Aerith, Avi & Tifa

[The Painted Lady]

The gypsy girl looked up again, seeing the Prince looking at her still. For the first time in his presence, she spoke up.
"It's rude to stare," she said calmly, voice surprisingly musical. "Anyone would think a Prince would be taught better manners."

[Tifa Lockhart]

Atemu smirked and broke his gaze away, reaching out to take another piece of the exotic looking fruit.
"Some like to think that... but as a matter of fact, a Prince is taught very little of what you'd expect him to be..." He took a seat on the floor by his bed cross-legged, keeping his eyes away from her, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable.

Eshe blushed timidly as the Head priestess told her that she had much to learn. She remained silent, even as she was asked for the bowl, which she passed to her superior obediently, keeping out of the way of trouble and bowing her head reverently when the Head Priestess knelt to pray.

[Avi]

Finishing her prayer, she stood slowly and began to sing in a low resonating voice, the song was used to envoke the Gods good will onto those whom you desire. Her voice carried through the room and echoed off of the walls back to the alter.

[The Painted Lady]

The gypsy girl raised an eyebrow.
"Is that so?"
She shifted, standing to retrieve more fruit, before returning to her former position, now leaning against the wall.
"Then is what is so unexpected of you, highness?"
She used the title with a slightly sarcastic tone, violet eyes fixed on him.

[Tifa Lockhart]

"No need to bore yourself with titles miss." He said gently, having caught the sarcastic way in which she used it. "My name is Atemu." He then got onto answering her questions.
"I'm expected to be a vessel for Lord Ra, silent when in public and it is supposedly I who changes the sun to the moon." He shrugged. People were so misguided.

[The Painted Lady]

"And how does one do that, Atemu?" the gypsy girl asked, before taking a mouthful of her fruit.
She didn't give back her name as would be expected. She would wait until she was explicitly asked. If he wanted to know, he would make sure he found out.

[Tifa Lockhart]

"One doesn't." He replied, "One tries ones hardest for the sake of his father's praise, and fails." He finished off another piece of fruit and regarded her for a long moment.
"And what of you? How'd you come to be in the custody of my father's guards?"

[The Painted Lady]

The girl's eyes darkened and she looked down. There was a long pause before she spoke.
"My troop was attacked," she said finally, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, knees to her chest. Her voice was bitter.
"They killed the men and tortured the women. They only left the young and the old, then they took me with them."
She looked up at him.
"They kept telling me I was the lucky one as they dragged me here."

[Tifa Lockhart]

Atemu choked on his fruit and accidentally crushed the rest in his hand.
"So he didn't listen to me... foolish old man." His voice was very snarl like at the end. Atemu then turned his warm goldish gaze onto the gypsy and gave her a gentle smile of apology.
"My father is a senile old man with outdated beliefs... i tried to talk him out of his nomadic purge... he doesn't believe it a worthy lifestyle... but apparently he didn't listen."

[The Painted Lady]

The gypsy girl held the Prince's gaze for a moment, before looking down.
"Hm."
Apologies were fine and all, but she wasn't looking for any. They did nothing to reverse what had been done.

[Tifa Lockhart]

Funny how someone often voices exactly what you were just thinking, as if they had read your mind.
"I know apologies wont fix the wrong my father has done you. But i hope that you'll see we're not all bad."

[The Painted Lady]

The girl looked up to him, a little surprised at how his words had mirrored her thoughts. She shrugged.
"I guess we'll see..."

[Tifa Lockhart]

"Indeed." The Prince mused as he stood, the dying rays of sunlight glinting off the golden banding that wrapped around his ankles and wrists.
"May i inquire as to my guest's name?" He said, his gaze lingering over by the window where the sunlight filtered through as it set.

[The Painted Lady]

The girl suppressed her sigh, tempted not to give her name at all. Stupidly enough, it felt as if doing so would show obedience.
"It's Saira," she said finally, deciding it'd be unwise to ignore the Prince of Egypt.

[Tifa Lockhart]

The Prince turned his gaze back to the Gypsy woman and smiled warmly.
"I am pleased to meet you Saira. I promise that as long as i have a say, you will not be harmed by anyone."