The courtyard basked under the lazy afternoon sun, framed by ivy-draped walls and soft moss that cushioned every footstep. A lone hummingbird hovered near a violet bloom, then zipped off as if it, too, sensed something big was about to happen.
Rodion stood in the center, utterly motionless, the gentle breeze ruffling the last bits of plush fabric that still showed around his joints. He looked almost shy waiting there. Almost.
Elowen pressed her hands together, knuckles whitening with anticipation. Her slippers tapped a fast little rhythm on the stones, and every few seconds she stole a glance at Mikhailis to make sure he was watching, too.
Mikhailis, arms crossed, let his weight settle into one hip. The pillar at his back felt cool, grounding him. Stars help me, she's going to squeal, he thought, amused. And if she squeals, the entire castle will come running.
Rodion's optics brightened, twin pools of pale sapphire.
