He knows Sophie has a hot temper; he loves her for it. He knows she's single-minded; he loves her for it. He knows she's got an unflinching desire to be included; he loves her for it. He knows he's the best-equipped at stealth missions. She doesn't love him for that.
Saddened, he walks into the castle, makes his way upstairs to change clothes quickly, and heads back down. He pauses for a very long minute outside the closed (and he assumes locked) door to Sophie's room, feeling a mixture of anger and a great, heavy sorrow.
He doesn't knock at it, however. Instead, he simply turns the castle's front doorknob to red-down, opens it, and walks through. As the lush streets of Kingsbury gleam in the mid-day sunlight, the door closes behind him with a quiet click. Tiny spots of blood seep through the stomach of his white silk shirt as he walks heavily through the streets towards the castle.
no subject
Saddened, he walks into the castle, makes his way upstairs to change clothes quickly, and heads back down. He pauses for a very long minute outside the closed (and he assumes locked) door to Sophie's room, feeling a mixture of anger and a great, heavy sorrow.
He doesn't knock at it, however. Instead, he simply turns the castle's front doorknob to red-down, opens it, and walks through. As the lush streets of Kingsbury gleam in the mid-day sunlight, the door closes behind him with a quiet click. Tiny spots of blood seep through the stomach of his white silk shirt as he walks heavily through the streets towards the castle.
No one dares disturb him.