Eya stumbled and a pair of hands grasped her shoulders to steady her.
“Forgive me! I didn’t see you in this bright light,” a voice exclaimed.
Eya blinked. Verily, the lighting wasn’t helping with distinguishing her run-in’s features. A stranger – that wasn’t what she needed right now. She felt the pieces of her royal life falling back into place, rising up like the armored shield it always seemed to be, down as it had been with Liralei, and William, and the others. She straightened and her poise, something ethereal about it which always mystified, returned.
“Ah, it’s my fault equally; I was watching the light patterns more than where I was going. Though, you are camouflaged well in the emerald.”
“And I was lost in too many thoughts.”
The stranger stepped into the clear sunlight of the center corridor and Eya followed.
He was tall, broad-shouldered; his bearing was like that of her father’s warriors, and yet she had never seen such a thing in one so young. He couldn’t have been more than Mercir’s age at the most, and that was only twenty.
His distant confidence drew anxiety into Eya’s eyes and she felt her hands tightening, remembering how all reacted upon seeing her mask and gloves.