How many times has she sat down for a meal with him, keeping many things to herself? Plenty, Kisara thinks. Likely for a multitude of reasons. Never the right time. Never the right situation. The complicated history between them making it a little difficult to be as honest with him as once she had been. Time had softened that somewhat, but there was no doubting that it remained, of all things, not an easy piece of proverbial land to traverse.
She has to wonder if she's ever noticed his feelings for her. She's inclined to think not. If she's ever thought it was possible, then it was likely quickly pushed aside. What business has a Renan lord ever had with a Dahnan? Well, it's what she would have thought before. Even if they're technically the same, Kisara continues to wonder why the interest would be there at all.
Maybe... they've always simply been drawn to one another.
Her smile is, as it has been so much on this particular exchange, sheepish. Perhaps a touch uncertain and wary, though less of him and more of herself.
"I... don't really know what to say," she begins, a small laugh making its way into her voice. "I wasn't exactly expecting this today. Or... ever, actually. I'm not sure there's anything I could have done to be prepared for it. I guess that might not matter so much now, though. Sounds like we have at least one dinner in the future. And it... probably won't be a dinner between friends."
Because of all the things that they are, friends is a bit of an understatement. Maybe for longer than she's been willing to admit or acknowledge. Choosing not to see the truth, however, does not mean truth does not exist.
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She has to wonder if she's ever noticed his feelings for her. She's inclined to think not. If she's ever thought it was possible, then it was likely quickly pushed aside. What business has a Renan lord ever had with a Dahnan? Well, it's what she would have thought before. Even if they're technically the same, Kisara continues to wonder why the interest would be there at all.
Maybe... they've always simply been drawn to one another.
Her smile is, as it has been so much on this particular exchange, sheepish. Perhaps a touch uncertain and wary, though less of him and more of herself.
"I... don't really know what to say," she begins, a small laugh making its way into her voice. "I wasn't exactly expecting this today. Or... ever, actually. I'm not sure there's anything I could have done to be prepared for it. I guess that might not matter so much now, though. Sounds like we have at least one dinner in the future. And it... probably won't be a dinner between friends."
Because of all the things that they are, friends is a bit of an understatement. Maybe for longer than she's been willing to admit or acknowledge. Choosing not to see the truth, however, does not mean truth does not exist.