Please have mercy

Purity

When she woke up, greeted by a cold bedroom and pure silence, she turned halfway, her hand reaching out next to her only to find that he was already gone.

His side of the bed had been remade as if he had never been there, tucked and pressed back neatly. She couldn't imagine him making his own bed, the task sounding too mundane and a waste of time to be worth doing so early in the morning, especially since she had still been asleep and would properly mess up the covers again.

She did the same as she stood, just as she had been doing in the past few weeks, erasing traces of herself to make the room appear untouched, similar to what it had been before she had arrived.

He wasn't exactly tidy, per se, he simply lived in a constant sort of organized mess with his very few personal items placed in strategic spots where they never moved. He didn't like drawers, apparently, preferring everything to be on display and on hand at all times. He rarely left things scattered around in the room and seemed to like the unchanging nature of his room. By mimicking how he was acting, she was saving herself from further accidents or missteps that could lead him to be displeased with her. He had already almost given up his room to share with a forced arrangement , she didn't want to become a nuisance on top of that.

She winced at the cold tiles under her feet, regretting not having brought any socks to keep on hand in the room. She quickly remade the bed on her side before skipping over onto the only carpet in the room laid out under the couch, requesting for Numa on the little door pad.

She wrapped one of his capes around her shoulders, still not having found any surplus blankets and certain he would not want her to drag the bed covers all around the floor. The cape was a lot heavier than it looked, the thick woven fabric isolated her against the cold as she bundled up in it. It hung all the way to the floor, too long for her height, puddling at her feet as she tried to warm herself before she had to face the cold again when she would have to change.

The door slid open and she saw Ushar peek in, staying near the doorway. Even if she couldn't discern his features, she knew he was oddly amused at seeing her in the massive black cloak. She waved at him to invite him in but he didn't.

"Gift." That was the only thing he said before disappearing in the hall again and pulling in a massive crate on wheels.

It looked like a wide wardrobe cabinet, with two opening panels made out of crafted wood. She opened one of them, peaking inside, seeing a carefully assembled loom sitting in it, the machine the size of a small piano, with many pedals, ready for yarn.

"Already?" she whispered, shocked at how little time it took for him to find such an unusual piece, their uses almost forgotten by the majority.

"Where?" Ushar asked, the translator of his mask dragging on the end of the words.

"Oh, maybe the boudoir," she replied, thinking it would be better for such a distracting object to be separated from his room, clashing with the minimalistic décor.

"He said here."

She knew who he referred to, getting the implication that her choice in placement did not extend further than the limits of his quarters.

"Then there," she pointed at a far empty corner against a wall, deciding that it wouldn't be a disturbance if it was out of the way. "Thank you."

While the knight wheeled it into the designed corner, she pondered on why he would insist to have her loom in here, rather than in her room, where all her other girl things were. Perhaps, she hypothesized, he wanted to see what she would make without having to ask for it.