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Saeryn smiled to see the girl clean and dressed. Her eyes carried a question and unwittingly, Saeryn answered it. "You look very pretty. The color becomes you." She glanced inside for a moment, eyes sweeping the room undetectably. She sighed with relief that her revealing gown was not in sight. The girl had not detected it. It had been foolish to allow a stranger, no matter how much she trusted the mysterious girl, to come so close to her. Though those who had been at the Inn when she arrived tired and hungry some days before had found out her story... or at least parts, she interrupted herself... it would not do to leave a clear and public trail for anyone to follow who would. Especially this half-forgotten brother that Degas insisted was of importance. Where was Degas anyhow?
Saeryn looked at the girl who stood patiently before her. Her fingers itched to style her hair but she was afraid that the suggestion, though entirely selfish, would be taken as an insult rather than a request. As children, Saeryn and Caeli never grew tired of elaborately braiding each other's tresses into styles that served no point or purpose besides looking pretty. It had been years since Saeryn had seen her only sister. Her eyes grew wet at the thought that she would never see her again. Ignoring her own emotions as well as she could, she spoke again.
"Would you like to join those barbarions" she smiled, indicating the jest, "in the hall? Or would you like to head to the kitchens? I dare say it would be quieter in the kitchens, but I'm sure it would be far more interesting that way." She cocked her head toward the great hall in a way entirely reminiscent of a dog who's just caught the quiet scratching gate of a cat on the winds. Æòelhild giggled and Saeryn smiled.
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