#i forgot what my ask tag is already HAHA so tag tba

[princessmacedon]

“ Ah! Lady Maria! It does me well to see you again, ”  Kent beams as he addresses the young redhead.  “ I actually have a present prepared for you for the Winter Festival, if you would be so willing to accept it. ”

A large wrapped box passes from his hands to hers. Upon unwrapping it, it would be revealed to be a huge set of various thread and ribbons all of different colors, full enough to complete the rainbow and then some.

“ Seeing as you seemed so pleased to do embroidery work multiple times in the past, I thought it a hobby of yours, so I wished to help procure you some supplies for it. I am sure you have a great many things you might wish to give or some fine work you would like to practice. I shall hope this shall suffice to give you the opportunity for either case then. ”

“Hello, Ser!” And she beams back as she replies in kind, eyes narrowed at him in happiness as she accepts the box without a second thought — truly without a second thought, for it is the beat after his words that her eyes drop down, blinking with a sort of awe as she realizes what it is.

Oh, but it is the excited sort — the sort that draws her eyes clear and round, that crinkles at their corners and shimmers at its center, that glitters with anticipation — all the ‘really truly’s and the ‘what could it possibly be’s!— and her mouth drops into a little ‘o’ before clacking shut, bared with pearly whites and laughter. Hoisting the box up higher, the little princess lays her cheek against its top, hugging the gift with affection.

“Wow…! Heehee… Thank you, Ser — I love it!” A statement honest and true for the simple fact of who gifted it, or that it exists at all.

Of course, she is delighted when she opens it, eyes all moon-roundness and new inspirations bright as the sun. Fingertips glide over spools of thread and colors beyond counting (or, well, countable but no less plentiful and delightful for it), and when she smiles yet again, there is a tautness to the corners of her mouth— appreciative… if also touched.

“Thank you…! I’m really, really happy, hee hee… Happy Winter Festival to you too, Ser!” At that, she presses a finger against her lips, a secret to cleave her grin in twain. “Something is a little late… so you’ll just have to look forward to it, okay? Heeheehee!”

(Some few days later she will stop by his office between classes, a package delivered with a smile and wave; if he is to open it, he will find a modest collection of tea blends with cards accompanying each tin — most notably, there is a blend from Macedon (complete with a happily-chattered story about wyverns and the sky) and another most carefully picked…)

(And, neatly folded in the corner, a white handkerchief trimmed with warm and sunny gold, the boughs of an apple tree embroidered into its southern corners.)