Fiori clapped him on the shoulder happily and walked into the clothing room. "You found your clothes! They look nice, do they fit right?" Tharis was an excellent tailor, but it was always good to be sure. Especially because Levi didn't seem like the type who would ask for new clothes without prompting.
“Yes, they fit well,” he replied, rolling his shoulders to gauge the fit. “They’ll fit even better after I’m completely dry, as well.” He held out his arms, looking at the fit of his sleeve cuffs as well. He smiled, satisfied as they reached his wrist bone. Neither higher nor lower.
Fiori nodded with a pleased smile."Good. Tharis made these ones to be… similar to yours from your homeland. We typically favor more loose clothing, but you wear things tighter so fit is more important. Are they comfortable?"
“Incredibly.” He nodded, “the style is very familiar to what I usually wear…without the coat of course. But I don’t think I’ll need that here.” He absent minded ly fidgeted with the cuffs of his sleeves. There was nothing wrong with them, he was just glad to be wearing something he was so used to.
"You could probably do without the sleeves too. You're lucky you came in in spring instead of summer, or you'd be boiling alive." Fi gave him a teasing smile, and then slipped into the other room to change. He came out a few minutes later with thee bundles of cloth under his arm. "More clothes for you, I'll carry them to the rom."
Oh, he almost forgot about the summer. Summers in Nord Widona were tolerable enough to be outside in no more than a light overcoat. Summers during the long trips he sometimes took with his family were barely bearable…he was certainly not looking forward to living her in the summer. Hopefully he would be able to leave by the time summer came. He looked up as Fiori returned “Perfect,” he grinned. “Looks like I’ll be set for quite some time.”
Fi nodded with a small smile. "You don't know the half of it. You'll have to wear something a bit more traditional to my kingdom for the beginning of festival season, but otherwise, you can wear whatever you want and I already know Tharis is going to prepare a full wardrobe for you."
“Oh, of course,” he smiled back. He didn’t know if he was looking forward to the festival season or not. From how Fiori explained it, it seemed enjoyable. He was perhaps still nervous about meeting his uncle, but unafraid. “What kind of traditional outfit would I have to wear?”
Fiori hummed consideringly, trying to recall what his uncle's slaves wore. "A scarf to shade yourself from the sun, silver bracers, and… looser clothing, I think. Tharis will have it sent, but I'm not really familiar with what anyone but royalty wears."
Levi nodded, imagining the outfit. “It sounds simple enough,” he replied. “Very different from our festival seasons attired, but our festival season is in the winter, so that makes sense.”
Fiori imagined having to wear a jacket- or even a shirt- during festival season and found he couldn't. "It is made for mobility. We are a society of warriors, remember? We need to be able to fight, to move."
Levi’s thoughts returned to his society, and then to his brother. “Yes, I recall. And that makes sense. My society is generally one of peace, but my brother is a warrior. He talked about mobility and the inconveniences of our everyday outfits quite often. Now that I think about it, I think he would be more comfortable here than in Nord Widona. The problem is, he despises you.”
The ending of Levi's story startled a laugh out of him and he had to press his smile into his hand to stifle the undignified snort. "Oh I'm sure he does. Most Widonians do. I met one of your princes in battle once, and he called me a demon to my face." He shook his head, thinking of the memory with a tad too much fondness. The little warrior prince had been fierce. Fi had almost been bested by him. "I think I left a scar on his face, right up across his left cheek."
Levi laughed at that, but was taken aback by the story. That was probably his brother who had fought Fiori. No, it had to be his brother. Not only did Johan have a scar on his right cheek, but his other brother was much too young to be a warrior. And the fiery temper seemed about right. “That…that sounds like my prince.” His words were interrupted by short bouts of chuckling.
Fiori smiled when Levi laughed, stifling a few snickers of his own. "Yes, I quite admired him. He's the only enemy I've ever fought to have left a scar on me." His voice was tinged with admiration. "I would be quite happy to cross swords with him again, I think. He's a wonderful fighter. A bit of a shit, but dedicated to his craft."
“Wow…” he let his laughter drift away, but his smile stayed ever-present while they talked about his brother. Setting aside the betrayal for now, he did have fond memories with him, especially when they were much younger. Johan was always a better fighter—and more of a shit—than Levi, but that had never bothered him. “Where did he leave the scar?”
Fiori's laugh drifted away and his smile flattened slightly, but he turned around and reached over to touch the back of his left shoulder. There was a thick, pale slice of scar tissue that went down about six inches past his fingers. "He got me while my back was turned. My sword caught him across the cheek when I struck back, and I left him for dead."
“Oh…” he softly cursed as his smile dissipated and his eyes traced over the scar. He remembered the day his brother returned, with a half healed cut on his face along with other wounds. “Well, he didn’t die. He returned to the kingdom at the end of his tour.”
Fi held himself proudly, even though every part of him wanted to curl up and hide from Levi's gaze. He could feel it like a physical thing, itching across his scar. "A good thing, I think. His country needs a warrior. The one who was set to rule was so sheltered, and the other was far too young to even covet the throne."
Levi looked up again once he was done looking at the scar. It was impressive, yet strange seeing what damage his little brother could do.
Levi’s eyes widened when he mentioned the one set to rule. His lip twitched into an awkward smile, which he stifled with a flat expression. “Sheltered a bit, yes, but I think he’ll still be a good ruler. He may even agree with you if you seek a peace treaty when you’re king.”
Fiori didn't toss on a shirt, but he pulled on a pair of dry pants and turned to face Levi again. "I don't disagree. He seemed… very regal." It wasn't the right word, but Fiori knew he couldn't convey what he wanted to say even in his own language. "I think he would grow into a great king, but not fast enough. Not while the war still rages."
“Hm…” he considered, struggling what to say. How could he talk about himself without giving up his identity? “He is young, too. Even if the current ruler dies, he won’t be able to be officially coronated or take full responsibility as king until he’s twenty-two years of age. Hopefully the war dwindles down before then.”
Fiori nodded, considering Levi's points. "I suppose, but it's all a moot conversation now." He bit his cheek, wondering if he should tell Levi the bad news. "He died yesterday. The second prince- the warrior- found him stabbed to death in his chambers."
Levi’s stomach dropped, and his expression quickly followed. His stood with his jaws agape, and he squinted off to the side. “I… I hadn’t heard.” He closed his mouth, and wet his chapped lips. “Who would do such a thing?” He asked dryly. His brother would do such a thing, and it shouldn’t be surprising news to him. He pursed his lips as hot anger started to well in his chest. It made his ears red. All his loved ones, Mordecai, Marya, his youngest brother, all thought he was dead?
Fiori frowned at his shock, reaching forward to comfort him and then taking a step back. He'd never been good at dealing with emotional people, even when they were dear to him. "They think it was an assassin. The warrior is claiming they are from Usige, but… there have been some whispers. That it was a family member, clearing the throne for one of their children to rule."