12-02-2018, 06:18 PM
The game is always better with a willing participant, but Breckin’s clipped answer suggests to the kelpie that she is not so amenable as at their last meeting. Perhaps he had made a mistake in letting her go so easily, but he had been certain he’d find her again. He’d been equally certain that she’d be as willing as she’d once been, but it seems that solving her troubles with love have made her less susceptible to his charms. The same thing had happened with Wishbone, he recalls, but it had taken minimal effort to persuade the young queen that he was uninterested in disrupting her love life.
Ivar is interested in very few things, after all, and none of them are love.
Her skepticism startles a grin out of the golden-eyed kelpie. Is he even capable of experiencing love? Probably not. He is, however, very good at imitation, and that has always been enough for him.
“You wound me,” he replies, but it is clear from the way his bright eyes dance and the grin remains on his pale face that the very opposite is true. Ivar takes a step closer, bargaining the loss of nearness from the sea with closer proximity to the spotted mare.
“Surely you’re interested in what might have happened to Ischia since your brothers abandoned it?” For all his charm, the kelpie makes no effort to hide the sour taste the mention of the Krakens leaves on his tongue. They are unimpressive, even more so since they have left the island for fear of a little cough. “I thought I’d tell you about what I’ve done with the place, now that it’s mine.”
Another step closer on the moonlight beach, so now their shadows are touching even if she remains just out of reach.
“We could discuss about relations between our kingdoms,” he offers with a shrug and a too-handsome grin, “Or we could do something more fun.”
Ivar is interested in very few things, after all, and none of them are love.
Her skepticism startles a grin out of the golden-eyed kelpie. Is he even capable of experiencing love? Probably not. He is, however, very good at imitation, and that has always been enough for him.
“You wound me,” he replies, but it is clear from the way his bright eyes dance and the grin remains on his pale face that the very opposite is true. Ivar takes a step closer, bargaining the loss of nearness from the sea with closer proximity to the spotted mare.
“Surely you’re interested in what might have happened to Ischia since your brothers abandoned it?” For all his charm, the kelpie makes no effort to hide the sour taste the mention of the Krakens leaves on his tongue. They are unimpressive, even more so since they have left the island for fear of a little cough. “I thought I’d tell you about what I’ve done with the place, now that it’s mine.”
Another step closer on the moonlight beach, so now their shadows are touching even if she remains just out of reach.
“We could discuss about relations between our kingdoms,” he offers with a shrug and a too-handsome grin, “Or we could do something more fun.”