When we were young

Artur remained motionless as the echoes of his call faded swiftly in the deadening mists, but hardly a moment passed before Caelia appeared through them, prompting him to believe she'd already been close by. He stayed silent a moment, regarding her neutrally with cool blue eyes even after she'd greeted him. Finally, he inclined his head to her. "Caelia," he greeted in return. "I wasn't sure if you'd come, or if you were busy training with Aurielle." His tone was very carefully neutral, so very devoid of any trace of bitterness that it was obvious that he was, contrary to what might have been thought, indeed very salty. "Of course, I'm happy that you are able to get training," he continued smoothly, seating himself on a rock that retained some semblance of warmth from the spring sun and graciously gesturing an invitation to join him. "Is it going well? Has she moved beyond what Mother taught us when we used to spar here as pups?" Despite the fact that he was, clearly, still bitter about Aurielle taking her and Cairo as apprentices and leaving him out in the cold, Artur was genuinely interested to hear if Caelia's training was going well. He'd been concentrating so much on seeing to his own training, and that of Geoffrey and Viviane, that he had simply assumed that Caelia would already be getting training of her own, and he was forced to admit that was a foolish assumption. He needed to know, to assure himself that Caelia was as capable as he was.