"People, after all, are the ones to push the non-deserving creatures on the pedestal as if they were divine."
Luna's fingers tapped lightly against Xion's neck. Just that single touch sent a shiver down his spine.
"Hmm?" He glanced at the young woman, who only smiled sweetly, as though nothing unusual had happened.
Tightening the robe around his neck, he asked, "What kind of creatures?"
"The kind who think they deserve praise without ever earning it," Luna replied, adjusting the collar of his red shirt, which he'd mistakenly thought was a robe.
Her fingers were cool and steady, and Xion caught the faint scent of jasmine clinging to her sleeves.
Talia had always smelled like jasmine.
He had come to loathe it, though he couldn't very well ask others to stop wearing it just for his sake.
Ignoring his discomfort, he focused on Luna as she sank gracefully to her knees, fastening the cufflinks at his wrists.
"But you, Your Grace, deserve every bit of it."
