“Hmmm…” Osa nodded slowly to Théadan’s explanation as to why he was in Khlurios, though her gaze did not lose the scrutinizing expression. She eyed him shrewdly, her hands shifting under his so their palms rubbed slightly. Osa said nothing for a long period, her eyes closing and her thumbs coming around to press on the backs of Théadan’s hands. It pushed their palms together more, the scars in his palms more apparent to her, but she said nothing but hum lowly, thoughtfully. There was much to learn of the wayward Mes’Mo’Tanian prince and she did not want to be distracted by what there was to know.<br/><br/>Through all of it, watching Osa with Théadan made Navia more restless than she would have thought. She fidgeted in her seat, fingers drumming against the plush sofa she sat upon, and she pursed her lips together to try to keep from speaking before finally sighing, “He would probably answer any question you ask—“<br/><br/>“Hush, child,” Osa interrupted, never opening her eyes and her voice muted, “He is telling me enough.”<br/><br/>Unable to abide by Osa’s demand she sit on the couch any longer, Navia rolled her eyes and abruptly stood. She crossed over to sit beside Théadan, giving a nearby pillow a nudge with her foot until it was lined up with the one he sat upon. She sat beside him in silence, scanning his face before reaching out to place a hand on his thigh.<br/><br/>The instant Navia did, Osa’s eyes snapped open and she scowled over at them. “Do not touch him right now,” she groused, lowering her hands from Théadan’s to break the connection until Navia withdrew her touch from him. With a huff, Osa’s gaze jumped over to Théadan as she resituated her hands, “I have never met a more stubborn woman than the one you choose to be with.” She closed her eyes once more, focusing her attention on what Théadan’s hands could tell her.<br/><br/>“That’s because she can’t meet herself,” Navia whispered to Théadan, leaning close but making sure not to touch him, her brown eyes amused.<br/><br/>“Death surrounds you,” Osa announced all at once, causing Navia to jump slightly though if Osa noticed, she said nothing on it. Her mismatched eyes opened to study Théadan, the gray one unfocused, “Many have died by your hand, but I sense reluctance, guilt. Especially around the death of our General.” With that said, Osa’s gaze shifted to Navia quizzically, but Navia merely nodded a silent answer that she knew. “And of your brother,” Osa continued to eye Navia curiously, “But these are not the hands that ended his life.” She did not wait for a response from Navia however, instead carefully turning Théadan’s hands so his palms were facing upward. Osa leaned over them, studying the pale, scarred skin.<br/><br/>“Scars,” she said quietly, “One does not need gifts to know your plight, Théadan Rúl. Your pain is for all to see.” A single gnarled fingertip trailed along the length of the scar in his right palm, “The one who gave you these scars…also gave Navia one of her own.” Osa glanced up to look first at Théadan, then Navia, “Yet he is no longer a threat.”  The older woman went on, her finger deviating from the scar to follow one of the natural lines in Théadan’s palm, “You may be here to be with Navia, you may want to be with her in her home country to avoid sufferings in your own, but your pain is not over yet. There is suffering yet to be had and it will come at the hand of someone close.” Osa sat back some, eying Théadan’s face thoughtfully before her good eye’s focus centered just below his eye. Her age-weathered hand rose up, fingers tracing the scar there, “A middle son of the crown, perhaps? I sense...darkness...helplessness..." Alarm briefly flashed in Osa's eyes as she glanced Navia's way before asking Théadan, "What is his behavior toward your lover? Would he attempt revenge? Would he endanger her life?”