Care for a dance?

The shift in Absinth's expression and the twitch of her smile caught Khonsu's attention. He felt a flicker of surprise, his head tilting almost imperceptibly as he considered the meaning of her words. The notion that she, too, had clawed her way up from adversity... well, it challenged his initial impression of her. He had assumed her strength and status were given, perhaps born into, not earned through trials, pain, or suffering.

Sol found his voice then, his expression a mix of curiosity and hesitance. "Are you a Saxe, Absinth?" He asked gently. The question was tentative. He did not want to overstep, yet could not contain his earnest interest. The need to piece together the story she had hinted at.

The twins remained still, ready to listen but prepared to retreat if they had asked too much. They recognized the privilege of receiving any response at all, understanding that their position did not entitle them to the personal histories of others - especially not those who held power over them. Yet, the shared moment of vulnerability, the brief insight into Absinth's past struggles... it had sparked some strange connection. One the twins hoped they could explore. Worst case, they could always backpedal and remind her of the spar they sought. If anything, it might give the woman an outlet if they'd offended her.

Sol & Khonsu