-The Capital-
-Celestial Realm-
Cirion took the rag off with a devious smile, gold eyes twinkling, "So you were worried about me."
Nerae turned away with a scoff, "I merely don't want to be thrown in jail."
"I'll never allow that," Cirion replied in a tone far too severe for the odd banter they often had.
Nerae fell silent, looking away to hide the loathing in his eyes. He only spoke when he was certain his true thoughts were hidden from his voice, "Bring in wood for the oven," He waved dismissively, wishing Prince Cirion didn't randomly blurt things that upset the pretense he spun around them.
Cirion obeyed him easily, an act that stumped Nerae every time because… why?
"Did I overstep?" He asked as he crouched to stack up the wood.
"You didn't, stop talking about it." Nerae dismissed the topic.
