(Untitled)

[medea_players]

At the appointed time, the door slid open. The morning sunshine streamed through the slowly billowing curtains. A very nice day, certainly. Wearing her usual black and red dress, Loira beamed happily as she walked in carefully balancing a large basket of towels. Her voice was cheerful and pleasant as she strode towards the bathroom

Comments

[always_a_liar]

A surly comment from a decidedly male voice at Loira's comment. Ishamael stirred from his sleep. Black hair was mussed and wild as he looked up from the white blankets. Next to him only a bare shoulder and a shock of red hair spilled across the pillows was visible. He resented being awoken from his blissful slumber, body interwoven with his lady.

"Are you always so loud in the morning, Loira?"

[medea_players]

Loira's mouth drops open in shock, head snapping round to see Lord Ishamael- Oh, my.

"Oh! M-many apologies, my Lord, I had no idea..."

Flailing slightly without dropping the towels, she makes to turn back around and head directly back out. How careless of her - but given the... strained nature of her lady's usual relation with Ishamael she had hardly expected...

At the door, cheeks slightly pink, she turns and gives a low, uncertain curtsey and speaks in a much softer voice.

"If there is anything you require...?"

[always_a_liar]

His voice was still low and rough as he quietly commented. He did not intend to wander about the house only in his nightwear so he curtly replied.

"Have fresh garments for both of us brought in, and tell them to have breakfast ready soon."

Without another word, he sank back down and resumed the snug embrace they had been sharing. He wondered if she had been awakened by the little exchange.

[medea_players]

Loira curtsies again, expertly supporting the towels, before slipping out and sliding the door closed behind her.

Well. How very embarrassing. Mentally, she reprimands herself. That would want privacy this morning, and she had simply barged in like a girl still in her first week of training. She can at least make sure it doesn't happen again, and does so, keying for privacy on the pad by the door.

Continuing down the hall to pick out their clothing, she can't help but smile to herself, despite her chagrin. Lady Shelley is such an unhappy girl, but this must surely help her.