His words rolled through her mind, the woman not pushing beyond what she had already said, settling for her silence once again. But she felt for him, some of his words echoing within her own soul. I’ll sleep when I am dead. Zephyra knew that sometimes, all a person could do was keep pushing through each day, holding the promise of getting through, and if not, the promise of death wasn’t so bad. But at least you tried with every ounce to get to the next day and take the next breath.

She heard him rise, though her eyes stayed closed. What she had not expected was for him to end up near her, though she wasn’t sure why and didn’t look to find out. But she paid close attention to know where he was, listening to his movements until she realized he was at the fireplace, hearing the wood being added. For the briefest moment, she peered through dark lashes to watch the flames begin to leap up before returning to the darkness the back of her lids offered. But she was grateful for what had been done, noting briefly the water glass sitting on the table.

Zeph could already feel some of the heat coming from the fire and was grateful for it, not paying attention just long enough to be surprised when a warm comforter was draped over her form. It was larger and much warmer than the one from her bed, the woman almost engulfed by its massive size. She shifted, her hand reaching to grasp at it and pull it closer to her chest, tipping her head so her nose pressed into it. Combined with the crackling of the fire, she could almost believe everything was okay.

Stirring briefly from her small make-believe world, light hazel orbs blinked open long enough for her to reach out and grab the glass. She brought the water gingerly to her lips, sipping it, not even realizing how parched she had been. But it was to be expected though she did not take it all in one gulp. Rather she went through it slowly, not looking to turn her feeling of sickness into something more real and uncomfortable. Right now, it was just general, and she hoped to keep it that way and get enough rest for it to disappear.

Setting the empty glass down, she curled into the warmth of the warmer, releasing a soft breath. Zephyra clung to it, almost in a way that looked desperate and protective of herself, the edges having been tucked beneath her as if to ward off anyone who may want to join her beneath. Not that she was worried anyone actually would. She was safe in Solomon’s room, but it was an instinctive gesture as she finally drifted off, the sounds fading around her in lieu of uninterrupted sleep, though not necessarily peaceful.

She did twitch in her sleep, rather often through the night. There would be times where she would seem to relax, body unfurling to stretch out. But it seemed as if there was something within her that the moment she did, she would tense, curling almost instantly in a defensive ball, pressing her face into the comforter she seemed to use as a shield. But her exhaustion was so great that she stayed unconscious, no longer aware of what Solomon did or where he was. If he made noise or moved she wasn’t aware, a dangerous thing for her lifestyle but understandable after the day she had.

It was around dawn that Zephyra actually woke up, light hazel eyes blinking as she gazed around before suddenly jolting with awareness, sitting up. Her grip on the comforter tightened for a moment as she took in her surroundings, slowly relaxing as she remembered she was still in Solomon’s room. And with that memory, she glanced around, finding that he had managed to pass out at his desk, paperwork still filling the surface. And that brought with it some concern. Had he meant to keep her in his room all night? He never had before, sending her off after a couple hours.

The woman untangled herself from the oversized blanket, readjusting her robe and tightening it before she quietly got to her feet. Collecting the cover in her arms, she did her best to silently open it up and fold it. She wasn’t sure if he still wanted her in his room, so her plan was to lay the folded blanket on the bed and leave. It was a rather hard task to do quietly, though with some struggle she managed and hefted it into her arms, putting at the foot of his bed. She started for the door before pausing, moving back to the table to reach for the book, picking it up and flipping it open near the end to where she had left off, scanning it for a moment.

It had been a combination of alcohol and fatigue that had been Solomon’s demise that night. He hadn’t had too many drinks, maybe two or three, but it hadn’t been a bright idea. The man was already beyond fatigued and hadn’t eaten since the morning the day before, so it hadn’t ended well. Not that he had expelled his insides into the toilet. No, the man had never been drunk before and had stayed up to do his paperwork. The reason for the drinking had been his work, which he was spending most of his time drowning in nowadays.

Solomon had glanced over in her direction every now and then, noticing her shift or move in some way. It annoyed his senses, only because he honed in on the littlest of things, but the man didn’t disturb her. It was clear she was asleep and judging by the fact she didn’t wake up, he assumed the woman had been exhausted. As much as he wished he could take some time to sleep, he did not wish to switch places with her. That would just be foolish. The man did leave her alone though, assuming it wouldn’t hurt to leave her there for the night. She wasn’t disturbing him anyways.

So while she slept he worked, the man sipping at his alcohol while he filled out the many documents. Some just required him to look over and sign. Others needed more attention and detail. At some point he removed his swords from his side, depositing them on the dark chest at the end of his bed. His fingers had run through his hair an innumerable amount of times, occasionally running back and forth over the neatly trimmed sides absentmindedly. No one could deny the man's focus and drive. If anyone ever worked themselves to death it would be Solomon.

But unfortunately, the alcohol got to him first. The man was nothing more than tipsy, but as soon as he left a large inky slash over one of his papers he pushed the glass away. He set the quill back into the inkwell, running his hands over his face. For some reason, the man shoved the paper off his desk onto the floor and grabbed the next one in the stack, but before he could even begin to write, he had already begun to doze. Chin in hand, Solomon’s eyes were finally allowed to shut. He promised himself it would only be a few minutes, but at some point, his head ended up pressed against the disregarded paper and all hope of a quick nap was lost.

Solomon wasn’t asleep for very long, eyes cracking open as he heard movement. It was faint but even exhausted the man was fine-tuned to the littlest of things. His gaze flickered to the curtains, which were drawn over the large window, and looked at the light that peaked through. It appeared to be around dawn, which meant the man should probably wake up. If he didn’t he risked oversleeping, as much as he just wanted to rest and let her do whatever she pleased. It wasn’t as if she were going to destroy his room.

But he knew better, even if his head was pounding. For a moment, he only rubbed his fingers against his temples. Then, he wordlessly rose, taking his half-full glass of alcohol with him to the bathroom. It was there he dumped it into the sink and refilled it with water, downing the substance. Glancing in the mirror, he noticed briefly he looked like hell, much like how he felt. Although his feelings were disregarded as he re-emerged and returned to his stack of papers, which was much more unorganized than he remembered.

“You can take those two novels with you when you return to your room if you have taken an interest in them,” Solomon offered as he began to separate his now messy stack. The man had a feeling her room was barren of entertainment, not to mention it would solidify his story with his brothers. “Just bring them with you when I fetch you next.” He instructed, picking up the paper he had thrown on the floor last night before he slept. Well, in all honesty, it was more like a nap, given as he could have only been unconscious for a few hours at most.

Solomon stalked over to the wall near his door, tugging on a chain within the wall. It was to summon a servant to his room, a feature that every prince's room had to offer. He waited a few minutes, leaning against the door with his arms crossed over his chest while fingers drummed against his biceps. Soon enough there was a knock and the man was greeted by a young servant. “Good morning, Master Solomon, how may I assist you today?” The woman questioned, beaming up at him.

“Greetings Marietta, it has been a while,” Solomon spoke, visibly relaxing. The two were… somewhat friends, if you could even consider them that. The general wasn’t exactly the type to get close to people. She was only a couple of years older than him and had always been overly friendly, even with the giant man being so intimidating, “I am sure Attikos will be pleased to see you’re doing well,” He told her, though as always, he wasn’t one for small talk and got straight to the point, “I am in need of a meal this morning before I head off to the barracks. Do you think you could have one here quickly?”

Was Solomon really ordering for himself? No. He wasn’t feeling well enough to eat that morning. It was for the woman he had left by the couch, though he hadn’t said so. “And I would like a pastry dropped off at Ryia’s quarters later this morning. The flaky, chocolate-filled one, as well as some tea. Her favorite is that white blend from southern Briar Glenn, though I’m not sure what it’s called.” He admitted, scratching at the stubble that had begun to grow on his jaw. Apparently, shaving was going to be added to his morning list. “But that will be all.”

And with that the woman said her brief goodbyes and was dismissed, leaving him to his guest. “Your food will arrive shortly. Marietta tends to work quickly.” Solomon informed her as he opened his wardrobe, picking out a nearly identical set of clothes to what he wore at the moment and snatching his crimson jacket off the back of his desk chair. He disappeared into the bathroom to change, switching into a new set of clothes and shrugging his jacket over his shoulders, buttoning it. He also took the time to shave and do his hair, so when he remerged, the man looked a little less like a monster who hid under children’s beds and more like a prince.

As he set his dirty clothes on a little table by the door to be collected later, Marietta returned with a large tray in hand, piled with enough food to probably feed a bear. Or in this case, the hulking, brutish Solomon. Except, it wasn’t meant for him. The woman grabbed his clothes while she was there and yet again she shared a cheery goodbye. Solomon stalked over to the coffee table in front of the couch and set the mini-feast down for the woman. “Here,” The man gestured to the tray, “This is for you. You may return to your quarters when you are finished and do not feel obligated to eat it all if you cannot. I don’t need to be hounded by my siblings if you grow sick.” Solomon told her, returning to his desk to resume his paperwork.

Zephyra looked up the moment he stirred, watching him as he stood and walked to the bathroom. Now that he was awake, she didn’t want to do anything unless he asked it of her, so she kept her place, quietly waiting with the book still in hand. He really did seem exhausted, the woman’s head tilting as her gaze landed on the desk, though from where she was, she couldn’t see what any of it was. Was it like the work her father used to have to do? She didn’t know, nor did she dare go over to find out.

When he emerged, his offer took her aback some and her eyes fell to the book in her hand and the one on the table. “Thank you, I will be sure to bring them back in perfect condition,” came her soft response as she gently closed the one she held, pulling it a little closer. There was a good chance, she believed, Solomon would never know how much it meant to her. Perhaps it seemed a small offer to him, but to her it meant everything. Instead of those moments sitting alone, just waiting to find out what was to happen next, she could escape in her mind for a little while.

Zeph continued to watch him, waiting to hear what she was to do, but he seemed occupied for the moment. She moved back to the sofa, slowly sitting down and placing the book beside her. As was her custom, she pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, her chin resting on top. Her hazel gaze watched as a maid came to his ring, a cheery woman who caused the younger female to smile. It felt like ages since she had seen such a happy face and bright attitude. Perhaps one day she would be able to talk to her?

The woman discarded the idea rather quickly, having a feeling that most wouldn’t have an interest in socializing with her. Her ‘friends’ never went beyond male comradery sine her capture, and she doubted there would be any others interested in befriending someone like herself. Instead, she decided to note how Solomon ordered from someone else. Hadn’t one of the brothers mentioned her? Their sister. At least, that’s what she believed; it was hard to remember some of the things said when she entertained the others. But either way, she found it a kind gesture.

But what hit Zephyra was when he told her that her food would be arriving shortly. Hadn’t he ordered for himself though? Her head lifted, confused by what he said but Solomon did not linger or offer her an explanation, simply taking his clothes and disappearing into the bathroom. She was truly stunned knowing that anything brought for him, would be much more than anything she received. Which also reminded her that she hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours, causing her to drop her defensive position, feet touching the ground. And she was starving.

The moment Marietta returned and Solomon took the tray, her eyes lit up though she kept her expression reserved trying to act as though this wasn’t the highlight of her week. Rather, it was more like the highlight of the last six months. It was the most food she had been offered since she had been home so long ago and now she was being offered a feast. “Thank you. Thank you so much,” Zeph spoke from her heart, not minding the last sentence he had said, smiling even in her eyes at him.

In an act more to her nature, she slid off the edge of the sofa, sitting cross-legged on the cool floor and moving over to the table. Reaching up to her hair, she pushed some of her chestnut strands behind her ear, grabbing the fork and taking a bite of the food. It was the most glorious thing she had tasted and she continued to work on it, perhaps faster than she intended. Not that she wasn’t still careful, being sure to only eat as much as her stomach would allow. It was less than she would have liked, but she had been trained to only take so much and she didn’t want Solomon to get heat for his kindness.

Even though she had finished as much as she could, she lingered for a bit, pushing the food around on the plate some before finally standing. Zephyra knew she could only hide for so long and the prince had things he needed to do. Slowly she stood, taking the books in her arms as she did so. “I’m sorry I couldn’t eat more,” she apologized softly, despite his statement that she was not obligated to eat more than she could. “It was very generous and I appreciate it deeply. I haven’t eaten... that much in a while.”

The woman had been about to tell him she hadn’t eaten since before yesterday but changed her mind. Solomon undoubtedly did not care and probably would not appreciate any complaints, even if it was not meant that way. “I’ll keep your books in good condition,” she quickly added before moving to the door, pausing before gingerly opening it. There was some hesitation as she seemed to be checking the hall before she finally left, relieved to see none of the brothers lurking.

For now at least.

For Zephyra, the day hadn’t been too bad comparatively to some days. Josef had been busy and Heinrey had been away to places she did not care to know. Which left her to Ascalo and Cyrus. The woman had grown accustomed to their ways, and at the end of the day, they were just boys trying to be men. She could handle that, and therefore today was mentally catalogued as one of the better days. The twins had their times where they could be a bit much, but that was not the case this time around.

As it was, changing into the slit skirt and the rather tight top, her gaze landed on Cyrus who was stretched across his bed, arm across his eyes. She knew better than to think he was already sleeping, no doubt watching her from beneath his arm and slit lids. But he had asked her to leave now that he was tired and finished. As if to test her theory, she sent a soft smile in his direction, earning a satisfied grin in return to prove what she thought.

Walking over to the lounging figure, she reached out to brush her fingers against his arm before leaning to press a kiss to his forehead. Had he not responded, she would have simply left so as not to disturb him. Zeph honestly would have preferred that but time had taught her that Cyrus liked a small amount of fond attention before she left, as if she were truly grateful for his attentions and time. She did it for no more than to appease him and to avoid the youth coming back with reckless vengeance to ‘prove’ himself. But even with all her patience and submissive nature, she could not deny it was her who was dolling out her time, affections, and entire being without reserve. Not that she had a choice.

Cyrus let out a hum of acceptance before waving his hand towards the door. The woman gladly took the point and moved towards the door, pulling it open and slipping out. The hallway was dark except for the light from a few sconces, giving the woman hope that perhaps tonight she could get away with sleeping on her own. Not that she wanted to use the bed considering the many connotations. That and she had been known to be woken up in it by one of the brothers. She had come to taking up her chair instead, the awakenings much less rude and it just felt... more rest worthy.

All was silent as Zephyra moved with ease down the hallway, familiar with each door simply by where it was. She didn’t need to see the symbol to know who lived in which one having visited them all enough times. But at least for a little bit, she was feeling secure knowing that she might get a break and maybe some time to sleep and finish the second book Solomon had given her to read. A good thing to add to her list for today. Until she heard him.

“WERE’S DA WHORE? I wanna get me time wit da whore toonight... see a gud time bettar den dem damned girlz out der...”

Zeph stopped cold in her tracks, able to hear the yelling and slurred speech of Heinrey coming towards the wing. Now she knew where the prince had been all day... clearly drinking and spending it at the Menagerie as she had heard the name come up a few times and figured out what it was. And now it seemed he hadn’t had a good time and was looking to make that up... using her.

It struck fear within her. A sober Heinrey was dangerous... a drunk one? The woman didn’t want to find out and see if her suspicions were correct which meant she had to be busy with someone. She paused for only a moment before heading straight for Solomon’s door. While she could have gone to the others, she knew the twins would probably turn her out considering they had had their day, but there would be questions as to why. And the only way to find a place to stay was by explaining... in which case they would find it funny and take her to Heinrey themselves, or share the information later, only to have Heinrey seek her out at another date. Josef was also out of the question. If the man was as tired as he seemed, she doubted he would appreciate the disturbance or exact something out of her in return... and he too would want the real answer considering she never sought out attention on her own. That and she knew he was smart enough to connect his brother’s drunk yelling with her sudden attention. And again, no guarantee the information wouldn’t get back to the raging drunk man.

And that left Solomon. She had no interest in abusing his kindness but a few things she did know... he was ALWAYS awake at this time and NEVER shared anything that went on in his room. Nor did he expect anything in return. And that was what brought her hand up to the wood of his door, rapping against it as softly yet urgently as possible. If she was caught in the hall before Solomon could grab her, it would be too late. “Solomon, it’s Zephyra...” she called out so he would know who it was at least.

The moment the door started to open, she did not wait to explain before slipping in. Better to face Solomon in his room uninvited than Heinrey in the hallway and it be too late. One look at him, however, told her that she had been wrong thinking he would be awake. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, gaze falling to the floor in a manner that if one didn’t know her occupation, would think was from shyness or embarrassment. In truth, it was in respect. “But...”

She was cut off by another incoherent shout coming from the hallway as Heinrey finally made his way into the wing. Zeph gave a barely visible flinch before continuing, “I thought you would be awake and I hoped perhaps tonight you could offer me sanctuary.” Her voice seemed to trail off at the end, suddenly aware of how needy that sounded and the fact that she was practically begging the prince, though in as dignified a manner as she could manage.

Light hazel eyes glanced around before landing on the desk still full of papers. “Let me offer you something in return m’lord,” she suddenly offered, looking back to him determined to at least do something to both convince him to let her stay and truly make up for her disturbance. “I can assist you with your papers if you will allow it. I can write well and know some of military papers. I used to help... I have some experience.”

Solomon had been asleep for a while, the man curled tightly beneath the covers as fingers fisted around the fabric as if he sought the comfort the blankets had to offer. One would find it odd that the giant general slept in such a defensive way, yet one could not forget he had seen and survived war. He was a man who loved his job but still had a body crisscrossed in scars, big and small. He had slept through Heinrey’s yelling, but it had not gone without a visible shudder in his slumber, an acknowledgment that the sound had startled him, but wasn’t enough to rouse him.

Yet, at the soft knock at the door, his eyes snapped open and darted towards it, narrowing. Zephyra. He could hear her voice, though it was soft and hardly intelligible. A low growl emitted from him, irritated at being interrupted and he had half a mind not to answer. What the hell was she doing disturbing him? The one night he was going to get ample sleep and he was being woken up. Solomon waited a few seconds before he finally slipped to his feet, snagging the robe and shrugging it over his shoulders to at least be somewhat decent, though the front remained open.

A hand came up to scratch at the scar that came up his neck and touched his jaw as he approached the door, opening it with what could best be described as a stormy look. But before he could demand what she was thinking disturbing him at such a late hour, she shoved past him and into his room. Solomon released another warning growl, crossing his arms over his chest and cocking a brow, silently demanding an explanation. Her apology received narrowed eyes and it was aware that was not enough. Unfortunately, his emotions were rather mixed when it came to her and at the moment, they were none too kind.

Although Heinrey’s voice came again, which was an explanation enough. Even so, Solomon did let her speak and shut the door, the lock clicking into place. And it was only, only because he could respect courage. Granted, he still didn’t respect her much, but he was the type that believed bravery was admirable, so he figured he could offer her the safety she desired. Heinrey wouldn’t dare bang on Solomon’s door lest he desires castration, so the woman would be safe for the time being. Well, it depended on one's definition of “safe”.

“Unfortunately, I was not awake tonight,” Solomon spoke, breaking his silence. The rumpled bedsheets and tired, groggy eyes were a testament to his words. Not to mention his informal attire, which mimicked the pants and thick sash he had worn earlier. The man may have been covered up to the bottom of his waist, but typically he wasn’t caught dead looking anything less than immaculate, “But you may stay. Let’s just not make this a habit, shall we? I do like to sleep occasionally.” One could have seen his final statement as a joke, but you just couldn’t tell with the stone-faced prince.

Eyes flickered over to the mentioned paperwork and for a moment, there was an internal debate. Solomon had made a dent, but there was still much to do. He may not have been exactly comfortable allowing her assistance, but he figured there were some rather trivial things that could be done. He pondered for a moment, again scratching at the scar that ran up his neck, before walking over to his desk. “Yes… I do suppose you are the daughter of Damascus Tambrolin.” He acknowledged and Solomon was aware he was probably the only sibling who was aware of who she was.

He began to leaf through the papers and pull out some of the ones she could do. “So your minimal experience should be sufficient enough for some of the more basic papers.” It wasn’t an insult but was more of an issue of trust on his end. If something went wrong in the papers it would be on his shoulders, knowing he would never admit to having her assistance. Solomon would be ridiculed. After a few minutes of sorting he had a small stack for you, the man tossing it down onto his war table and setting his quill and inkwell beside it.

“There are some things you can do,” He spoke as he approached the fireplace, beginning the usual fire. A blanket had already been left on the couch for her, as it tended to be her usual haunt. Some more hollering could be heard down the hall from his brother, who slammed her door before returning to his room and slamming his own, rattling the walls in his drunken stupor. “How crass.” Solomon murmured, straightening as the flames began, “And do not feel obligated to do the work or finish it, you may sleep when you wish. I am not the type to force others to do my job.” He told her, stretching his arms above his head and yawning.

“Now, feel free to do those wherever if you choose to and you have reign of the bookshelf. I have spent the day dueling and want to rest,” He glanced briefly at his swords, which were discarded on the dark chest, still in their sheaths, “Per usual, you are to entertain yourself. I’ll have a meal ordered for you in the morning since the staff has gone to bed.” Solomon approached his bed, running his fingers through his hair before the robe was again discarded, the man slipping beneath the covers once more. He kept his back to her as his body instinctively curled into his defensive position and desperately tried to pretend it wasn’t awkward.

Solomon slept soundly with no disturbances, though he did twitch here and there at the idle sounds the woman made. Still, it was no more than that. In all honesty, it was probably the most he had slept in a long time, given as he never slept a full night's sleep when he was away and hadn’t since he was home. It was astonishing he hadn’t collapsed from his exhaustion, given his job was both physically strenuous and mentally taxing. Then again, his incredible success hadn’t come without the price he had paid in the commodity of sleep.

So when he finally stirred, it was done slowly. The man uncurled from his ball and his fingers released their death grip on the comforter, Solomon shifting to lay on his stomach and pressing his face into the pillow, willing himself not to get up just yet rather childishly. His body was protesting for a longer period of rest, given as it had been deprived for so long, but as his head turned to glance through the black, sheer curtains that surrounded his bed, he could tell it was time for him to get up and start his day judging by the light filtering in.

As unfortunate as it seemed at that moment, Solomon had obligations. He slid off of his bed, ignoring her momentarily as he grabbed a new set of clothes and headed to the bathroom, sliding into his usual uniform of deep red, omitting the sash that he usually wore over his shoulder because it would only get in the way with today's work. He would be doing more training with his men, something he actually liked, though he had to take shifts with Brom, given planning still needed to happen. Even so, it was better than spending his entire day cooped up in the barracks.

Solomon exited the bathroom after several minutes, having shaved and done his hair per usual, not that his hair could ever really be qualified as messy anyways. The man kept it rather short. Again he summoned a servant to his room by tugging on the rope, the ever-friendly face of Marietta appearing. They spoke back and forth for a few moments before she scurried off to fetch Solomon’s meal, which was really to be given to the woman who he had caught sitting on the floor near the fireplace. At last, he walked over in her direction, bare feet making soft sounds against the tile.

It seemed as if she had been rather focused, which was somewhat shocking on his part, given the man had never considered she would have any sort of work ethic. Then again, he hadn’t considered anything about her, given as he knew nothing more of her name and former status. Although, it seemed now that this was something she enjoyed and for a moment, he simply watched. Before his staring could be caught or considered awkward, Solomon bent to pick up the papers she had finished, which was surprisingly all but a couple.

Leafing through them, he found that they were done rather immaculately. No errors whatsoever and it was clear it had been a rather easy job, given that he assumed she had slept. Perhaps the man had underestimated her intelligence and with that brought a new curiosity. “It seems your background did come to be of use. These are satisfactory.” Solomon spoke, glancing at the woman. For many, it would have seemed like a comment that expressed some sort of disappointment in the outcome, but it was not so. For the general, it was the equivalent of telling someone they had done well or that their work was a good one. Solomon just wasn’t the type for compliments.

He walked over to his desk to deposit the papers in the completed stack, which he would take down to have mailed that morning. It was then there was a knock on the door and the meal arrived, which Solomon set on the coffee table in front of the couch for the woman. At this point, ordering her the larger meal was just another usual behavior on the prince’s end. It was yet another addition to the things he did that would almost be considered nice if the situation was a different one. “Here is your meal,” Solomon spoke curtly, walking away as he always did.

The silences had grown more comfortable, but they were still awkward. They spent large chunks of time together, yet never really socialized, given Solomon’s hard views and the fact she probably didn’t mind his standoffish nature. But despite his general dislike of her existence, his eyes still caught sight of the key resting on his nightstand as he went to make his bed. And once more, despite his better judgment and character, the man did something he probably wouldn’t have done for most of the people he had come across.

The key was set on the coffee table before her, the man remaining silent for a few moments as he attempted to locate words. Solomon understood why and what he was doing, but how to explain it? He was never the type who had a way with words and it was perhaps one of the reasons for his inherent quietness. “It is the key to this room,” Solomon spoke, settling on that beginning, “Use it when you need to, such as a situation like last night’s. I am not the type for torture, even if I never wanted you here. You are still a human.”

He walked away from her, approaching the spot where his swords lay to tie them around his waist. Fingers brushed over the cool golden handles for a few seconds before he approached his desk, organizing several of the things he would need for the day.”There is that and I would prefer not to be disturbed again, whether I am working or resting. So I suppose this is an outcome that can satisfy us both.” Solomon commented, glancing in her direction, “Just do not make it an excessive habit.”

Continuing to work even as Solmon moved around, the woman found herself happily absorbed in what she was doing. Light hazel eyes glowed softly as each stroke of the quill made the proper words, filling everything out with experience and gratitude. One more paper was added to the pile before she heard him come out and ring for a servant. A soft smile played at her features, the young woman showing some of her true colors in the safety of the prince’s room, though he had yet to hear the wise voice that used to speak often.

Zephrya heard as the man walked over to her before there was a long pause on his end. She never stopped her own work as he did so, not sure what he was doing but not really minding. When he did speak, his words caused her to turn her head, her smile widening a bit more. Satisfactory meant she hadn’t messed up and she had saved him time. It was the least she could do, and the truth was, it brought her comfort she had not expected. The simple act of filling out paperwork and she could feel as though she were home. “Thank you m’lord.”

Her attention fell back to finishing the last two pages for him, only briefly glancing up when the meal was brought in and placed for her. She quickly finished the last of the documents and collected the few pages, placing them at the end of the table. Scooting over to her food, she picked up the fork and began eating. Her appetite had grown and become more well-rounded thanks to his generosity and she had begun to fill out to a more natural weight. Which actually worked out better for the brother since her curves were more natural. And as per usual she enjoyed the meals brought but then again, they were meant to be for a prince. For Solomon to be exact, which caused her to pause for a moment. If he ordered food as if for himself and gave it to her, what did he eat?

Not that she even had time to linger on that question before another came to mind in the form of a key. She blinked before tilting her head to look at him, confusion painted across her features. Why was he giving her a key? Her eyes widened when he told her what it was for before her gaze fell. Yes, she was well aware her presence was unwanted... but she did appreciate him because he did see her as human. Better to be disliked and human that sought after and no more than an item for pleasure.

It was only when he started to walk away that she dared look at the small treasure, reaching for it and grasping it with slender fingers. Her hand tightened around it and she pulled it close to her heart, head hanging for a moment. It was another impactful gesture by the prince, though he never seemed to notice how much the little things affected her. Then again, she supposed only someone in her shoes would truly understand what these things meant. Only someone who was used as she was would know what these things meant. Nights of rest... full meals... and now a key to a safe haven to escape when things got bad... Could she really want more?

“I will not abuse this gift,” Zephyra reassured him, still holding the small item. And she did not release it, not even to let it rest on the table while she continued eating. Instead, she kept it in her left hand and ate with her right. No, she would pick and choose the times very wisely for fear of losing the privilege that one day could possibly save her life. Maybe. But it was a sense of security, even if it could be considered false.

The woman ate quite a bit though did not finish the food. She never did as it was meant for a full-grown man, but she had enough to fill her and make her feel whole for a while. In fact, the whole experience had been rather therapeutic really. For now at least. Again, something the prince may never understand. And while he hated her and she knew it, Zeph would always be grateful and like him as a human... at least for the generosity she had been shown. None of the others had even thought of anything for her, only what she could give them.

Standing, she picked up the finished papers from the table and brought them over to him, extending her arm with the final product for him to take. “Next time you call for me, if there are any more you would like done, I will gladly complete them,” Zephyra explained, rather hoping he would because she enjoyed the work. It made her feel more human. “And m’lord, if you don’t mind my asking, if I am eating your meals, what do you receive? I can wait for what is offered me when I return to my room. You need it more than I do... because of how much you work.”

The woman took a small step back, gaze falling to the ground as she finished her concerned statement. She at least wanted to know that he was getting something else to eat. If not... if not Zeph would kindly turn away the food offered her. She had gotten along without it before and she could not fathom the idea of taking his food from him. Especially after all he had been doing for her.

All Solomon gave was a curt nod as she told him she would overuse the room key, which he had figured she wouldn’t in the first place. From what the man had observed so far, she wasn’t ignorant. No, it was clear she was intelligent, though how far that went he wasn’t sure. But he did know she wouldn’t be bold enough to step on his toes, for fear of the wrath the third son was often known to have. So it was on that basis that Solomon trusted her with the item, even if he would have to stop off and retrieve another key from a servant that afternoon.

There was silence while she ate and he prepared for his day, filling out a few more papers to add to his stack so he could be comfortable when he returned that night. Hopefully, the man would have some more time to tackle the stack, which was quickly becoming infuriating to him, but he kept his rather calm persona. At this point, half the things coming in for him were simply tedious, things his other generals didn’t want to do and that was angering. He had respect for the men he worked with, but clearly they were not holding the same respect for the crown.

Which was why Solomon was sending a nice stack back to them, with a rather pointed note to go with it. Such things would have never happened if the prince were there because his presence was far too intimidating. Unfortunately, he had to establish his dominance from home, rather than having a meeting with them. Solomon was not the type to have his title overlooked and become some sort of lapdog, especially when he was the reason Bercasitt had fallen into their hands in the first place. His fellow generals could do their own work.

His gaze turned as she approached him, taking the papers from her hand. Solomon looked them over, muttering an “adequate” before putting them in their designated spots in the stack. Yes, the general would certainly slip a couple more complicated pieces in her stack next time, just to test the waters and satisfy his own inner curiosities. Solomon may not have liked the woman, but there had been something about that morning that had piqued his interest in her. Well, it was more about what the woman was hiding. She had been the daughter of a respected general and that only left him curious.

“Yes…” Solomon trailed, lifting the papers and placing them in a small crate, “There will probably be more for you to complete as I can use the assistance.” His pride was not injured by the statement, as it was simply a face. He would not overwhelm her with paperwork, as she was not a soldier nor was she an assistant, but just a little bit less on his plate was a welcome addition. “Although there should be less after today… but some are just too simple for me to waste time on.” He commented offhandedly, though paused in moving around his desk to face her again at the inquiry.

She was concerned? About when he ate? Solomon was rather shocked and found it hard to keep a blank face. Although, he did stare at her blankly for a moment, which was a testament to how stunned he was. He just didn’t understand it and her question confused him, only because it just about seemed like she cared. Granted, that wasn’t the truth and Solomon’s opinions would change even if she did, but it was still a little off-putting. “If you must know, I never ate in the mornings on the field unless it was the only meal I was promised for the day.” He explained, scratching at his scar.

“My regiment tended to eat later... midday, and at night. The habit has just stuck I suppose, so you are fine eating in here.” Solomon spoke, crossing his arms over his chest as he often did, “And it is not your prerogative to worry about my health. I am aware I spend all of my time consumed with military ordeals, but such is fate and it is an honor to serve my father and the empire I have helped him build.” It could have been taken as a defensive comment, but it was spoken in a pure matter-of-fact tone. Not that Solomon ever put much tone into his words.

“What you should be concerned about is your health. I am simply one of your masters, nothing more and certainly not a person for you to spare concern for.” He told her, hoisting the crate into his arms and heading towards the door. His swords thumped at his sides, which would be rather annoying to the wearer if he wasn’t accustomed to it. “Now, if there are no more questions for you to ask me, I should be off to work and you to your quarters for the day. If I am back at an earlier time, I may fetch you for the night.” Solomon opened the door, propping it open with his foot, “And grab another novel if you need or want one.”