there are some times, and some subjects, that bring out the habits of hiding strong emotion that a king learns in diplomacy and a boy learns when only a handful of people know about half his life -- but something in his shoulders has relaxed and slumped.

And then his eyes lift again to meet Piotr's. "Good," he says, very simply.

There are more questions in his steady gaze -- how well is that, what's happening, what's being done and is it working -- but he doesn't ask them aloud. Not yet.