Some time later, baths being timeless as they are. Whether you are in them, and the time vanishes into the awesome feeling of steam and soap... or out of them and waiting on someone and the time stretches out beyond the far distance and beyond the middle distance into the really-impatient distance.
Mor left the cooling water, which thankfully had been replaced many times by new and fresh water and new and fresh soap, and sung clothes from sunlight and buckles from the moon, and a sword from her lack of wit.
She stared at an uncomfortable servant but his gaze wasn't vacant enough to see her reflection. So she wandered around until she found a tired mother and used her gaze which was quite empty and clear as a mirror.
Once she adjusted her hair she whispered something to the mother and handed her a small bag of coin and the mother's vague was a lot less vacant.
Anyhow, now that Mor was properly refreshed and dressed and dapper she hummed up boots from the hopes of frogs and went to find the bride she was to escort.
Lucinda was at that moment inspecting the already loaded wagons for the sixty seventh time. She'd loaded them with scriptures and books, not with the vapid adornments her many many advisors suggested.
Mor had planned, (rapidly considered as she approached in a fit of whimsy, (which was about as close as she ever got to planning)), on just sitting and watching Lucinda deal with her advisors while drinking in the morning dew.
But Lucinda, who could, sometimes, be quite observant saw Mor and used her as an escape route from the unending negotiations on proper etiquette. Which was a shockingly apt use of Mor as she had never once been introduced to proper etiquette despite many people attempting to arrange a date between her and it.
"Ah, my heavenly escort, you surely know the preferences of heaven. What is more prized there? Scripture? Or perfumes? Which would you take? Books or dresses? Please advise us on the right course for loading the wagons Oh Benevolent One."
Mor blinked. Then blinked again. Then tilted her head birdlike and blinked perhaps a fifth time.
Lucinda hadn't said that with even a hummingbird's tiny whiff of sarcasm. Hummingbirds can occasionally be sarcastic, and when they are its hard to tell. They are quite fierce quite direct creatures though usually. So a whiff of a hummingbird's sarcasm is a quite tiny unit indeed.
But equally disconcerting, Lucinda had asked two very opposite questions.
What would heaven prefer.... and what would Mor prefer.....
Considering the opposing natures of those questions might have been a good exercise for Mor. A means of investigating her own motives and personality and perhaps meditating on what drove her as a being and why she existed.
But being who she was, she instead focused on her amazement that someone could, without sarcasm, without irony, call her, or really anyone, "Oh Benevolent One". She tried to consider how she'd manage the feat. This truly was a miracle of sorts.
A being this sincere....
"You are amazing."
The words made it out of her mouth with little effort. There were of course no guards on her mouth like most beings have to prevent them saying something foolish or embarrassing. She'd never bothered to hire any.
And until that moment. Mor didn't think she'd ever felt embarrassed. But she was. Because she had just committed the ultimate sin.
She had been sincere... in public.
Lucinda didn't pick up on it, she said things like that all the time and so someone else being sincere didn't even ping her radar.
The advisors didn't pick up on it, although they thought it odd.
But the rest of creation present to witness it? Every plant froze. Every insect froze. Cats hid under their paws. Dogs, which don't have any sense of social anything, just pranced and wagged their tails, excited but unsure why.
And far far away, at a coffee shop with his boyfriend, a older man in a overly floral shirt and white hair smiled into his coffee.