four, flirtatious gods

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four"it's too late, it's too late"

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four
"it's too late, it's too late"

"Cloris, hurry up!" Lusine commands as the younger woman scurries around her, as jumpy as the fool who read horror in the dark of night.

Lusine watches her and takes in her delightful features. She was a petite girl with a small button nose, curly dark brown hair and tan skin. Short, but not as skinny as Lusine had thought she'd be for a servant girl. It made her a little happier to see a girl who wasn't so resistant to food. A woman who liked her food was a woman to love. As Cloris worked Lusine found that she couldn't help but watch her.

"Cloris, I do love your curly hair," She complimented, the intention genuine, though the light blush that freshly coated the maid's cheeks might have indicated she thought otherwise. Perhaps a ploy to humiliate her for a little bit of light entertainment. However, this was not the case.

"Thank you, Lusine," Cloris smiles, her plump pink lips turning at the corners in a fashion that made Lusine almost glad she'd uttered the compliment. "The curls are often more of a curse than a blessing."

"How so? They look stunning," Lusine winds her index finger through one of the dark curls, twisting it between finger and thumb as Cloris sorted out the skirt of her deep purple dress.

"Curls and a hair brush do not mix. If I try and brush my hair it turns into a complete mess."

"That's a pity, it's so beautiful and yet so resilient," Lusine says quietly. Cloris stands up but Lusine does not let the curl drop from between her fingers. Cloris feels her cheeks heating up to a vibrant red as she brushes the hair from Lusine's face and into its picture-perfect place.

Cloris looks into Lusine's eyes for a moment with a ghost of a smile on her lips. "You'd be a good mother, Lusine."

"No, no, I'd be a dreadful mother. As my mother said earlier, I can barely look after my wolves, let alone a child." Lusine drops the curl and turns her back on Cloris. "Brush out my hair, it's got a few knots in it."

"Of course," Cloris nods her head as she takes the wooden brush into her hand. Delicately she begins to pull the brush through Lusine's glossy locks. "I still think that you're going to be a brilliant mother when you're older. You can be quite the caring woman when you want to be."

"You think I'm not caring?" Lusine's eyebrows raise at the sudden boldness of the shy maid she had first encountered.

"No, you are," The maid says, "You just have an odd way of showing your interest or care for someone."

"I do not understand, Cloris. Please, explain what you mean." Lusine folds her hands across her stomach and taps her fingertips on the purple fabric of the gown, unable to image herself ever carrying a child.

"The way you show your feelings and care for someone is not the conventional way of doing so," Cloris says, pulling the brush through the final section of hair and setting the brush back down. Lusine, knowing that she was done, turns back around to face Cloris. "You're sarcastic and witty to everyone, but to those you care about you're slightly wittier. It's difficult to explain, Lusine, but you just seem to put that little bit of extra thought into the way you insult them."

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