Lumina

15 ~ A deal

Maizie

Heart thundering with each pace made back and forth, Maizie hadn't even heard Sir Lockhelm enter her foyer, or the servant knocking at her bedroom doors to notify her as much. It was only when Maizie's anxiety broke her confidence and she left to send a page to tell Landon nevermind did she realize he was already there.

By slamming right into him.

Maizie crashed back, maintaining her balance only by grabbing the door for stability. She couldn't help but stand in a momentary daze that she had bounced off of him, the Captain's stance was so firm.

"Nice save. It seems the lessons are beginning to pay off," he said by way of greeting.

Any and all cognizance fled Maizie at the sight of that bright smile and coal-dark hair shining in front of her, emphasized by the green tunic he wore- the brightest shade she'd seen him in yet. His fire roamed along her body, and she found herself basking in that attention- if just a little bit.

"Princess?"

"Forgive me, I must have lost my mind."

"Seems you've found it." He smiled, and by the Gods she lost it all over again. He cleared his throat, "You summoned me?"

"I hope you were not too busy?"

Lockhelm smiled again in response. Maizie got the sense that he was, in fact, busy but was far too polite to admit. She forced her words to be straight to the point, using her last shred of resolve before it disappeared. "I have a delicate favor to ask of you."

His eyes swirled with curiosity and Maizie dared a step forward, closing her bedroom doors behind her- as much for privacy as to ensure the Captain couldn't see the absolute mess her room had become in the hour leading to his arrival (and her realization of such). In a fit of absentmindedness, Maizie had resorted to flinging gowns on the floor just to see the side-by-side comparisons about what would look best for this simple meeting. This terrifying meeting.

Oh, she really hadn't thought this through. So many things could go wrong if she even misspoke one word.

Trying not to pay attention to the shrinking proximity between the two, Maizie pushed her gaze past Landon to the doors leading to the hallway ensuring that they, too, were closed.

"Now I'm very interested." He leaned forward until their faces were mere inches apart.

"I-," she swallowed and saw his eyes flicker to her throat, her chin, her lips- and thrust the parchment between them, shunning her mind of any other thoughts, "-I need your help."

Slowly, Lockhelm looked down to the item between their bodies- so close she could feel the heat from his breath.

She could have sworn it hitched.

His voice revealed nothing, "Where did you find this?" The parchment let out a soft crinkle as his fingers tightened ever so minutely around it, his attention rapt on the writings.

"I need to translate it," Maizie continued, ignoring his question. "But it's not exactly an approved language and therefore I never learned Yaran, so. . ." she trailed off, her throat tightening at what she was about to ask. Who she was about to ask.

He carefully pulled the parchment from her grasp and stepped back to look at it. "I can't," he answered finally, "I don't know Yaran, let alone which form this is. But if you let me-"

Her face fell, "There are different forms?" No texts had ever mentioned that.

"Well, the modern Yarans on this continent use a different system of hieroglyphics than-" Lockhelm paused, considering his words, "it's a long explanation. Different from the ancient Yarans, in short."