This chapter was written in collaboration with Scylla.
Amon opened his mouth, then closed it, looking extremely uncomfortable at the loss of his glasses in a public place. But not wanting to let it show too much, he didn’t make a move to rectify the situation.
His eyes nervously darted to the parchment which lay half-pinned under one of the books on the fringe of the mess. Then, they settled on Scylla, doing anything he could to focus on something other than the feeling of irrational panic that wanted to overwhelm him.
“I… really did not come here to pick a fight. I didn’t know you’d be here.” The Elezen measured his words slowly. “Actually, I had things on my mind, and came here to be alone.”
“You have a funny way of expressing your desire to be alone.” Scylla’s eyes followed Amon’s down to the off color of parchment. She reached down, and picked up the book with a quiet whisper.
“I don’t seem to remember this…”
Amon coughed slightly, trying to act as if he’d never see the parchment in his life.
“Probably fell out of one of those books,” he fibbed as smoothly as he could.
What are you up to, you little scoundrel?
Scylla frowned at Amon, and unfolded the parchment, eyes scanning the top.
“Funny enough, your name is in the corner.”
“O..ohhh…” His voice raised a bit higher, ears quivering a bit, having forgotten it was addressed to him. “Yes well…”
Amon lashed out a hand to swipe it from her, hoping he’d prevent her from reading the rest of it.
“’Tis mine. No prying!”
“Fine. ‘Tis yours.”
Scylla spoke with a mock Amon voice, before releasing the parchment. She gave him a look with narrowed eyes before gathering up what remained of the books on the ground.
“So, your aether is getting that chaotic.” She spoke casually as she put all of the remaining books and papers in her leather knapsack. “Consulting an aetherologist, then?”
“Mmmmm….” Amon pursed his lips tightly, not answering at first. He took the opportunity to put his glasses back on as he folded and tucked the parchment into his pocket.
“Seems I’ll not find the solitude I was seeking here. I’ll wish you a good day, and be on my way.”
“Amon! You come here and cause a ruckus and you expect to get away with… that?” Scylla stood up and slid herself right in front of his path. “I’ll ask again. What is going on?”
“’Tis none of your business,” the Elezen grumbled, taking a chance to grasp her shoulders and move her out of his way. “I’ve got the situation well in hand. I was directed to this fellow by Ben. You’re so fond of Ben, so you should be glad to hear I took his advice.”
“’Tis my business, too!” Scylla huffed and bit on her lower lip, pointing her finger at him.
“You do nothing but complain about me and my royal status, having fun with your mockery of a princess. Well… it’s the job of an Allagan royal to attend to the well-being of her subjects.” The woman crossed her arms.
“Don’t you think I can feel it? There’s something wrong with your aetherflow.” Scylla reached her hand up to his choker. “And it has to be pretty serious if you are depending on others.”
“D-don’t touch that!” Amon jittered back out of her reach, hoping his height would allow him to keep the choker away from her prying hands.
He bit off the words sharply, “And since when has it been your job to attend to my well-being? You merely put up with the fact that we’re forced to co-exist in the same household, but when was the last time you even so much as gave me the time of day?”
“What? You’re the one who locks himself in his room all day and leaves the dirty dishes in the basin?” Scylla pouted, reaching again for his neckpiece. “Now stop complaining and let me take a look.”