Stare let herself smile a little and nod as she turned. “I don't know,” she admitted. “My family is all dead, and I've never had friends until I came to this city. I'll see you later, Nevin.”

Then quietly, she slipped out, satisfied to hear the soft sound of his sleeping. She crept out and left the area of the balcony, peering down at the bright lights that still spoke of the house's life. It was late, that was clear, hours had passed really since they had been back. Nevin knew that Vitruvion was a god - Stare honestly didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing, but at least for now, it was just a fact. Also there was confirmation now of what Raevin had begun in her mind some time ago - that idea of Vitruvion actually trusting her on an instinctive level and now building up forms of trust, so passionately and possessively, but in a way that she could only learn to live with.
She heard slightly tense voices, and could only imagine the discussion Mer and he were having. Inwardly, she smiled, then continued onwards to her room, where she undressed to her under tunic, paused, then left herself just in her simple loin cloth. Nevin wouldn't even notice the fact she was naked on top if he needed to come in - nobody did with a kenku. Most were surprised there was actual breasts there at all, beneath the wild plumage. Easing her way down in between her covers she settled in for a quiet start of the night at least, entirely forgetting that Vitruvion had asked to speak to her afterwards.

Around half an hour later the door slipped open. Barely had she begun her sleep, and she started awake with a gasp. “Nevin!” she assumed, “Give me a second, I-”

“Move up,” came the soft voice.

She paused and drew around to stare right in his eyes. “Oh,” she whispered, gazing at the white haired man with utter surprise.

He waved a hand, hissing at her. “You are currently taking a large portion of the bed.”

“It is my bed,” she made her point.

“That I pay for,” he countered, and he bent down to unlace his boots. When she didn't move he looked right at her, brow rising. “Stare?”

He trusts you on an instinctive level. Deeper that you or he understand.

“Yeah,” she huffed and wriggled over, offering half of it up.

She was disgruntled by it, but his habit of crawling into her bed on nights where something of especial sensitivity had occurred was already preset. Begrudgingly, she knew she could not exactly refuse, and waited until the shirtless but trousered form slipped in behind her. A slight pause, then arms pulled around her form, tugging at her until she gave in and worked her way over.

“You seriously need to get yourself a girlfriend,” she muttered.

“No one would be good enough,” he whispered and curled against her. A small smile came to his lips. “You can sleep now.”

“Thanks, my lord,” she sarcastically said.

And that was all. The only thing to happen in the morning to bring new excitement was the entrance of a woman with hair the colour of a summer harvest. Exceptionally beautiful, gracious, and graceful, she asked the whereabouts of the red head staying in the house. Information got, she marched up to the first floor, and threw open the door. Then, she came close to the bed and folded her arms, waiting for him to wake up on his own.

It wouldn't be that long.