[It's something of a relief - or, to be more precise, entirely too much of a relief - when Serenity starts speaking of business, of the politics of the court, what has been happening and what days they each remember last. This is something familiar and easy, and Csevet slips into it as easily as a fish slips into water. He can see Maia's relief when Csevet explains that he hasn't been missing at all, despite the last days in court they both remember being different days entirely.
As Serenity explains what they were told about the portal and it returning them home, Csevet nods with understanding, his eyes locked on Maia's dark face, his pale grey eyes as he speaks. Attentive. Truly, he understands the concept Serenity is explaining, but would never think to interrupt to agree.
And so, because he is intent on watching his Emperor's expression while he speaks, he immediately sees when Maia's eyes light up, his whole expression lifting, his ears rising with alertness, excitement, as he launches into an explanation of a wonder tale, and something about that moment makes his stomach seem to flop over with an emotion he's not sure how to name. Fondness, perhaps, but moreso.
Cheeks still pink, he nods again as Csevet explains, and exhales a soft noise that's halfway between a laugh and a gasp, his eyes widening slightly, his own ears lifting with interest. It's not a wonder tale he's heard, and perhaps a bit childish. But the truth is that Csevet had never had much of a childhood, and hadn't heard many wonder tales - the stories he's heard have generally been either stories more crass, told around the campfires of the couriers, or whispered half-true bits of gossip that he's bartered like coins to aid Serenity as best he can.
As Maia finishes his story and the waiter comes by, Csevet can see his painful discomfort and embarrassment. As always, Csevet steps in gracefully, drawing attention to himself so Serenity can collect himself, offering a soft smile to the waiter, lashes dipping slightly.]
What is it you would recommend? We must admit to being less than familiar with the cuisine of this place.
[It's soft, polite, and Csevet engages with the waiter for a few moments before glancing over at Serenity to see if he wishes to be ordered for or to choose for himself, now that the moment of discomfort has passed.]
no subject
As Serenity explains what they were told about the portal and it returning them home, Csevet nods with understanding, his eyes locked on Maia's dark face, his pale grey eyes as he speaks. Attentive. Truly, he understands the concept Serenity is explaining, but would never think to interrupt to agree.
And so, because he is intent on watching his Emperor's expression while he speaks, he immediately sees when Maia's eyes light up, his whole expression lifting, his ears rising with alertness, excitement, as he launches into an explanation of a wonder tale, and something about that moment makes his stomach seem to flop over with an emotion he's not sure how to name. Fondness, perhaps, but moreso.
Cheeks still pink, he nods again as Csevet explains, and exhales a soft noise that's halfway between a laugh and a gasp, his eyes widening slightly, his own ears lifting with interest. It's not a wonder tale he's heard, and perhaps a bit childish. But the truth is that Csevet had never had much of a childhood, and hadn't heard many wonder tales - the stories he's heard have generally been either stories more crass, told around the campfires of the couriers, or whispered half-true bits of gossip that he's bartered like coins to aid Serenity as best he can.
As Maia finishes his story and the waiter comes by, Csevet can see his painful discomfort and embarrassment. As always, Csevet steps in gracefully, drawing attention to himself so Serenity can collect himself, offering a soft smile to the waiter, lashes dipping slightly.]
What is it you would recommend? We must admit to being less than familiar with the cuisine of this place.
[It's soft, polite, and Csevet engages with the waiter for a few moments before glancing over at Serenity to see if he wishes to be ordered for or to choose for himself, now that the moment of discomfort has passed.]