It’s a modest gift consisting of one package stacked atop the other and neatly tied together with a length of twine. The smaller of the two contains a leather pouch carrying wyvern talons. Although her hexes were frowned upon by some, Syalla possesses the prince’s trust to utilize the ingredients in good faith. His offering is a testament to this. “Courtesy of Nohr’s wyvern population,” he smiles sheepishly. The second was purchased on more of a whim. Inside the box, a small wooden doll bearing great likeness to the diviner awaits her. It’s a childish thing he realizes now and she’s beyond the age of playing with toys. Dark tresses soft as silk had convinced him it was worth the coin. The figure’s quality spoke for itself. However, seeing her, he fears it too juvenile for a grown woman. Uncertainty reddens his cheeks as she looks at him curiously. It’s at this point Siegbert realizes the present is still in his possession and he’s yet to hand it over. “My apologies, Ah!- Here. Happy birthday, Syalla."
Rare enough was she “graced” by the Nohrian Prince’s presence. Their literal handful of meetings was enough to call them both acquaintances, but it was not enough for Syalla to suspect his true intentions when he came to see her with packages in tow. She had eyed Siegbert for a moment, then to the packages in his hands, then back to him, then back to the packages. What is the meaning of this? she seems to ask without so much as a word. She had found this to be quite... suspicious. For what purpose does he come with packages in hand? Does he offer himself as an assistant to her wares? That would explain the wyvern talons. ( Gods know that she had spent ages trying to get her hands on those to no avail. ) Was it to taunt her into carrying those boxes for him? No... cynical was her suspicions, but even she can admit that the thought was ludicrous. All that Syalla could do was look upon the packages in his hand curiously. Besides, it wasn’t like those boxes were actually for her, right? If it was, he would have offered them to her by now.
She notices the color rising in his cheeks as if it was timed with her thoughts, but it was what Siegbert has said afterward that keeps Syalla from sneering.
“...what?”
The boxes were for her then... it was for her birthday. How did Siegbert know about her birthday? Surely one of the other kids must have told him about it, since Syalla didn’t remember talking about the subject to him about it. ( Perhaps it was just mentioned as an off shoot comment of hers. It would explain why she couldn’t remember talking to him about it. ) Her hands wrap around the base of the bottom box before lifting it from his hands. The first, she now knew, were wyvern talons... finally. But it was the second that Syalla was curious about since Siegbert didn’t mention its contents. Placing her new talons aside, she unceremoniously proceeded to open the second box before the prince. And what she had discovered was... unexpected, to say the least.
A doll. How old did he think she was again?
Quirking an eyebrow at it, she picks up the little doll to her level with a rare delicacy to her hold. It... looked like her, once she has looked at it closely. A near replica of her. The wooden doll’s long dark tresses had echoed her own likeness, and the materials that adorned her were something that even Syalla’s own fingers can notice that it was well made. Was it custom made, she idly wonders to herself, to invoke such detail? She had outgrown the use for dolls long ago, but she isn’t cruel enough to denounce Siegbert’s effort in giving her these gifts. After all, he didn’t have to do this at all. So, she silently resolved to finding a use for little Syalla in the future.
“Awfully bold of you to come to my sanctum bearing gifts, Prince.” she finally speaks with her usual drawl. More neatly now, she gathers her gifts together in one place so that she could carry it more efficiently. Her small smile, while still resembling a wry smirk ( she really needed to work on that. ), was ever present. Its existence is an indication that Siegbert’s efforts did not go to waste. “...my thanks.”
