❖ Azalea

Chapter 2: elucidations

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The heavy cobblestone doors swung open, groaning and clacking as if cogs were being turned. The saddle brown leather of the adolescent's boots, stretched up to her knees as she walked in, striding to the short round table in the centre of the circular room, which stretched out a few meters. At the end of said table was a man, perched over with a bundle of papers and books.

Smooth, peach coloured walls were rimmed with dark, oak frames. The room was large and round, the floor boards a matching dark wood and in the centre was a large, circular, maroon rug made out of fur.

The slightly platformed boots clicked across the room and up to the man with the burly figure, he straightened and looked up at her - face calm and patient.
She stopped in front of him, greeting him with a shake of their hands, before sighing slightly. She sat down perpendicular from his body, crossing her long legs and cupping her hands in her lap.

Her hands were a smooth bronze, covered generously with a few rings made of gold and silver, each one possessing an intricate pattern. 2 cuff bracelets on each wrist following the same rhythm, which she clutched instinctively.

She looked at him after a minute of silence, causing the man to start speaking.

"I'll be upfront with you, I've barely found anything about him." His voice came out deep, yet smooth.
The young lady besides him perked a brow.

"Barely? So there is something."
Her voice was deeper than an average girl's, yet was still quite soft and held a firm tone.

A small frown etched its way onto the man's sculpted face, clean stubble trailing along his jaw. He turned his attention to the table in front of him and picked up a single, thin, white sheet of paper. He turned his attention to her, studying her face: so young yet tensed with stress and a history. He spoke slowly,

"Knowing nothing, in some cases, can be better than knowing anything at all, my Lord."

"What happened to all knowledge is good knowledge?"

"I think we both know that's not true."

She stayed quiet after that, not really having a rebuttal. After all he spoke the truth, they'd know that first hand.

He passed her the sheet of paper which she took gingerly, piercingly turquoise-blue eyes darting across it. She frowned, eyes narrowing slightly in focus, faint, dark circles under them becoming more distinct as she did, but the icy blue markings, moderately luminescent in the shaded room, cut through the skin from her eyes. The feature curling slightly and resting on her cheeks, like a perpetual tear stain.

"Yaron, I don't recognise it."

"You wouldn't." he picked up a thick, tattered notebook and pressed it toward her. "It's not in our name registry, so that'd lead us to assume he, perhaps, wanted to lay low - or he's not someone worthy of noting down, a simple bloke."

She waved her hand in indication of putting the book down, she didn't need proof, she trusted his word to the fullest. The small action, seemingly nothing to her, made him melt into a small smile.

She took him in for a second, his wide build and broad shoulders made him look somewhat intimidating, not to mention his ram-like horns, curled around his ears.

But that was hardly the case, he had to of been the most tame and rational person she had ever met.

The way his slim, honey coloured eyes close and deep, brown skin crinkles at the edges whenever he smiles, whether it's small or boisterous (though she'd never seen him give one like it), so full of genuine joy and sunshine proved that.