封印の剣

lionsword​:

He should have guessed that this couldn’t be resolved without bloodshed. Roy braced himself as roy charged at him. He frowned at the other’s battle cry. “It isn’t ‘Power of Binding’… it doesn’t need anything more than my will.” He had to stop himself from further coaching as he was rushed by his adversary. The real Binding Blade flared bright and Roy swung, grunting at the impact between the two of them.

They collided, swords clashing together. Roy could’ve had him, but-

Roy paused, mid swing. The other roy stopped too, both of them turning to look at Marth on the ground and the gaggle surrounding him. Did these people care nothing for true strength of heart? Were they so easily swayed by mere appearance and charisma? What a sorry state of affairs. Little did these imposters realize, even on the basis of swoon-worthy sex appeal, the real King Marth still had this imposter beaten.

Roy put a hand on his chest, making his declaration heard across the square,

“What you see before you is a shadow of the true Marth! He’s even dreamier than any of you can possibly imagine!”

The crowd gasped. Roy pressed on.

“I may not be Marth’s ✧･ﾟ *✧･ﾟ babygirl ✧･ﾟ *✧･ﾟ , but I am his friend, his companion, the sort of pure bond shared between knights and warriors.” Roy turned his gaze towards the sky, wind whipping dramatically across his face. “His only  ✧･ﾟ *✧･ﾟ babygirl ✧･ﾟ *✧･ﾟ is his wife, Queen Caeda, and he is loyal and true.”

Someone from the audience was disappointed. “He’s married?”

The false Marth bolted up, crying out, “Wait, it isn’t so! Do you see a ring, my darling Snookums?” He blew a kiss with a clearly ringless hand, eyes soft and dewy, drawing the crowd back in.

Roy exchanged a glance with Leif. This seemed too far gone for argument.

“HYAAAAAAAAAAAA!” he bellowed, rushing at Marth who was still prone in an aesthetically pleasing pose on the ground.

      …How the hell was Roy saying those things with his mouth??? Leif watches, as rapt as the audience gathered (though maybe for slightly different reasons), glancing around to see how this might affect the encounter from here on out.

He trusts Roy probably was saying the truth about Marth’s character here, given how intensely he puts his all behind it; Leif wouldn’t be able to say anything to the contrary anyhow. He knows the part about Caeda if nothing else was true, having met the woman and discussed this very thing himself.

…Huh? Why was the married part what everyone was focusing on? And why was that the thing actually to put the imposter in dire straits?!

Roy takes advantage of the situation to apprehend Marth, and while he did that, there was still the matter of the other roy. Before anyone took notice and they lost their chance, Leif takes that meaningful glance and the direction of Roy’s charge as his hint to change his own target, rushing the false Young Lion himself.

He was big, burly, and perhaps a difficult foe to take down. But Leif casts another charge of light magic from his Light Brand right in front of the faker’s face, dazzling him with a blinding sight as he took the opportunity to sneak from behind and try to knock out the man with the hilt of his sword.

So much for him being ‘undefeatable’.

“ Roy! ”

There was one issue...

The crowd around them gasped. One woman pointed at Roy, hand over her mouth. "How awful! Look what he did! Come on, he's gotta only be five feet tall. Get him!"

Roy blanched. "I'm five TWO-"

His protests didn't matter as the fan horde swarmed him, hands, elbows, knees, and whatever else could reach him shoving him away from Marth. Roy was reluctant to draw a sword on civillians no matter how unruly they were, but he was practically being trampled, boots kicking at him in the crowd.

"Leif!" he called out, hoping for a rescue.

gentlenekomata​:

will you take my leaves? | Sakura&Roy

Enjoying tea came with being nobility, though Roy wasn’t able to tell most leaves from another. He’d also been informed that his magic skills were… on par with Hector’s, to be kind, and so he’d leapt at the chance to study both tea and its potential clairvoyant mysteries.

He was instantly endeared to the priestess girl he was seated with. A warm smile was already on his face before he finished speaking, and he nodded politely. “May it be so. I am Roy, and the pleasure is equally mine.” Though they were to study a magical art, socialization was its own ritual. He wished he could be less formal sometimes… but he sensed at least, the warmth between them was genuine.

Their table was elegantly set, everything exactly in its proper place. Roy eyed the teapot and their cups, hoping his familiarity with the custom of tea was enough there.

“Shall I pour us a cup?” He gingerly lifted the teapot and served Sakura first, and then himself. “What kind of leaves are these? They have a lovely aroma.”

As she listened to his name, a bell rung inside her head, knowing she has actually already heard that name: he was definitely part of the nobility, probably a prince, but she wasn’t so sure, since she hadn’t attended so many bureaucratic meeting or formal ceremonies. Despite this, she wanted to know more about his new companion and as the young boy asked the question, the petite priestess gently nodded at the proposal and then eagerly replied to his curiosity, actually very happy to being able to share her herborist  knowledge in plants and leaves.

“It’s not very common, actually.. and I’m very surprised to use it” she giggled, admitting his excitement in using a rare leaves for the making of a tea, “It’s a rose petal blend: it’s a mixture of different leaves and petals of roses and it’s quite rare to find” she gave a proper look at it, then put it in both their cups, already filled with steamy water. “I think that it might be quite useful for studying tasseomancy too!” she pondered, though smiling at the thought of discovering it. “I guess only patience will help us with this discovery..” she let a soft sigh, then she addressed her gaze once again over her new acquaintance.

Roy reflected a smile back to her, trying to relax despite his nerves at whatever the leaves may say. He thought she might be nervous about her future too, going by the faintest blush on her face. He knew that even someone like Sophia wasn't certain of the future all the time, and he didn't think the leaves would do much better, yet whatever hint they gave would mean something, right?

"Oh, you're too kind. I hardly feel graceful compared to someone as elegant as you are," he said genuinely. "But you're right, I am of House Pherae back home in Elibe. My father..." was alive, sort of, but Roy guessed that his father's younger self's presence didn't negate the title he'd inherited. "..is Lord Eliwood, Marquess of Pherae, though I suppose that's now me."

He didn't really like everyone calling him Lord Roy, but he also didn't want to lie about his lineage either.

lionsword​:

Sophia had a gift of prophecy so Roy shouldn’t be surprised that she could just make statements like that, but the way she said he will get married someday made his stomach swoop despite his already established certainty. Should I ask for spoilers? He wondered. No… best to not accidentally meddle with it.

It didn’t stop his face from rising in temperature. She went even further, and Roy laughed awkwardly. “Y- you think so? I know father was so happy with my mother… I’d like to have that too. I’d do my best, of course. Um. Thank you, Sophia. It’s really sweet of you to say that.”

Sophia being left alone didn’t feel right to Roy.

“Well… sometimes the future changes in ways we don’t expect, right? If you get to be with someone, they’ll be so lucky to have you.”

This conversation, even for someone historically oblivious, was making Roy even wonder how friendly this was coming across. Thankfully, she seemed okay with accompanying him as a friend. All was just fine and totally friendly, as friends do. He’d do the same thing with his other friends, like Larum or Shanna.

Yeah!

Roy opened the door for her with a polite nod, his heart hammering. His wedding was far away, but still. He followed Sophia in and started browsing through white suits, pulling off the first one that looked like it’d fit him. It was a bit frilly, but he didn’t mind. “Is this good? I guess I have to actually put it on…”

If she got to be with someone, huh? The chances of that are quite low and even if she did get married…well, there’s no need to bring that up now and ruin his good mood. If Lord Roy wished to treat her as a “normal” girl, then she could be a “normal” girl for the day.

“…Yes, the future…is not set in stone. My power isn’t very strong…so I can’t say for certain. Things…can always change. I’m sorry…I don’t wish to burden you with uncertainty.”

The inside of the shop is an explosion of every shade, tint, and hue of white imaginable. Sophia blinks once, twice, trying to let her eyes adjust to the overstimulating sight before her. This much white all in one place could probably rival Ilia, though it is considerably warmer here.

Shell-shocked by the seemingly endless options, Sophia glances over at Roy for help, but he has already wandered off to look at suits. It didn’t look this overwhelming from the outside, but inside, it’s clear how out of her element she is. 

Regardless, hesitation gives way to curiosity and she rifles through the available dresses. There are so many different cuts and different fabrics. Should she just choose something like what she usually wears? No, that would defeat the purpose. Maybe something with a lot of lace and ruffles…? It’ll probably have to be pretty long, since she doesn’t have the confidence for a short skirt…

As if to save her from her indecision, Roy returns fairly quickly, suit in hand. Sophia nods her approval of his choice, although, that doesn’t say much when she would probably approve of anything he showed her.

“White suits you, Lord Roy. Oh, um…that’s not to say that your armor or your uniform…don’t suit you. Your hair is a bright color…like fire…so you will look good in lots of colors.”

Roy didn't need to spent long looking at suits- really, they were all about the same to him, though he imagined whoever he shared his future with would make the trip to a bridal shop in earnest take a little longer. He found Sophia in one of the dress aisles, brushing past endless long skirts to find her.

Her words, though he'd expected them to be kind, still made him chuckle awkwardly. "O-oh? Thank you. I suppose I could branch out more from my uniform, or blue." He supposed his hair was reminiscent of fire, especially in sunlight.

But he wasn't the only one who was suited for white.

"I can't imagine any of these dresses not looking nice on you," he admitted. "Big sleeves, normal sleeves, no sleeves- different um, chest angle- whatever you pick, as long as you like it, I'm sure it'll be perfect. It's more about finding something that you like more than what other people think you'd like." He beamed at her, thinking that made sense.

starter for @lionsword .

A “reason class”, this was. Idunn already had an idea of what it would entail- this was a school after all, and yet to her it was all still new since never in her life Idunn had attended classes before. Her knowledge was either learned through experience or forced into her body against her will, never taught in an environment like this and much less in groups. The idea was, all in all, exciting.

It hadn’t started yet, however. As she stood close to the door holding her notebook close to her chest, Idunn watched as some chatted and stood around while others picked their seats and waited for the teacher to arrive. There seemed to be no rules regarding the seats, since she noticed how some students always sat in different places next to different people.

Idunn often sat in the back of the room. She didn’t mind it. But now…

The sight of a familiar face caught her gaze. Flaming hair, kind blue eyes, that bandana…quick flashes of memory took over her focus. Standing at the Sanctuary, facing the chamber’s entrance as a group of warriors marched in led by a young man wielding a much familiar blade. The promise of battle urged her heart to race and for her blood to boil, and yet she couldn’t find the will for it. An empty puppet with no master, Idunn put up little resistance against the group. The battle was sealed with that blade’s gleam, her consciousness fading, and something deep inside telling her that all would be okay.

Blink.

Roy.

Roy was here. She already knew that- she picked this house for that exact reason. He was there. The warmth of familiarity caused her heart to pick up a little, and she wanted to be near him. He saved her. He could’ve killed her or left her to die, but he chose to spare her and give her a second chance at life. Was this gratitude? It had to be.

Idunn walked out of her spot, and wordlessly sat next to Roy. She didn’t know what to say or if she should say anything, but being around someone she knew not only by name but that helped her so much already seemed enough for her mind. Part of her wanted to tell him many things- about Arcadia, about Fae, the things she discovered about the world and herself. To thank him.

Ah, that was more important. She wanted to thank him, above all.

He flipped through his notes, intense concentration warping his face. Reason was his weakest subject. All the more reason to learn and study hard, but he still felt nervous about missing anything important or messing up spells even when he knew what he was doing- or thought he knew what he was doing. He laid out his notebook and textbook in front of him, eyes raised to the chalkboard for any secrets scrawled between the sigils.

Well, he shouldn't neglect to at least say hello to his neighbor in the moments before their lecture.

"Hello, Idunn." He said casually, smile on his face. Roy turned back to his notes.

Hey.

lionsword​:

Roy watched wide eyed as the rush of Hector’s clean, fierce swing cleaved through the skeleton’s spine. The job wasn’t done, though, the skeleton still trying to swing. Roy could imagine Hector kicking its skull like a football, but it was too aggressive for that just yet.

Everything his father had said about the mighty Hector was proving true before his eyes. How wondrous, if not for Roy’s own barely explainable relationship to Eliwood.

“On it!”

He ran forward, jumping on the remnants of a ribcage as the skeleton hissed and struggled. Roy kept his hand poised on his blade, eyes flickering up to Hector’s intense gaze. He managed to keep his balance, but this still needed to end quickly.

“Ready!”

Hector grinned - and that did not necessarily bode well for Roy.

“All right! Hold a moment—”

There remained the issue of proper footing to contend with, but Hector was fairly confident he’d be fine. If this thing was going to keep on trying to gnaw at the ankles even after it’d been dismantled, then it needed to be relocated, and the sooner the better.

Winding up, he charged, and

Wooosh! CRACK!

What remained of the skeleton’s body after bits and pieces disintegrated to the kick flew, becoming a mere speck in the distance.

A few shards remained below,

and those, too, trembled.

With a scowl, Hector stooped, swept them up into a gauntleted hand - and crushed the pieces to a fine dust.

“And that’s that.”

With a satisfied huff, Hector turned to Roy to lend him a hand up - this, before remembering he was ticked at the guy.

That could wait a moment, however.

“Good job,” he offered. “Doesn’t keep you off my shit list, but you did well.”

Wait.

"Wow. I-impressive!"

The bone dust drifted in the hot breeze in front of Roy's face. Hector's fist and the dust itself both fought for his attention, but he ultimately forced himself to meet Hector's gaze. Roy stumbled as he stood up, brushing himself off and trying to not think too hard about the potential bone to sand ratio of whatever was stuck to his clothes.

The boots? Roy glanced around, expecting to find them half buried in the sand, or perhaps lying a ways away. He couldn't see anything. "That's odd, I don't see any sign of them." Roy even kicked his feet out for Hector to see he wasn't magically wearing them either.

lionsword​:

Roy hoped that he wouldn’t do anything else embarrassing in front of her. He didn’t need people to see him as being overly formal or anything, but he did want her to think he was competent, at least. Cool, even. He could be cool, right?

He didn’t want to stare as she took a swing at the tree, already busy with his side. A few swings of Roy’s axes later, and he noticed he was only hearing his own axe.

Relieved for the break, he left his axe and went to her, looking at the axe embedded in the tree and Lilina struggling to pull it out. Her face was bright pink and for a moment Roy’s wanted to follow. Why was she so beautiful even in a situation like this? He stared for a split second, then he remembered where he was.

“Oh, it’s okay. I got it.” Roy reached for the axe, hand momentarily touching hers, at which point his ears also went bright pink.

Thankfully, he was able to pull out the axe with ease once he recovered.

“Here.” He handed it to her with a smile. “You just swung so powerfully it got stuck is all.”

At his interception, she should have backed away then and there. His hand brushes hers and she pulls away surprised at the sudden contact. In comparison, Roy removes the axe swiftly as if it were just laying there. 

          “Oh,” she takes the axe back, holding it close to her. Though she couldn’t help the shy smile on her face and the pink that tinged the tips of her ears and cheeks. Conscious of this, she averts her eyes and shifts awkwardly trying to find something else to direct her attention on. “…Thanks. You’ve already collected a few logs, haven’t you? I should hurry so we can get this back to the village.” 

          Brows furrow in thought. Though truthfully, she wasn’t going to get far at the pace she was going. She looks down at the axe in her hands. She could try smaller branches or… A glance back to him. Perhaps she could ask for a demonstration ( she wouldn’t mind if his hands were on hers again ).  

          No, she should figure this out herself. Arm strength wasn’t her forte, even leveraging the pivotal motion and momentum wasn’t enough. If her axe was heated maybe then or… Head snaps back to the fallen tree still halfway cut. It was worth a try. 

          Lilina summons a flame in her fingertips and draws circles along the length of the tree, leaving ample space between each section. The fire eats at the wood, charring it in its wake, then she puts the flames out and the axe cuts through the blackened bits much easier. Soon enough, she has a sizeable, albeit a bit burnt, amount of firewood to take back. 

Roy paused his chopping when he saw a flicker out of the corner of his eye. He blinked, watching as Lilina used a small flame to slice through the tree trunk. It looked cleaner and easier than what he'd been doing with an axe.

"Woah." He briefly thought to the Binding Blade at his side, but reconsidered.

Roy smiled, laughing softly to himself. "That's a great idea, Lilina! I'd try it myself, but I think I might burn down the entire forest."

They had more than enough to count as a decent haul. He nodded, hoping he seemed proud of her.

lionsword​:

Were they not already so deep into their roles and in such unusual, watched circumstances, Roy might’ve burst into giggles at Marth’s comment, even though his own antics were to blame for it. He couldn’t have believed that either of them were capable of saying things like this, but it seemed they were really able to do anything.

That, and Marth’s own personal confidence and charm reassured Roy. He was used to being a leader, used to being thrown into situations in which he was in far over his head, but this felt fun. They were on a serious mission, but he wasn’t worried. He just enjoyed being in Marth’s presence.

Whoever got to have Marth in their life was really lucky.

Roy smiled at him, holding in the laugh, but still genuine, grinning, and face slightly pink. Marth was unique, truly. Handsome, personable, and even when saying something about being bad behaved in that tone, Roy couldn’t help but feel anything but admiration, warm admiration. Where they physically touched through gloved hands felt a bit extra warm to Roy, but that was fine.

However, he couldn’t spend all night staring at his not-date.

They fluidly moved through the crowd, keeping in step with the tempo of the song to investigate the commotion, as any responsible, concerned guests might.

“Oh no, here, let me help you up.” Roy stooped to assist the servant, careful to support him. “Are you alright?” The servant seemed grouchy, as was understandable, but he nodded, assuring Roy that he was physically alright. Roy turned to Marth.

How to make an escape that seemed natural.

Roy held up his hand, showing wine stains on his white glove. It had happened when he’d reached down to help the servant, the spill from his clothes transferring to Roy’s glove. “I need to go find a spare, but… surely everyone will excuse us, I wouldn’t want to go alone.” He took Marth’s wrist and gave a gentle but seemingly urgent tug in the direction of the fleeing suspect, and to anyone overhearing, it might’ve sounded only like he wanted a moment alone with his date, which wasn’t exactly proper, but frankly he assumed it was universally understandable.

               Rapt attentions flutter from each other to another, needing no words to communicate shared suspicions toward a runaway troublemaker. When Marth turns to Roy anew his expression shares in the same duplicity, a suggestive love on the outside, and a greater urgency- a return to mission form- on the inside. Their partnership is still yet a new one, but with their minds tethered so many times to the same wavelength, it is fortunate that they work well together regardless; although, his strong appreciation of this fact must come later; their work here is far from done.

               “What am I to do with you, my little lionheart? You are helpless to be apart from me… how I love this side of you.” A chuckle pitched to purring delight combined with his boneless lack of resistance in being tugged forward; an act, altogether, that fortified the long slumbering muscles of theater and stage play. “It can’t be helped, it seems we shall have to go together, and I would have it no other way.”

               Further solidifying the impression of an inseparable pair, his arm slips smoothly around the other’s waist, hand perching over a hip. Two lovebirds seeking for a moment all to themselves, replete with touches for the mere sake of touching and meaningfully exchanged glances- that is the guise they must wear as they slide past the other couples, into the corridors away from the main ballroom. Better not to arouse suspicion, or worse- panic- in the civilian attendees, but also in view of the unknown eyes belonging to possible accomplices. One could never be too careful.

               The occasional knock of their gazes brings his wordless smile to the forefront, reassuring and playful all in one. The farce ends when Marth pushes into the fork of several hallways with a swivel of his head toward both the east and west. As expected, a whisper of movement disappears around the corner- always around the corner it seems- and now it is this king’s turn to tug Roy in the right direction:

Roy's cheeks steadily approached the shade of his hair. He suddenly understood the need to lay down somewhere and kick his legs while gushing about someone. Marth, the figure of handsomeness and chivalry, draped in elegance so natural it was impossible to imagine him not commanding the reverence and adoration of all those around him, let such endearments past his lips with such ease that Roy's knees threatened to go weak. Nevermind that they were the same gender, Roy assumed this effect would happen to anyone in his position.

The mission. The mission. The mission.

The mission.

He covered his mouth and giggled, ears red, not acting at all, but it still served its purpose to camouflage him as Marth's partner as he and Marth made their escape past other staring couples in the ballroom, tracking down their potential thief.

Roy exchanged smiles with Marth, recovered enough to do so without seeming completely smitten. Their acts were gone, but the warmth in his chest wasn't quite burnt out.

"Right. Let's catch up." Roy followed along after Marth, hand hovering near his sword. This, he was used to. Their pursuit wasn't exactly quiet, and from the vanishing of a cloak around a corner up ahead, their query had broken into a run. Roy took off after them, determined to catch up.

lionsword: (con't)

Roy had read the note about ten times. He paced, as if there was some sort of strategy he needed to come up with, but there was none. Of course he should just go and play it cool, like he hadn't spent all day thinking about her note. Okay. He'd faced armies and all number of difficult battles. Lilina liked him, right? So why was he so worried? He patted down his pockets, shoving a mint inside his mouth. No reason. Maybe he'd have mints before every meeting from then on. He jogged up the steps to the Goddess Tower, arriving a few minutes early. "Lilina?"

What if he didn't show up? Lilina paces the floor of the tower, thumbnail pressed to her lip creating excuses as to why he may not show. And if he did? Would he think she looked silly? She didn't tell him why in her note, but the ball was the event she was looking forward to all year. A dance with her father, a dance with Roy, laughing and chatting with the other nobles, only for it to fail to come to fruition. She couldn't travel back in time, but maybe she could still make this night special.

           She had spent so much time trying on dresses with Cecilia, so she might as well wear the one they had picked out tonight. And telling him any detail about the dress code would ruin the surprise that she hoped he would like. Plus... she didn't care what he wore, she would fall for him each time.

           Her footsteps slow to a stop as she hears her name.

           "Roy!" Lilina turns to greet him, expression bright as ever only for it to fall briefly. In turn, a bashful flush colors her and her gaze is drawn to the floor. "I'm sorry for disappearing on you at the dance. ...I fell asleep and well..."

           She takes a step forward and reveals the sunflower boutonniere she had meant to give to him much earlier. Shaky hands move to pin it to his chest where a pocket might lie. "Not that it was intentional, but... I wanted to make it up to you by inviting you here tonight."

"Lilina," he replied back, a little airy. He blinked. She felt the need to apologize? Roy moved close to her, quick to reassure. "Oh no, it's okay! I'm just glad you're feeling alright."

She produced a little bundle of sunflowers, just as they'd talked about. "Thank you so much. They're beautiful." Roy patted where she'd pinned them, smiling.

"I didn't... bring anything."

Here goes.

lionsword​:

“That sounds lovely, Lilina,” he gushed, swept up in the joy of planning their day together. He didn’t often like the formal side of his station, but this was an exception, if he got to spend it with her. “What color? Anything you like.” Roy would wear any flower she wanted, as long as it made her happy.

She was still polite, but Roy knew he’d blundered big time by how her expression shifted.

He withered under her side glance, mouth dry. Lilina was a kind, loving, adoring person, so no doubt she would feel deeply for her father no matter his age or timeline. Roy made a somewhat panicked sound under his breath, not wanting to start off the rest of their lives with a misunderstanding.

“No, wait. I apologize, that came out wrong.” Roy grimaced, still blushing. “Lord Hector greatly prefers my father’s company to mine, I believe. After all, I look like his best friend who isn’t here anymore. We’ve had some… encounters. I’m sure he’ll come around, right?”

Right? Right? Please?

With that, he bowed ever so slightly to her, hoping to bring the mood back up.

“I swear on my honor, I shall not even come close to treading on your toes at the dance, Lilina, whether your father catches me or not.” Roy rose back up, offering her his hand. “Any time with you is dear to me.” Even if it may be followed by an exit, pursued by Hector.

As quickly as he trips over his words, he rectifies it just as fast. She treasures her father and let that cloud her judgement, but she treasures Roy as well. If it was true what he implied, she would have a talk with her father if need be. ( She had to get her stubbornness from somewhere. ) As much as she wishes her two favorite people would get along, there is a part of her that comes to realize the reservations they may hold, but they would eventually see eye-to-eye. They were more alike than they thought.

          Lilina takes his hand again with a small smile. Though they had only confessed moments ago, it felt right to hold it in her own, safe, warm. It was her turn to press a chaste kiss to his knuckles now. “I feel the same, let us not spend unnecessary moments misunderstanding one another. Time is constantly fleeting from us,” she tugs him gently to pull him closer to her, “and I’d rather spend it by your side than with our backs turned.”

          “As for the flowers… Well, red is my favorite color,” she muses, without considering her words. Realization sinks in as she stares at their joined hands and suddenly, she too is red. “A-Ah, but I was planning on wearing that color, so perhaps something that complements it.”

Lilina kissed the back of his knuckles, soft and chaste, and Roy could only manage a wiggly smile, torn between sobbing with joy or trying to kiss her back, and landing on standing still and happily stunned.

"Oh- um. Blue is mine." Roy tapped his headband, but his eyes and mind were still focused on Lilina's hair. "So- so yes, we should compliment each other. In the colors we wear."

He was so happy she had a better idea. "Sunflowers sound lovely," he gushed. "They go with blue and red, right? We can match."