“I can do with a couch,” Finley said, leaning back. “Better than my old bed, anyways.” She tried for a smile, but it was unconvincing.
Arranged and Illegitimate // Fantasy OxO // Closed
He blinked. "Oh, you aren't sleeping on a couch, Finley." he replied, leaning against the bookshelf and looking at her carefully. "You're taking the bed, remember?"
“I distinctly remember that we decided that you would keep you bed,” Finley said in all seriousness, tucking her hands into her lap. “I’m not stealing your bed.”
"Uhm, no we didn't. I already told you, I'll take a cot or something." he replied, shaking his head slightly. "Seriously."
“Seriously. This Witch is not going to sleep in your bed. Nope. No, sir.” Finley crossed her arms and tried to look intimidating, which failed miserably. She really didn’t want to admit that she felt super uncomfortable sleeping in Callan’s bed.
Callan sighed. "Please." He said, shaking his head a little bit. "I'm trying to be a gentleman. Take the bed." He sighed softly.
“It’s- not proper,” Finley fumbled desperately. “I can’t just take your bed! That’s not appropriate!” Just then, she heard the sound of footsteps approaching the main entrance.
He laughed, then stood at the sound of footsteps. "We're married, darling. It's perfectly appropriate." He replied with a shrug, looking at the door carefully.
Finley shot Callan a glare just as the servant from before opened the door carefully. “Um, sir? Your dinner is here,” he said cautiously, stepping into the room. Just a few more steps and he’d be able to see them, sitting and chatting instead of aggressively making out.
Callan got up, mussing his hair and then reaching over to mess up Finley's, as if they had indeed been making out. He swiped a thumb across her lip, collecting some of her lipstick, and smearing it on the edges of his lips. He straightened, coming to the door. "Ah…thank you." He said.
The servant couldn’t resist a little smile, knowing that he’d have gossip to share later. He nodded and put the tray down by the door, leaving as quickly as he had come. Finley had gone dead still as Callan had messed up her hair and brushed his thumb brushed across her lips, and couldn’t bring herself to move even as the servant left.
Callan took the tray, closing the door and looking over at Finley. "Sorry about that." he said softly, setting the tray on the desk. "I needed to keep up appearances."
Finley bobbed her head up and down like she was underwater. “I understand,” she murmured, still feeling the ghost of his touch on her face. “It’s okay.”
Callan nodded, grabbing a piece of food and taking a bite. "Right." he let out a breath, shaking his head slightly. "Anyway. Do you have any questions?"
“Questions?” Finley asked, shaking herself out of her daze. “Um, what do your royal duties usually entail?” She took out her braid and began redoing it with nimble fingers as a way to distract herself.
"Not much. I don't really have any royal duties. I show up for meetings and sit there and look pretty. I'm a fighter. i'm the muscle, not the brains. Supposedly." he shrugged. In reality, Callan was very intelligent, though he knew better than to act like it in meetings or in front of the rest of the Royalty.
“That’s a relief. I mean, that means I probably won’t have to do much. But you seem plenty smart,” Finley replied. Lightly hopping up to her feet, she grabbed some food before settling back down in her chair. “A fighter, you say? What’s your weapon of choice?”
"Sword." he replied, taking another bite of food, chewing, and swallowing. "And no, you won't really have to do anything, unless my father has a task for you." he sighed softly, leaning against the bookshelf again.
“Sword,” Finley repeated thoughtfully. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to use a sword. You’ll have to train me sometime.” Her face darkened at the mention of the king. “Fun. I can’t wait.”
He shrugged. "I'm not a good teacher." He replied simply. "I'm really not. You should see me. But maybe Josef can help you…" He trailed off, thinking. "He's the captain of the guard. He's good."
"Maybe. Hopefully he's not the kind to be like: 'A woman??? gAsP! A woman can't use a swoooord!'" she said in a comically low voice. "But hey, that's a pretty high expectation, isn't it."
He laughed a little bit. "No, he's not." he replied. "Considering his mother was the one that first taught him to fight, he doesn't really care about gender. Just skill." he chuckled, shaking his head.
“Thank Gods. At least someone has a level head around here,” Finley said with a dramatic sigh. She draped herself over the chair and grinned toothily. “I am going to be the most formidable woman in the palace. Forbidden magic and expert sword skills? No one would dare cross me!”
He snorted softly. "Aye, maybe so. But you shouldn't ever let him see that magic." He looked at her carefully. "His sister was killed by a witch." His eye as serious as he spoke. "If he knows you've got magic…that you're a witch…I don't know what he'd do."
“Well, I suppose that makes sense. No one has good history with a Witch,” Finley said, trying to play it off as a joke. “I get it, though. No magic. Ever.”
Callan nodded a little bit. "Yeah, sorry." He replied, running his hands through his hair. "But I think he'll like you. Aside from the magic, I mean." He let out a faint laugh.
Finley smiled. “That’s good. Someone will finally like me,” she said with a cheerful shrug. “But hey, even I don’t really like the magic.”
Callan chuckled softly. "Uh huh." he replied with a slight shrug. He ran his hands through his hair again, then grabbed some more food.
“So, do you have any questions for me?” Finley asked through a mouthful of food. “I am all out of questions for you, I’m afraid.”
Callan shook his head a little bit. "No, I…I don't." he replied softly, looking over at her with a faint smile. "Sorry." he didn't want to pry. That was why he didn't have any questions.