|Summary:||Saffron and Kamron almost seal the deal. Almost…|
|Date:||09 June 2012|
|Related Logs:||The Spark|
|The Reading Room, Four Eagles Tower|
|The room has a large glass window and seat that looks out partially over the cove, in daylight hours the sun provides illumination to the room. Other stools and chairs linger in small groups as shelves along the walls are littered with scrolls, books, letters and documents. The contents are a modest collection of local records, histories, and literature offered to both the family and guests of Four Eagles Tower.|
|June 9, 289|
Kamron nods his head at Saffron's question, then looks over to Nedra as she rises to her Septa's call. He stands as well, reaching up to pat the hand on his shoulder briefly, a purely brotherly gesture. "Take care, Nedra." As she leaves, he settles down into his chair again, "Hopefully so, Lady Saffron. Provided that the marriage is a good and true one, it will tie together two of the naval powers of Westeros." His left foot bounces lightly, "Are you sure your reputation is safe here without Mistress Morla or Master Punbah, My Lady?"
"Thank you, Lady Nedra," Saffron says after the Mallister girl before she looks over to Kamron. "I like her… I see now that she is truly your sister." She turns her gaze back to him, and a soft pink flush rises at her cheeks at his question. "With you, Ser Kamron, my reputation is quite safe. Morla even agrees that I am safe with you." She bites softly at her lower lip as she turns her gaze back down to the heraldry book. "Do you think you're safe with me, Ser Kamron?" She asks as she keeps her gaze on the Mallister family tree.
Kamron nods and smiles, "I would expect no less from two women of such quality." He laughs softly at the response, "Mistress Morla agrees, but I doubt everyone would. For your sake, these moments of solitude should probably be kept to a minimum, no matter how pleasant they are." Her next words draw his eyebrows up high, and he leans forward slightly to study the woman studying her book. After a long moment, he speaks up, his voice quiet, "I think you might be very dangerous to me, Lady Saffron. But not so much in the way that others might think."
The Banefort traces the lines of Kamron's own family tree, looking over each name that has lead to his own arrival in this world. "I can't read what this says," she announces offhandedly as she squints at some of the more worn letters. She maintains that lean for just a moment as he speaks, but a smile alights her lips soon enough. She glances over to him with a slight tilt of her head. "Why do you think I'm dangerous, Ser Kamron? In what ways if not what others would assume?"
Kamron looks up at the question, uncrossing his legs and rising to his feet. He steps over to the table, although he does approach it carefully from the other side, "Ser Royce Mallister, my great-grandfather, married Lady Edina Vypren." His fingers trace the lines on the paper he knows oh-so-well, "Their eldest son, Ser Jaspar Mallister, married Lady Wilma Roote. My grandparents and Nedra's." There's a momentary pause, and his mouth quirks up at one corner, "You're a Banefort, are you not?" His smile broadens, "I've done my own research." Again, it's a slightly evasive answer, although he offers up a smile with it to ease some of the sting. "You also have a most estimable advisor in Mistress Morla."
As he begins to speak, Saffron steps so she can turn the book a bit so it faces him easier. She ends up at his side as he introduces the grandparents, and she nods at their names with a sort of learned attention. Her eyes lift to him at his answer to her actual question, and indeed… it stings. She tilts her head a bit, and her cinnamony forelocks grace into her eyes. "And what is wrong with being a Banefort?" She inquires softly as she seeks to hold his gaze, hers quite warm.
Kamron arches his eyebrow as she glides around to his side, shaking his head with an amused grin, "That was a compliment, My Lady." He offers a soft smile, his right hand half-rising as if to brush aside her forelocks, but manages to restrain himself with a grin. "I get the feeling that nothing like this trouble at The Roost or Stonebridge would happen in Banefort lands or any adjacent to them. Your aunt and uncle have a reputation for efficient rulership."
Saffron almost catches the gesture, and she finds herself holding her breath in anticipation for something she knows would never come. Then she releases the exhale as he speaks of her uncle and aunt. "There are few things that my aunt and uncle do poorly, Ser. My aunt especially. She is ruthless… but fair." She unconsciously steps to him, almost as if pulled but some unknown magnetism to close the gap between them. Her cheeks have settled into their normal softness without much pinking, and there is a small smile on her lips.
Kamron keeps his body turned toward the table, just turning his head toward her. Well, his head and that tiny little twist of his shoulders. It doesn't quite open up his frame to her, but it's an unconscious tendency in that direction. His voice is quiet, "And are you as ruthless as you are fair, My Lady?" There's something about sound of his voice suggests that he doesn't mean fair as in 'just,' but rather it's a commentary on her appearance.
Saffron bites softly at her lower lip as she smiles, and a little blush grows on her cheeks. "My mother would say that I have a nature that could burn the forest down if not contained… and so hard I have tried to contain it, for her sake and perhaps mine." She speaks in a hush, almost afraid someone may overhear. "Perhaps in time, I will become as ruthless as my aunt." She has forgotten the book, and another unconscious step has drifted her toward him.
Kamron doesn't retreat, although he probably should. His smile is probably a bit goofy at the moment, but since he doesn't even know that it graces his face, he has no way of knowing that it's taken on that goofy cast. "Oh, I've seen your temper, Lady Saffron. I've been quite lucky not to ever have to face the forest fire." His left hand taps lightly on the book, another unconscious gesture, "I'm sure that won't last forever, of course. And I would rather you not get too ruthless before that time."
"No, you've just chased after it," Saffron points out in a soft voice as she hovers very close to the Mallister knight now. In her own boldness, she touches his forearm and then elbow, as if to open up his frame to her so she can finish that predatory approach. She is now close enough that the mere two inches of height difference makes whatever to come next painfully easy. She continues to hold his gaze steadily with her own, her own smile soft to compete his goofiness. "I will only ever be ruthless against someone who threatens my family," she tells him in a hush, reassuring him she will never be that ruthless.
Kamron lets his grin shift into just a bit of a smirk, "I've always been one to chase the flame. You know that about me." At the touch to the inside of his arm, his body shifts into the natural turn away from the table to face the Banefort. And then he realizes just how close he is to the young woman, and that there is no one else in the reading room. His head half-turns as if to look to the door, but his eyes remain on hers, "Your family and your people? Some day you'll help your husband rule a tower, and watch over the people of the lands surrounding it."
"Are you not afraid to get burned, Kamron?" Saffron whispers as she feels her smile double on her lips. She is almost starting upon the balls of her feet, and she has tilted up her chin to him as if to offer her lips to the Mallister knight. And then, whether or not it was his intention, he speaks the words that break through the haze of warmth that has driven her so very close to what could have been a kiss. "Some day," she repeats softly. A small shudder rouses her nerves, and she quickly steps back, perfectly avoiding the corner of the desk as she does.
As she retreats, she no doubt brushes aside the hand that was half-raised to her back, as Kamron cannot move it in time. His eyes close as the redhead's heat departs, and his smile takes on a soft, dry curl. He turns back to the desk himself, his left hand coming over to rub his thumb across that still-tingling bit of skin on his wrist. The knight looks down, watching his fingers trace over his skin and swallowing hard. "I've been scarred before, My Lady." That must be a response to her first question, not her promise. "But it has not kept me chasing the flame and the call to battle."
Saffron has placed the heavy desk between them once more, but she has refused to return her gaze to him as if he would see something there, something she wished he wouldn't. Her cheeks are flushed, and a cocktail of emotions upset her normal warm and open expression — hurt mixed with embarrassment. She nods her head gently to his words. "I should go," she says, maybe a bit abruptly. "Thank you, Ser… for your help. I will see you at the picnic tomorrow." As if to reassure him, she casts a small smile his way. And then she has set herself to flee.
That hurt tightens Kamron's eyes when he looks up again, his jaw tightening. When she speaks, one foot shifts as if he might step forward, but it falls still again almost immediately, "I — That is — " He's been transformed into his squire. His jaw clenches again as he turns to follow her flight, "Farewell, Lady Saffron. I will ever offer you whatever help I can." Once the door is closed, he turns back to the desk, clenching his fists. He waits a minute, maybe two, and then slams the palm of his hand down on the table, "Godsdamn it. Should I just tell her? Would it help at all?"