linnea.

"more fjerdan by blood, perhaps, but that is where your resemblance of any typical fjerdan man ends, and certainly to any fjerdan royalty." she never did have the misfortune of being too close to the highest powers within the ice court, the advantage of being allowed to attend —

a dull ache settles over her chest, a weight that presses down just over her heart. she feels his absence now more than she ever had as a child. she'd always had faith then that he'd return, yet now she's unsure when, or if, she may see him again. —

her attention drops to the glass in hand, idly tracing fingertips along the delicate rim before lifting it to drain the remainder and pour a fresh drink. she'd known of a half — brother for many years, though she hadn't meant to, but nosey children can —

if he spends his time gaping at her, she couldn't pretend she doesn't do the same in return. there's so much of her father — their father — in him that she could fool herself into thinking she knows him better than she truly does. "old habits, i suppose." she jests, —

ah, yes, tea. the worst of all vices. but she'll oblige him in returning with the bottle, a couple of glasses snatched up for them as she passes by the drinks cabinet once more and takes her place on one of the sofas instead. two drinks poured, her own lifted towards —