Aulfr stared after Aleksandra, unsure of what she was doing. It wasn’t everyday that she said something so serious, so… personal? They often talked about other things, usually relating to death in one way or another, but their affection was generally physical.

It lit both warmth and unease in his belly, and the very fact of it set him at even more unease.

Watching her recede into the bathroom, he turned to something more immediate, more material, and much simpler. Striding over to his wardrobe, he threw it open and stared at his assorted weapons collection. Reaching in, he withdrew the one thing that really drew Aleksandra’s interest- the khopesh.

Holding it in his hand, he studied it. A sword whose purpose was primarily offense- it would suit him, since he did not usually go on the defensive. His opponents never had time to force him to the defensive, not when he would press them as much as possible. A good swordsman could bide their time and wait for him to tire out, and many have attempted to do just that- but they usually found their throat held at the tip of his sword before they saw a proper, exploitable opening.

Fitting the khopesh to his hand and swinging it a little, he decided he’d use it. And, of course, Aleksandra is going to help him. The khopesh is not his usual specialty, and will be plenty enough to throw his father off guard.

So, khopesh in hand, he strolled over to his bed and flopped down, waiting for his partner to finish with her self-cleaning.