“A curious observation… ‘I’ don’t make a habit of changing my face.”

A breath whistles through his teeth, stare dropping back to the reports before him. He dips the nib of his pen into a glassy inkwell, giving it a gentle tap.

“Is there something you need? I doubt you’ve come for my company.”

His gaze raises from the papers scattered across his rickety desk, visor tilted in her general direction.

“… And what should I take that to mean, 𝘋𝘢𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦?”

"I will. Please do not worry about me... it is you who should carefully look after your own health. Many would be concerned if something were to happen to you, Miss Columbina—you are far too important to Nod-Krai's people."

He bowed his head.

"Then, I'll be off. May I visit you again?"

Flins wished to linger longer... but for what purpose, he wasn't sure. Silvermoon Hall was peaceful—akin to the Final Night Cemetery, yet with a twinge of hope and light.

"Why, of course." The fae glanced back towards the entrance, wondering if it was time to leave. "I should return to my patrol."

"I was patrolling the area to ensure the Wild Hunt was not looking to target Hiisi Island under our noses... and I remembered that you were here. Merely wishing to check on you, I decided to enter. Is that answer to your liking, Miss Columbina?"

"Mine?" Surprise colors his eyes—not entirely feigned. Not a moment later and he recovers, hands folding behind his back. "You will hear no complaints from me, Miss. The Wild Hunt has been rather quiet as of late. I thank you for your concern... you are most generous."

+

"Ah, Miss Columbina." Flins gives a polite bow, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I trust you are doing well today. How is your health?"