He opens his eyes and smiles at her.

She smiles back, warmly.

And then she leans up and kisses him. Because he's been really sweet and she wants to.

Well, that's lovely. He kisses back.

(He could -

He won't.)

Rivethira isn't precisely unaware of his potential inner turmoil, but it's sort of only barely in the back of her mind. If he feels he needs to stop, she trusts him to handle it. Maybe she shouldn't, but she does.

Until then, they can just pick up where they left off earlier, with the all-the-time-in-the-world kisses. Mmm.

These are good kisses. And it's true, they do have all the time in the world.

They're probably going to be here a while.

Yes. They are.

He doesn't need to take a moment to remind himself what he wants, this time. He just kisses her, and holds her, and thinks about how precious and delightful she is, and remembers her crying on him, and the way she blushes...

This is a pretty good way to get a slightly sleepy, but snuggly and affectionate Lady Rivethira. Like so. She is so snuggly and affectionate.

"Think I should try to stay up later, or just let myself nod off adorably?" she mumbles.

"Oh, nod off adorably, definitely," he says, kissing her forehead.

"Yeah, I was leaning that direction too," she agrees.

And there she goes, drifting off to sleep.

He stays a few more minutes, holding her, and then he dissolves into the wind and leaves.

What a night.

He still needs another swan, but... he doesn't feel like looking right now.

Rivethira wakes up warm and cozy and in a much better mood than she'd been the previous day. If - slightly pensive. Because she did sort of just make out with the terrifying sorcerer, didn't she. She doesn't regret it, but wow that was a thing, wasn't it. Well. She never set out to live a normal life. This is just - abnormal in an unexpected direction. He was so sincerely sweet. It doesn't make sense, but it feels so genuine. She doesn't regret kissing him. She should, maybe, but she doesn't.

She gets up, notes that she's admittedly a bit of a mess, what with the murder attempt and the crying, and goes to figure out how the magical bathtub works. It's pretty straightforward, and she decides that it is a fantastic invention and that she loves it very very much. Then, she gets breakfast (it's too early for Serik to be up yet, and the table still hasn't figured out her tastes) and then she goes back to the library to continue banging her head on Ansati. Whee.

No one else in the library today. Just the books.

That's fine. She kind of didn't have any idea how she would explain this to Iri, anyway. She'll make whatever progress she can on learning the language, and take advantage of the isolation to think.

There is another party tonight, down in Oroshe. Lord Tanaikon doesn't officially have an invitation, but then, he almost never does.

He's riding the wind above the city when he sees the garden, lamps lit against the approach of evening, well-dressed guests drinking wine and chatting quietly. He comes down for a closer look, not yet doing anything to reveal his presence.

There are a number of guests that are certainly to his taste. Two brunettes in matching gowns that look alike and whisper gossip to each other like they're sisters, a handsome young man with golden curls and a winning smile that's charming everyone who comes near him, one lovely pale woman with dark black hair and striking ice blue eyes that's flirting with someone much older for what has to be his money -

- And a blonde who sits alone in the garden, looking up at the sky like she wishes she could grow wings and fly off.

It's been a while since he had a male swan, and that's a particularly tasty-looking one. But the stargazer is also tempting.

Well. Time to make an entrance.

There's an ornamental fountain in the middle of the garden. He pulls all its water up into the air in a twisting column, spins it in the wind, sends it crashing down again, and materializes in front of the fountain as the spray from the resulting wave rains on everyone in sight.

There are gasps of alarm and dismay - alarm from those who haven't realized what's going on, dismay from those that have.

Clearly they were not expecting him to crash a party so soon after his last visit.

He glances at his various candidates to see which ones are quick on the uptake.

One of the brunettes is frozen stiff with fear, but her sister is tugging at her arm to subtly lead her to what must be a likely route to a side exit. The potential male swan doesn't seem to realize that he might be at risk, from the way he casually steps in front of the woman he'd been chatting with. The woman with the ice blue eyes has taken advantage of the water that rained down and is using it to smudge her makeup to make herself look less attractive.

The blonde has stood up and is looking right at him, with a cold and detached expression of open contempt. She does not flinch away when he meets her eyes; if anything, she tilts her head up, slightly.

Well, look who just crowned herself Most Interesting Person at the Party.

He dissolves into the wind and rematerializes standing right in front of her.

"Something to say?" he inquires.

She does not flinch at the attention, either.

"Who, me?" she says, blinking innocently. "Oh, I would never dream of speaking out of turn, my lord."

Which of course means 'I don't dance for you, asshole.'