#tempxsta

|| 茜 || :: frustration was CLEAR on the face of the red-haired princess as she was walking back into the castle ground. the day started quite early for her --- and she was excited about getting a chance to do some TRAINING in the morning given how most people would like her to at least act lady-like in order to fit her image as royalty. not that the FIRE PRINCESS wanted the title. if anything, she was treated less than any other pure royalty blood anyway, so why did it matter ?

                  “ why did you stop me ? those guards were talking badly about you so the least you could do was letting me have a go at them if you weren’t going to retaliate ! ” now, her frustration was directed with a gaze towards the male behind her. after all, he was the one who STOPPED her from putting a sword at the neck of those royal guards who spouted demeaning words about her KNIGHT ( aka him. ) those guards showed no respect to her or him, and she wanted to teach them a lesson.

( late ) mistletoe. || selectively accepting

|| 茜 || :: let’s just say that sneaking out of the palace had become something of a NORM involving the fiery princess especially when she was supposed to attend a FORMAL BALL held by the royal family which would invite nobles from OTHER COUNTRIES and kingdoms to attend. of course, just by hearing the schedule itself, the PHOENIX was already planning her own escape — and with a help of a certain knight who was always roped into assisting her plan.

               “ come on — if you don’t hurry, they’re going to see us ! ” hushed voice and motioning of her hand for him to follow as they slipped out of the CASTLE GROUND through one of the smaller doors used by gardeners. trekking down the bricked walk path and it wasn’t long until they were OUT of dangerous zone. pulling the hood from her head, she flashed him a big grin.

               “ don’t make that face — you can’t tell me you want to be out of there as much as i do ! other royalties are a bore ! ” now that they were approaching the city itself, she wasn’t watching her words much regarding the formal social gathering she should’ve been attending. eyes then turned towards the CHRISTMAS LIGHTS and decorations all over the street. the town itself was celebrating the joyous occasion as well.

               “ uwahhh ~ !! it’s pretty — !! look how bright they were. i’d rather watch all these lights than having to talk to another royalty. ” a bit of a STUBBORN STREAK but nothing new from the female. her hand, however, was taking his own when those fiery gaze caught a sight of SOMETHING. her feet stopped, where she spun herself around and before he could ask what she was planning —

she pulled him down for a kiss — a soft touch of their lips which lingered in that moment in time as though there were nothing and no one around them.

a CHEEKY grin was what greeted him when she leaned back.

               “ merry christmas, g ~ and ah-ah — !! you can’t get mad — mistletoe — see ? see ? ” pointing upwards to the said PLANT that gave her an excuse to surprise him at his toes, though … she wasn’t going to admit she planned on giving him a kiss whether there was a mistletoe there or not. it was just convenient.

               not that he needed to know the whole truth, right ? right.

【☠】 →  The distinct sound of his tongue clicking in irritation shows just how annoyed he was as he stares at the target.  The arrow he had shot with confidence, and it had gone nowhere near the center where it would signal a killing blow.   

【☠】 → The temptation to draw his sword and simply slice the straw dummy was great, and it took a lot of his own self control not to do it.    

         Height - or rather, the lack thereof - had never been a touchy issue for Morgan. The half-taguel had learned to understand and quickly accept that every body type had its advantages and disadvantages, and her slight stature was no different. She would never have the vantage point that taller Shepherds (Laurent, Frederick, and Gregor were people who immediately came to mind) possessed, but someone with her frame could quite comfortably maneuver tight spaces with more ease… not to mention, the amount of hiding places were much greater.

          There were times, however, that the petite tactician felt only the shortcomings of her diminutive build, as was with the instance now. Precariously balanced on her toes, arm stretched to its fullest, fingers pawing as lightly as they could, trying to just touch that one jar set on the third highest shelf. On any other occasion the ravenette would have simply used a step-stool to compensate, but today, search as she might she could not find it. Someone had likely taken it for use, and so here she was, groping for that elusive container.

          And of course, with all her attention focused on that glass jar sitting almost mockingly atop that wooden shelving, her usually keen ears had missed the sound of someone’s approach until she heard the voice.

          “Need me to help you reach that?”

          Surprise squeaked past her lips, the unanticipated interruption to her concentration causing her to jump visibly. The small motion was enough - enough, that is, to jar her knee rather hard against the shelving. Which caused her to hop backwards, recoiling from the pain. Which caused her to stumble, balance lost, even as her eyes widened in speechless horror as she realized her jolt had given her that extra bit of height she’d needed to tip the vessel she’d struggled to get… except it was not in her grasp, but wobbling dangerously along with the rest of its companions. Gods be good, she was going to end up on the ground only to be showered with broken glass and herbs.

         Or what would have been the ground had someone not been standing behind her. Another yelp erupted from her as she felt the contact, and reflexively her hand grasped them for balance, some small part of her hoping they at least were capable of holding their ground. Morgan screwed her eyes shut, dreading the sound of breaking glass--

          Nothing. Slowly, she cracked one eye, then the other, open. The jars, though some had shifted, had thankfully - and frustratingly - remained all on the shelf. A sigh, somewhere between relief and dejection, and the tactician craned her neck to see who it was she was currently clinging onto.