There is no great showing of generosity. She knows the Commander doesn't appreciate pomp and circumstance. And so she leaves a small, unassuming box atop his desk in his tower. Within is an assortment of sculpted marzapan lions and lionesses roaring and sleeping and stalking prey. On the box is a note: "Sweet lions for a sweet lion. -E"
He sighed as the walkway to his tower opened up, allowing him into the dimly lit interiors of his quarters. The faint scent of crystal grace blossoming at the first morning of winter still lingers in the air around him. He knew it was her. His eyes then fell at the breadth of his desk, a small plainly looking box in sight. And here I thought I made it clear I didn’t want anything…
His lips echoed the message, reading it a few more times. "Sweet lions for a sweet lion…" He tried to convince himself by prying his eyes more open to wake up on this unbelievably sweet dream only to find that he was already wide awake. Did she just call him a sweet lion? And when did it occur as common knowledge that he has a penchant for simple sugary confections? He was certain he did not make it as clear as day. Or did he?  No, it was not him—Josephine. He may have to tell her a few words later.Shaking his head to dismiss the thought, he now eyed at the family of lions and lionesses that scattered around the tiny wooden enclosure. Each were crafted very intricately, tiny masterpieces that looked as if they were real. In silence, he observed them in awe, taking note of the skilled artisan behind such beautiful crafts. Do they make puppies out of this, too, he wondered. With extreme caution, he picked up the one at the middle, the one showing its teeth as it roared, the one that wore a thicker and darker mane, the undeniably leader of its pack. He stared at it, its sweetness whiffed through his nostrils.It was too beautiful to consume.
