Ariade sprang to his feet with the unbridled enthusiasm of a pup eager for approval, his cheeks flushing under the torchlight.
"Aragon! Gods be good, meeting you is the hardest thing nowadays."
He pulled Ariade into a brief, brotherly clasp, the gesture evoking the protective bond between mentors and wards in the old tales.
He returned the embrace fiercely, then stepped back with a grin that lit his features.
"Come, sit. We've much to discuss—I've been waiting like a squire at his first tourney."
Everyone present in the courtyard was a little surprised seeing Ariade smiling like that. It had been a while since he had smiled; after losing his mother and brother, he had stopped coming out too.
Ariade and Elizleta were staying at the castle after they retreated from the capital.
They sank together onto the largest plush, the feathers yielding with a soft sigh beneath their weight.
