This feels wonderful. It's the nicest Kazelia has felt in...in...can we count years in the great void that's outside of worlds? Was it a thousand years ago when she left her mother's? She did keep telling Ourania that the age competition would be close, but then again how do yo count it? Let's say simply that when she was small in a far away lodge a long time ago, her mother would brush her hair in the evening. She didn't cut it when she was small, she just let it grow out, long, thick and dark back then, full of luster and shine as it pooled around her waist when she knelt at her mother's feet. She'd normally wear it up during the game in a big ponytail or all curled up. But at night she would let it out and her mother would sit and brush through it. Calmly, gently, and evenly, sitting on the bed above her. It was the most wonderful thing in all the world and Kazelia hasn't felt that since she left with her Father. He would never do such a thing, his hands weren't suited for tenderness. And while Asteria or Ninian might offer on occasion, they were rough with the snarls and too quick to be done. 

Rita is an expert though. She brushes out Kazelia's white hair and you'd think the Rider were melting into her chair so fully does she relax into the brush strokes. Kazelia hums in a low murmur that might leave it up to doubt which of the two of them is the one purring. Perhaps both. 

And then when that's done, the tea is some kind of Askaian chai. hints of cardamom mixed with milk and sweet brown sugar. Kazelia laps it up even though she blushes as she does it because it's so delicious. 

Even the scarf feels just right. Azora would have silk of course, and so it's thin and gauzy over her lips when Rita isn't letting her drink, and after she was punished for her little magical show of resistance, she's careful to just drink and not talk while Rita works so it won't be interrupted. 

Yes, this could go on forever. That would be fine. Just fine.