Sage watched as the other men left to congregate, in Baron's tower. To her surprise Drakmor stayed behind with her. She was about to question his motive's when a horse drawn carriage pulled up in front of them. She recognized the crest painted on the side of it as belonging to their allies, the Gallian Empire.
The driver got out, and bowed unnecessarily to her. “Your presence is requested by the Emperor of Gallia.”
Sage blinked. It was late the last thing she wanted to do was drink tea and exchange pleasantries with more royalists. “What for?”
“There has been a force of magick and immortality detected in the area.”
Sage glanced back at Drakmor.
“No, not your men Empress, but something far more powerful and much darker.”
She heard Drakmor mutter something under his breath, about the coachmen not understanding the extent of his powers. Sage ignored Drakmor and let the coachmen help her into the carriage. “Come along, with me?” Sage asked.
Drakmor nodded before climbing into the carriage. He settled on the bench next to her, but slid towards his window allowing some space between them. The coachmen, slammed the door shut, moments later they were moving forward. A small lantern hung on a hook, offering minimal light inside the carriage.
Sage yawned with exhaustion and stole a look at Drakmor, who appeared distraught and depressed. He was never one to voice his misery or anguish, he preferred to keep it hidden under a tough facade. Sage knew him for far too long. It was easy to detect his sadness. She moved closer to Drakmor. She remained quiet, as she settled against him, leaning her head on his shoulder. It felt comfortable and somehow right. Drakmor who was rigid at first, finally relaxed. If Sage hadn't been so tired she would have tried harder to resist Drakmor, but in her sleepy unguarded state, she was more appreciative of him. He had come here to help here and had given her some of his own powers. She might never be able to repay him, but she would try to find a way.
Away from his friends, Drakmor seemed nicer, like he had less to prove, or maybe he just didn't have the energy to yell at her right now. Sage glanced up at Drakmor. She wanted to voice these thoughts in the worst way, but her throat went dry. Drakmor stared back at her expectantly. Just then the carriage went over a bumpy bridge. Clumsily Sage bumped her head against Drakmor's chin.
“Sorry,” she whispered, retreating back into her own space. The comfortable silence, became awkward and tension filled.
A few minutes later Sage dared another look at Drakmor, he was studying her curiously. Sage began fumbling for something smart or witty to say, anything to detract from their current dilemma of having been caught staring at each other.
Just as Sage was about to comment on the whip's lack of driving skills the carriage veered sharply again, throwing Sage against Drakmor. Their noses were touching. Sage froze, Drakmor's eye's grew wide. They were a breath away from kissing. Drakmor stared at her expecting her to move. Sage was paralyzed by her desire to kiss him. All rational thought escaped her mind. She knew, it wouldn't be proper to throw herself at her friend and former crew mate, but perhaps he too would welcome the distraction. She couldn't think about it any longer. Quickly, She closed her eyes as she pressed her mouth up against his.