Logistics

"Awake."

Saris shook herself.

"I'm glad that we could talk, Saris. Hopefully I was able to put some of those concerns to rest."

She put her fingers lightly against her temple, bracing herself against his desk.

"Um, yeah- yes. Thank you. I- um. Ms. Shiavereth's confidence in you seems to be warrented."

She looked up at him, really looked at him. She tried to be as calculating as her position demanded, always weighing, judging, finding wanting. But when she looked at him none of that cold assessment could be brought to use. She looked at him, and felt soft warmth and comfort. She felt unencumbered by the distrust and guardedness that she had spent her considerable life and career cultivating. She felt stupid.

The sudden desire to take this man was shameful and unbecoming of someone of her station. She pressed down on the feeling rising from somewhere deep and forbidden inside her.

"I'd love to take you for dinner sometime."

Why am I speaking?!?! I should be on guard not inviting him to dinner maybe by candlelight- No! Stop.

"Sounds fantastic. Where did you want to go?" He was relaxed. Confident.

"I- um. I'll send you the details. You- you have work, I'm sure. I've surely taken up enough of your time."

She practically dove past him. Her matriarchs would be disgusted with her, and as the door closed behind her, her heart thudded. And it continued to hammer away at her chest until she returned to her office after a very long elevator ride to the top floor of the massive black skyscraper.

The rest of the day blurred together. She spent a considerable amount of time trying to decide what restaurant to take him to but found each of them wanting, dismissed after a moments examination.

She considered it.

If she couldn’t pick out a restaurant to her exacting standards- she would just have to do it herself. Gwenneth had repeated something back to her just the last week. She remembered her own apprenticeship, being **** to learn every trade that a subordinate under her would be required to perform.

She could cook him dinner.

It was so... intimate. The idea of doting on him with a homecooked meal made her flush. And afterwards...

She tried to stop the thought. _I have no business being so disgustingly... giddy._ But the thoughts came anyways, bringing butterflies to her chest and a surprising weakness to her knees.

A quick series of messages sent her home staff home early for the night.

Then she texted Arthur.