To think. The agony of it.
Caspian had thanked her for it all, and she smiled, as she does, in practice, though it would carry an ounce of a brow raise and a glaringly full set of teeth when she hears the words:
'come back with me...'
...but just as fast as the blatant show of excitement was the wrinkle of her nose and the wrath in her eyes when she heard him speak of the Silver Sliver.
It all seemed to happen in less than a tick. A woman dragged him out just as soon as he opened the door. There had been zero hesitation to his response—in fact, he’d gotten up swiftly and left with nothing but a cheeky grin and a wave that seemed more like the passing of the tides than it did the sign of returning.
And yet, she still waved back. Her lips pursed, her gaze following his, watching the swish of his tailored form and pointed shoes carry the essence of his wonder out of The Mystic Eye. The sound of the closing door echoed in her ears as her instinct to explain herself made the sybil stand and walk around her table.
It was as if he knew he needed to leave. As if he’d simply desired to pass the time within her business, to—what did he say? To indulge him?
He’d asked her to tell him if there was any chance—a sliver of a chance, as he so aptly put it. There had been no time for her to explain to him that her patronly loyalties were to The Malt House and no other. How could he possibly know that she’d sworn to building her reputation as a fortune teller through the House in partnership with Grayson?
Nothing could make her step foot into The Silver Sliver, not even if the brightest star in the sky had asked for her presence within its walls. As far as she was concerned, their drinks were poison and their patrons were the scum of the city. It didn’t matter to her that the place was located within The Nitrozian Plaza—in fact, it only made it worse. The politics on that side of the Ravok were none that the sybil would ever be privy to, and she knew she would keep it that way. There was no need for her association to that noble family, regardless. Besides, the reality was that she’d sworn to keeping her own business and body within the commoner’s family-friendly beauty of The Malt House, and that was all.
It was too bad that Caspian wouldn’t know any of this. Rohka walked over to the door and stood in front of it, her tail wrapping around the handle. She couldn’t bring herself to open it. If anyone would be seen as the villain in this situation, it would be her, not him. He’d been pulled away with such urgency that it just didn’t seem right to call after him. She brought her hands up to cover her face in his absence, slowly breathing out into warm palms, her eyes closed shut.
The sybil could only hope that she helped him in some way or another. More importantly, she hoped that her craft would have impressed him enough to bring him back, or even enough for him to spread the word about her service. Had she earned his belief in her? Did he believe in his own ability to find that which he was looking for? Would he be chasing it for days to come?
Rohka knew she wouldn’t ask the cards any of these questions.
She knew that she didn’t want to know the answers. Not yet, anyway.
Caspian had thanked her for it all, and she smiled, as she does, in practice, though it would carry an ounce of a brow raise and a glaringly full set of teeth when she hears the words:
'come back with me...'
...but just as fast as the blatant show of excitement was the wrinkle of her nose and the wrath in her eyes when she heard him speak of the Silver Sliver.
It all seemed to happen in less than a tick. A woman dragged him out just as soon as he opened the door. There had been zero hesitation to his response—in fact, he’d gotten up swiftly and left with nothing but a cheeky grin and a wave that seemed more like the passing of the tides than it did the sign of returning.
And yet, she still waved back. Her lips pursed, her gaze following his, watching the swish of his tailored form and pointed shoes carry the essence of his wonder out of The Mystic Eye. The sound of the closing door echoed in her ears as her instinct to explain herself made the sybil stand and walk around her table.
It was as if he knew he needed to leave. As if he’d simply desired to pass the time within her business, to—what did he say? To indulge him?
He’d asked her to tell him if there was any chance—a sliver of a chance, as he so aptly put it. There had been no time for her to explain to him that her patronly loyalties were to The Malt House and no other. How could he possibly know that she’d sworn to building her reputation as a fortune teller through the House in partnership with Grayson?
Nothing could make her step foot into The Silver Sliver, not even if the brightest star in the sky had asked for her presence within its walls. As far as she was concerned, their drinks were poison and their patrons were the scum of the city. It didn’t matter to her that the place was located within The Nitrozian Plaza—in fact, it only made it worse. The politics on that side of the Ravok were none that the sybil would ever be privy to, and she knew she would keep it that way. There was no need for her association to that noble family, regardless. Besides, the reality was that she’d sworn to keeping her own business and body within the commoner’s family-friendly beauty of The Malt House, and that was all.
It was too bad that Caspian wouldn’t know any of this. Rohka walked over to the door and stood in front of it, her tail wrapping around the handle. She couldn’t bring herself to open it. If anyone would be seen as the villain in this situation, it would be her, not him. He’d been pulled away with such urgency that it just didn’t seem right to call after him. She brought her hands up to cover her face in his absence, slowly breathing out into warm palms, her eyes closed shut.
The sybil could only hope that she helped him in some way or another. More importantly, she hoped that her craft would have impressed him enough to bring him back, or even enough for him to spread the word about her service. Had she earned his belief in her? Did he believe in his own ability to find that which he was looking for? Would he be chasing it for days to come?
Rohka knew she wouldn’t ask the cards any of these questions.
She knew that she didn’t want to know the answers. Not yet, anyway.
Boxcode credit to Antipodes
Definitely reach out if there's anything I may have missed.