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Resting her chin on the back of her hand, Throné watched Agnea from the other side of Tropu'hopu's tavern. It was a fairly small tavern, but Throné had found a secluded corner in which to lurk while Agnea chatted happily with Hikari and Ochette. During their journeys together, she had found herself watching Agnea, and more often than not her gaze lingered upon Agnea's throat.
When they had met in New Delsta, the first thing Throné had noticed about Agnea was her bare throat. It wasn't so unusual, Throné knew - Castti and Ochette didn't wear necklaces either - but Agnea's dress also baring her arms and shoulders made the exposed flesh of that unadorned throat all the more tantalizing.
Throné touched the dark collar around her own throat, and it felt tighter than usual these days. Again her eyes fell upon Agnea's slender throat, so exposed and vulnerable, and heat crept to her cheeks as she tried not to be obvious with her staring. This feeling wasn't quite jealousy, she had realized - she did envy Agnea and the loving, peaceful life she had led, of that there was no doubt - but rather it was a feeling more like yearning or even desire. Agnea turned her head toward Ochette, a faint sheen of sweat on her throat from Tropu'hopu's humidity. Throné swallowed dryly; she wondered how that skin would feel against her fingertips, her palm pressed against Agnea's throat. If she were closer, perhaps she would even see the pulse beating within that lovely throat.
Hikari spoke, and Agnea turned her head toward him. She and Ochette listened intently, but Throné was too focused on the sight of Agnea's throat to pay attention to what they were saying. Her mind ran down a familiar fantasy, of brushing her fingers over Agnea's throat and feeling that soft, warm skin for herself. She could even imagine herself curling her fingers around that slender throat, Agnea's pulse quickening against her palm. Agnea's breath would hitch as Throné simply held her throat, but not squeezing - unless, of course, that was what Agnea wanted. For all of Agnea's innocent veneer, perhaps she had some more daring desires than one might assume.
Heat coiled deep within Throné, and she crossed her legs uncomfortably. Her fantasies had grown stronger and more vivid these past few days, but so rarely had she the opportunities to indulge her imagination like this. She could pin Agnea down, Agnea smiling sweetly at her as she pressed her lips to Agnea's exposed throat, free and unmarred by any poisoned collar. She would kiss the hollow of Agnea's throat, letting her lips linger on that tender flesh as she trailed upwards, and she would be sure to plant a kiss over Agnea's racing pulse and feel her very life itself. Maybe Throné would even bite the skin a little bit, leaving just the slightest of marks, a mark that only she and Agnea would notice. What sweet moans Agnea would make, Throné could scarcely imagine. However, she could imagine herself taking Agnea's beautiful throat into her hand and then forcing Agnea's chin upwards with her thumb, and she'd press her lips to Agnea's—
"She truly does fascinate you, doesn't she?" came Temenos' flippant yet guarded voice, rudely cutting through Throné's imagination.
She held back a sigh as she glanced up at him. "You could say that," she said carefully. There was little use in denying the subject of her attention, but for all of Temenos' ability to read others like an open book, it could be frustrating how guarded he was about his own thoughts.
Temenos sat beside Throné, wearing that unreadable yet too knowing smile of his. "If you wish to speak with Agnea, you only need to say so. She'll not refuse you."
"…It's fine," Throné muttered. In some ways, however, it was almost relaxing not to have to bother being so guarded around Temenos. Still, that didn't mean she had to make things easy for him.
A quiet chuckle fell from Temenos' lips. "Her performance on the floating stage tonight was wonderful. I may not be one for dancing, but it's simply fascinating how she can energize a crowd with only a few movements."
"The audience rather liked your performance too," Throné teased, a smirk tugging at her lips.
"A small price to pay for information." Temenos waved his hand dismissively, although his own smirk matched Throné's. "Though, one does not usually make a star out of someone trying to coerce them for information…"
Throné simply chuckled, tracing her fingers along the rim of her glass. She glanced at Castti, Osvald, and Partitio at one table, and then again at Agnea, Hikari, and Ochette at another. The eight of them made for a truly strange group traveling together, but stranger still was that Throné found herself enjoying their company, even Temenos'. They weren't Donnie, Pirro, or Scaracci, that was undeniable, but maybe things would turn out differently this time around. Her eyes locked with Agnea's, and her face grew warmer when Agnea smiled brightly at her.
Temenos' smirk widened as he waved to Agnea, and she jumped to her feet and strode over to his and Throné's table. Throné shot a brief glare at him, but he pointedly ignored her as he stood and offered his chair to Agnea. "Your performance earlier was splendid," he said as Agnea sat beside Throné. "Wouldn't you agree, Throné?"
"Of course," Throné said evenly, and this close to Agnea, all those fantasies came rushing back. Her eyes traveled down the length of Agnea's throat toward that modest cleavage, and her heart pounded loudly against her ribs.
"Why, thank you!" Agnea beamed. "Giselle's troupe was really good too, and so was your performance, Teme—" She stopped, realizing that Temenos had already slipped away. "…Temenos?"
"Slippery bastard," Throné muttered, spotting Temenos with Ochette and Hikari, and he only flashed her a brief smirk.
Yet Agnea simply giggled as she leaned closer to Throné, their shoulders brushing together for the lightest of touches. "Well, that just means I can spend more time with you, Throné!"
Throné couldn't speak for a moment. Strands of hair stuck to the back of Agnea's neck, damp from all this humidity, and Throné had to suppress the urge to reach out and brush those strands away. Agnea was close, too close, and her bare throat too inviting. "I may not be much for conversation, though," she managed to force out.
"That's okay!" Again Agnea smiled brightly, momentarily drawing Throné's attention away from her throat. "I wouldn't mind some peace and quiet right now either."
Throné took a sip of her ale, watching Agnea out of the corner of her eye, and were her instincts less honed, she might've missed the dip of Agnea's gaze toward her breasts. Or maybe it was just a fleeting glance at the poisoned collar around her throat, but then she noted the faint blush upon Agnea's cheeks.
As the silence lingered, Throné spoke again. "This is a rather peaceful town," she said, recalling her earlier conversation with Agnea. "You said it's like your hometown?"
"Well, Cropdale isn't quite as bustling." Agnea let out a faint giggle, touching her braid over her shoulder. "Or as humid."
"Could you tell me more about Cropdale?"
Agnea's expression brightened, and Throné listened closely as she spoke of raspberries, peaches, festivals, and the quiet times between said festivals. Throné rested her chin on the back of her hand, and again her attention was drawn to Agnea's throat. Slender and elegant, and stronger still was her desire to touch that throat, to draw her fingers along the length of it and feel each and every breath Agnea took. A lovely throat, exposed and unbound, free of any unwanted collar. Agnea was free, free to reach for her own dreams. Throné bit her lip; but the yearning she felt now was not simply that for freedom. This attraction was no mere metaphor.
So easily could she imagine wrapping her fingers around Agnea's thin throat and pressing her lips to that tender flesh. If Agnea could read her thoughts…
"Throné?" Agnea said carefully, and worry had replaced her smile. "Your cheeks are flushed. Are you feeling okay?"
"You weren't exaggerating about this humidity," Throné replied quickly. She stretched her arms, and this time she was certain she spotted Agnea's eyes darting to her cleavage. She wasn't unused to people staring at her breasts, but she also noted the slight smile upon Agnea's lips.
"U-Um, right," Agnea stammered, pink spreading across her cheeks. "And it has gotten rather late…"
"Then perhaps we should retire to the inn now." As Throné stood, she bent for a moment and folded her arms beneath her chest to ever so slightly empathize her cleavage, and Agnea's blush grew even deeper. Throné chuckled silently to herself; were it anyone else, she might've been affronted at such obvious staring, but Agnea's attention held a kind of sincerity, like true and honest desire, and Throné found she welcomed that attention.
The rest of their group had already left the tavern, and when Throné and Agnea stepped outside into the moonlit night, Agnea suddenly seized her hand, and she couldn't stop the surprise that flashed across her face. Agnea knew how bloodstained Throné's hands were, and that she was still so freely affectionate often startled Throné. But she didn't dislike it either.
"I'm glad you're here, really," Agnea said softly. She raised her chin to meet Throné's gaze, and her throat was fair against the moonlight. "I know you're worried about me, with how you've been watching me lately and all, but when I'm with you, I know there's nothing to be afraid of."
Throné inhaled sharply; she hadn't considered the possiblity of Agnea noticing her staring. She stole another glance at Agnea's bare, vulnerable throat, and let out a heavy sigh. "Do you truly think so highly of me? You know what I've done, and what I must do to obtain the keys to this collar."
"I told you earlier, you're strong and kind, and I want to help you." With a faint smile Agnea pressed her hand to Throné's cheek. "I know it'll be hard, but that just makes hope even more important. That's what my mother would say."
Throné's breath hitched, that gentle touch of Agnea's sending a jolt down her spine. She curled her fingers around Agnea's hand and brought it to her throat, and slowly Agnea ran her fingers along the soft cloth of Throné's poisoned collar. Throné inhaled sharply; no one else had touched this collar since Mother had first put it on her over a decade ago. She then raised her free hand, her fingertips just barely brushing against the side of Agnea's neck before cupping her cheek. "You're a strange girl," Throné bent to whisper into Agnea's ear, "but thank you, truly."
Agnea smiled sweetly and took Throné's hand into hers, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. The roads ahead of them were still long, but perhaps someday they would finally be able to bare their hearts to one another. Thus Throné hoped.