i want to believe it's not too late for me

Ozias is up to his ears in paperwork. Thanks to Vashti's bright idea to suggest a very much unadvised proposal while on a diplomatic trip she'd refused to let him accompany her on—something about everything falling apart here if they were both gone—he now has to draw up contracts and agreements and send letters on Sestrala's behalf. He isn't angry with Vashti, not truly, but he is somewhere between frustrated and exasperated. He knows that a foreigner—not even an As'dra native, at that!—arriving to marry the peoples' beloved prince will start a buzz amongst nobleborns and commoners alike. If they aren't careful, it will be received poorly, especially given that Kasra is one of very few eligible bachelors within Sestralan hierarchy.

Ozias neither considers himself eligible, nor a bachelor.

With a soft sigh, he leans back in his seat as he watches the last messenger bird for the evening blip from existence out the window, destined for the desert. He props one forepaw against the edge of his desk and pushes the other through the long locks of his mane that were hanging over his eye, failing to notice that his paw is ink-stained and leaves a smear of black through the pale strands. Then he's back at it, the candle burning lower the longer he works into the night on various documents.

He sometimes intentionally avoids leaving his office to return to his chambers, preferring to sleep on the plush couch than anywhere else that stirs up memories he is eager to forget. Tonight, however, Ozias never even makes it to the couch. He doesn't realize that his eyelids are growing heavier, his pen slowing, until he's eventually fallen asleep half laid across the desk, his cheek pressed into the still-wet ink of the parchment and the quill dangling precariously between his fingers over the edge.

This isn't the first time this has happened, but it has been a while since he let his exhaustion grow until he's falling asleep in places he shouldn't. His breaths are slow and even, though his back will certainly yell at him whenever he awakens, and the flickering of the low candle suggests it's about to burn itself out.

Vashti