Amora looked on at the glowing orb slowly sinking into the horizon, feeling Drinian pet her hair gently. She glanced over at Drinian, smiling lightly. She could see him stiffen at the sound of a trumpet from a ways away, she looked at him with slight concern. He seemed to brush the worry off and leaned in to whisper to her. She smiled kindly, but the idea he had sounded odd to her. Her as the master? Drinian, a servant?<br/><br/>"Milord- Drinian... you don't have to..." She was quick to recall how unusual it would be to call him by what she would normally call him on such an unprofessional grounds. It was worry, anxiety of being caught afterwards. She was quiet as the boat came to a stop.