<i>Sunglows</i>. Emris found it to be a fitting name for the flowers: as if someone had dared to reach up and pluck off bits of the sun. It was a shame they were marred by the stigma surrounding magic, given how useful they could be.<br/><br/>Hunger momentarily forgotten, he leaned forward, arm resting idly on the edge of the desk between the two of them, his face perched on his hand, silent. The change that came over Bazel when he talked of plants had Emris not wanting to interrupt. There was something almost hypnotic about the man’s gold flecked gaze. A trick of the light perhaps, but Emris could swear they seemed to glitter, as if someone had sprinkled bits of sunshine into the Prince’s eyes.<br/><br/>He wasn’t all that surprised that Bazel's views of witches weren't that of the majority. If Emris had learned anything about the other man in the short time that they'd been together was that he wasn't what one would expect of a person of noble birth. He fit none of the preconceptions. Nothing like Emris had expected. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. So the thought that anyone could see Bazel as a monster? He couldn’t imagine it. The concept a strange and not all together pleasant one. "People tend to fear what they don't understand,” he said, knowing that he was guilty of doing the same. He tended too avoid it. An out of sight, out of mind type of mentality. Magic and everything it represented made him hesitant, fearful even. And yet he wasn't so closed-minded as to label all witches as bad people. As monsters. With a clear distinction between good and bad. Were the world so black and white, there wouldn’t be a need for grey.<br/><br/>A small smile ghosted over Emris’ lips at Bazel’s comparison of plants to people. "It’s why I prefer the company of animals, less puzzling.” Less exhausting too. With animals, one didn't have to watch their words, didn’t have to read between lines. Animals were honest, straightforward. People, not so much.<br/><br/>“You should ramble more.” Attention focused on the tray of food, Emris busied himself with stuffing as much cheese as would fit into his bread before meeting Bazel’s gaze, “ Your thoughts are…different.” He was curious about the other man, wanted to discover more of the inner workings of his mind. It wasn’t everyday that one got to have a conversation with a prince.<br/><br/>In no rush to return to his room Emris kept Bazel company well into the night. Yes, he was tired, was aware that the prince likely wanted to be alone, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave just yet. It was only after the third time of jerking awake did he finally accept that it was time he left the man alone. Still, he hesitated, blurting out before he could stop himself, “Would you come with me back through the tunnels?” It was difficult, but he forced himself to meet the Prince’s eyes. He hated it. Hated that he’d asked. Hated that something as simple as walking through some damned passages left him trembling at just the thought of it. Hated it for the weakness that it was. Hated that he couldn’t simply will it away. He almost wanted Bazel to refuse to accompany him.