It was another bright, beautiful day in Gallia, and another afternoon where Caineghis and Giffca were trapped in the king’s office, going over paperwork and proposals and performing other unexciting governingly activities. A gentle breeze blew through the window —propped open by a potted plant presented to Caineghis by a visiting vizier that he’d grown attached to as it grew under his care— but the fresh air that flew in did little to freshen up what had become a routine and rather regular part of their day-to-day duties.

“I’ll be taking these to the archives,” Alammus, their assistant, gestured to the stack of paperwork she had finished preparing, “Is there anything else that needs to be brought over?”

Caineghis looked over to Giffca, who shook his head.

“Feel free to head on home afterwards,” Caineghis said with a smile, “Giffca and I can handle the rest.”

Alammus picked up her pile and nodded, her expression as placid as it always was.

“By your leave.”

She shut the door behind her, leaving the two lions alone.

Caineghis stretched his arms forwards, clasping his hands together as he slowly brought them up above his head and then just a bit further. He held that pose for a long moment, his chest stretching as he held his breath, and then with a deep, long exhale he released his hands and let his arms drift back down to the desk where they had begun.

He glanced back over at Giffca, who had watched him go through the entire stretch, and chuckled, hoping he enjoyed the show.

“She’s grown into her role quite a bit, don’t you think?”

Alammus had recently stepped up to fill a staffing vacancy left by her predecessor going on paternity leave, and it was nice to not be down a pair of hands.

“She’s a little… overly serious, but she does her job well.”

“You, of all people, think someone else is too serious? Have you fallen ill?”

“She reminds me of myself when I was younger. Don’t pretend you haven’t made that connection too.”

Caineghis pouted.

“It’s unfair to use our long and storied history against me when I’m trying to give you a hard time!”

“Get back to work, Ghis.”

“I think we have time for a little break,” he said, standing up.

“I won’t help you work overtime.”

“Mhm,” Caineghis mumbled, a bit unconvinced as he made his way over to the window.

The plant, a fern by the name of nexaltata, was growing well. The fronds were a vibrant shade of green, and it added a nice bit of color to the office, but if Caineghis had a single complaint with the plant, it was that it was such a thirsty little beast. Speaking of which…

There it was! The fern had come with a specially-made metal can designed for watering plants, and as Caineghis sprinkled water on the fern’s fronds, he remarked on how Gallia’s metallurgy has been falling behind lately. Beorc countries needed metalworkers for their swords and spears and such, but the craft hadn’t been as popular in Gallia due to the abundance of pre-existing arms and, of course, the sharp pointy bits at the end of them.

Claws and chompers could only get you so far, though. Surely tools like this watering can would enrich the lives of Gallia’s citizens, would they not? And if they could produce them domestically, that’d be even better! Perhaps they could do some sort of… craftsman exchange program, like the upcoming soldier exchange with Crimea? An idea to refine and propose later, for sure.

His mind continued to wander as he watered. From one subject to another, his thoughts danced around until he eventually recalled one particular—

“What’s that smirk for?” Giffca rudely interrupted his daydreams.

“Hm?”

“You’re thinking of something.”

Caineghis rolled his eyes.

“I’m always thinking about something.”

“It’s an idea that you’re particularly fond of, but know I won’t like, so you’re trying to hide it.”

“On what grounds are you making these claims, great inquisitor?”

“I’ve spent the past century learning the exact meaning of each and every tiny expression you make. Confess.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Giffca stood up from his desk and began his journey over to where Caineghis stood over by the window.

“You wanted to rile me up, didn’t you?” Giffca continued to approach, his neutral expression shifting to a slight, sardonic frown, “I hate to concede defeat to you, but…”

Giffca took another step closer to Caineghis, who tried to step back but bumped into the windowsill. Giffca arms came down, pinning Caineghis in place, then he leaned further forwards, his mouth drawing close to Caineghis’ ear, perhaps a little too close. Definitely too close. Giffca’s breath was hot, Caineghis’ heart pounding as he tried to lean just a bit further back, get a little more space, sure he could squeeze in that tiny bit of extra leeway before he was actually extending out the window, maybe just enough to bring his hand up to Giffca’s chest and push him away, maybe enough to—

“I’ve been riled,” Giffca whispered.

He waited a moment, letting Caineghis stew for a bit longer, and then pulled back, giving Caineghis all the room he wanted.

“Okay, okay,” Caineghis let out a sigh of relief as the tension melted away, “You win.”

“…And?”

“You remember Theodoric? Visited a few months ago? Gave me this plant?”

“Vaguely.”

“We had gotten on the topic of metalcraft, and, well, of some recent Crimean creations. One of them was this ‘watering can’ that he had brought along as another gift.”

“Clever.”

“It wasn’t my first rodeo and I didn’t let myself get swept off my feet, so cut me some slack. Even I can tell when people approach me with ulterior motives, Giffca. Anyway, one of the other inventions he mentioned was a device for correcting the alignment of one’s teeth. It was called a dental retainer.”

“Ah.”

“…Pardon?”

“You’ve been smiling a bit more whenever you’ve introduced me as your retainer lately, and it’s not a smile far enough from devious as I’d like it to be.”

“…Seriously? I have?”

Caineghis couldn’t believe it. Well… he could believe it, but it still caught him off guard how little he could hide from Giffca.

“And you noticed? How?"

“I am your retainer, aren’t I? I have to keep a close eye on you so I can correct your course if you veer away from where you should be.”

Giffca looked at Caineghis, awaiting his response.

“…You could’ve at least let me say the punchline myself,” he grumbled.

“But that can’t just be it,” Giffca grabbed his chin and looked to the side, deep in thought, “That simple wordplay wouldn’t have carried this thought for much more than a week.”

He looked back up at Caineghis, who was suddenly looking significantly more evasive than he had been a moment before. Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place.

“Explain.”

“What?”

“Explain.”

Giffca stepped forward again, rushing almost as he returned to his previous position, pinning down Caineghis.

“Well, I… er…” Caineghis looked away, sheepishly, “I realized another similarity between you and a dental retainer.”

Giffca waited.

“You’re really going to make me say it?”

“If it has something to do with me or something to do with how you introduce me? Yes.”

Caineghis thought about stalling. Thought of every single possible thing he could possibly come up with that might have a chance of getting him out of this situation without actually answering the question, but no excuse in Tellius could possibly stand a chance against his retainer.

“…It’s because they can both go into my mouth,” he mumbled.

Giffca closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out.

Caineghis finally looked back at Giffca and winced.

He was mad. He wasn’t showing it on his face, but he was fuming. Furious, but trying to fight the urge to pick Caineghis up and piledrive him out the window. He was pissed.

Giffca took a step back and opened his eyes, his gaze filled with disappointment and a hint of disapproval.

“By the Goddess, are you still a whelp?” He bellowed, “That’s what you’ve been thinking of when you’ve been talking about me?”

“It’s not my fault you’re—!”

Caineghis caught himself before he shouted some incredibly intimately personal information out the window, knowing it’d only make his position far worse.

“We’re coming up with something else. Another word. Something that doesn’t broadcast that you have your mind in the gutter. Something with the slightest hint of restraint.”

“Fine…”

Caineghis had lost this round.

“And only after you finish your paperwork!”

“Aaugh!” he wailed.

Caineghis had lost big time.