skin, bone, and arrogance
A strange mixture of emotions rolled over Natasi like waves over the bow of a ship as it pushed through rough northern waters.
Aside from affection, there was gratitude for the grace that Dyrn extended to her and shame that any grace was required. Dyrn's reaction was not unexpected, but some part of her still wondered -- if she had been truthful from the beginning, would they be here today, in a cozy cottage contemplating the next steps of their relationship? And if not, whether he felt it or not, she would have caught him with a lie. But now the cards were on the table, and Dyrn was an adult. He could choose for himself.
Natasi didn't need the Force to tell her that there was no evasion within him. He radiated good nature and sincerity, and for as many years as Natasi had spent in the upper echelons of this imperial government or that one, she recognized duplicity in its absence as much as in its presence. Her hand lingered on his chest for a few moments, her dark eyes scouring his wondrously-colored ones. When his hand moved to her cheek, it was all she could do not to lean into it, particularly after he declared himself.
"Oh Dyrn," she murmured, her voice part loving acknowledgment and part admonition -- as if, after all their discussion, he didn't know what he was taking on by finally speaking the words out loud. Of course, Natasi had known for some time, and she suspected that he did as well. Whether it was the difference in their ranks or her own Galidraani custom that had prevented them from exchanging the words before, any obstacles had by now been swept away.
"I love you," she whispered and, after a moment, she leaned forward and planted a brief kiss on his lips before straightening and smoothing her blouse of non-existent wrinkles.
Natasi could have proposed to him in that very moment, but there was still the very real question of compatibility. Whether they could live together -- not as sovereign and sworn bodyguard, but as partners and lovers -- was a matter yet unresolved. But that was only a matter of time, now. She stood and delved into her pocket for a kerchief, turning towards the window to discretely dab at the corner of her eyes with the cloth. "What a relief," she said with a half-smile over her shoulder at him. "What should we do for the afternoon? I've finished the dispatches for now, so we've got until dinner. Perhaps there's a hike or something, if you think we're up to it."
She paused and then added, with the ghost of a smile on her lips: "Nothing too strenuous, of course."