pike | nigel's mobile;

"All of the curses in this place are silly," Nigel offers, his voice closer than it was a moment ago. "Except for those that are tragic. But those are the only variety."

There is a touch on Rosella's elbow -- light and uninvited, but otherwise polite. Nigel's fingertips offering the barest hint of support, an unspoken reminder that I am here, and I will catch you should you slip. This, of course, requires Nigel to be standing directly behind Rosella in order to accomplish. Not so close as to be properly rude, simply hedging along the borders of it. "Had you called Saya as well?"

"I think there's a third sort to it, actually. Because there are ones that are nice, too, though they come very seldom," she answers, instinctively glancing in his direction when she feels that touch, but there's nothing intrusive about the fingertips resting so lightly on her arm--and there's something almost familiar in it, something she remembers from friends she'd known long before Nigel. Under normal circumstances, she might've found herself a touch flustered, given Nigel's closeness and his tendency to stare; today, with a curse like this one lingering over her head, she sees the other side of it, the boy who came all the way back from the library just so she wouldn't be alone. "They let me see my brother, once, on our birthday last year. I suppose that could've been a tragic one, in a sense, but...it wasn't. It was nice."

Then, with a slight smile, she retrieves the tea and turns in place, holding it up a bit for Nigel's inspection. "And no, I...as silly as it sounds, I hate to feel like a bother to Miss Saya. She always seems so busy, and..." And I understand her less than I do you, she wants to say, but there's really no polite way of mentioning it. As nice as she is, there's a certain coldness to Saya, a distance that Rosella can identify but somehow can't explain. And somehow she suspects that as embarrassed as she feels today, telling Saya about it would only result in her feeling even moreso. "Which isn't to say that you weren't busy, just that...well, I thought it'd bother you less, I suppose. If I did."

Nigel muses on the thought of a 'nice' curse. The phrase was already a contradiction in terms; But, as the saying went: one man's blight was another man's blessing. When he bends to inspect the tea offered to him, he is still mostly thinking on what sort of a curse would qualify as 'nice' to him. Certainly an opportunity to see Alex would be appreciated, though the eventual parting would simply leave Nigel feeling frustrated. Seeing his mother, perhaps, but those circumstances would be even more complicated. Being given the opportunity kill his father again, maybe.

Now, Nigel smiles in an approving manner, though to all outward appearances it seems as though he's simply glad to see the tea Rosella's chosen. He nods a thankful nod at her as he straightens. "That would suit me very nicely, Rosella, thank you," he tells her.

He allows her the space to go about making the tea, not offering help simply because Nigel understands that the task itself is what is important here. He folds his hands and leans with one hip against the counter, watching her -- her hands, the line of her posture, the way a curl of hair slips at her temple.

"You know you may call upon me for anything, Rosella." She was, after all, a proper princess and what would a knight be without one. "It isn't a bother. Such is the nature of friendship."

She finds herself unusually pleased at Nigel's approval--the curse, likely, amplifying things to extremes she wouldn't normally reach--and sets the tea near the cups, then heads off to retrieve the boiling water from the stove. It's a familiar process, and it does help to keep busy, though all the tea-making in the world wouldn't help as much as just having someone else in the room with her has.

"I know, but it's only fair, isn't it? Making sure not to take more than one gives in return?" But then she finds herself pausing, redoubling back onto that thought. "But I suppose that's a bit easier said than done, really, because it's much easier to help someone else than it is to ask for it yourself."

nigel's mobile;

on the night i die, i swear i'll sleep outside your window;

on the night i die, i swear i'll sleep outside your window;

on the night i die, i swear i'll sleep outside your window;

on the night i die, i swear i'll sleep outside your window;