A smile pinned the corners of his lips as she made her response, to which he shook his head. There were countless possessions here belonging to Eliphas Dune, second born son of Oskar Dune, but they would be of little use to him out there in the greater Galaxy at large. Trinkets and baubles and general tat that had been bought for the sake of it. To spend money, to waste their wealth, as gifts from parties hoping to curry favour with their noble House. Trappings and belongings he barely looked upon, barely touched.
"I have experience with packing light," he assured her, with an inclination of his head to add to the sincerity. His time aboard The Atale had taught him such, doubly so after it's untimely demise. After that he'd had only what he could carry. The boy had learned a lot, wicked away much of his privilege to see the reality of the Galaxy underneath the opulence he'd known. It had changed him. Hopefully for the better.
"I shall meet you outside shortly." After that, the pair went their separate ways. Valery to find his Father and Eliphas toward his room. The interior of it seemed like more of a shrine these days, a treasure trove which held not just his actual belongings but items which had been presented at his empty casket funeral. To look upon them made him feel nauseous. He focused instead on gathering a few changes of clothes.
Beyond the necessary items, there was one other thing he brought into his possession. A crystal necklace attached to some natural cording, accidentally taken in the aftermath of their tangling with the Witch of Alderaan. He hadn't ever informed
Starlin Rand
that he'd found it in his pocket later that day, he'd felt honestly guilty even when the previous owner had tried to run them both through for a bracelet. The necklace had almost cost him his life.
And he'd never given it to its intended recipient before she'd lost hers.
Perhaps he ought to have left it behind. He didn't. It settled into his pocket, and once he was satisfied with all he'd packed he turned and made his way back out. The boy paused only when he heard a sound from another room close to his own, that belonging to his sister. He felt certain he'd heard something breaking inside.
He crossed that threshold with little fanfare or warning, and found young Annalis knelt on the ground surrounded by shards of ceramic. Her eyes were red, her cheeks puffy, though when she looked toward him her expression tried to steel itself. Too late, he thought, Much too late... He knelt down before her, and silently helped with the gathering of those shards. They remained like that for a short time, picking at the smaller pieces which threatened to dig into their fingertips, silent in one another's company.
She was the first to break that silence.
"I don't want you to leave" the young girl had whispered, so quietly that he'd had to strain to hear her despite the short distance between them. "I know" he retorted. His tone was careful, though he couldn't keep the adoration from his voice. "You were supposed to come home sooner" she added. Her eyes flicked up from the ground, and she stuck him with a hard stare.
His own softened in response. "I tried to, Liss." She held him there for a moment with her puffy eyes, then got right back to gathering up the ceramic. "It was so quiet here without you. Everyone's always so... busy." His heart broke for her. Eliphas knew that loneliness all too well, it came with the territory of their position. Their birthright.
The boy didn't respond. Instead he set aside the shards he'd been holding and delicately took his sister's hand. She didn't fight him when he rose up and took her with him, leading her back out into the hallway and toward the room he'd thought he'd taken his final look at. Pushing the door open, he peered down at her.
"You can have it, if you'd like. Do with it all as you please." She didn't seem convinced, so he led her further inside. "You see that bookcase?" he inquired, with a gesture to one which was set against the wall furthest from them. Lissa nodded. "There's one red book upon it. If you're feeling lonely, pull it."
"What will happen if I do?" she asked, sadness momentarily cast aside in favour of unbridled curiosity. "There's a stairwell leading down to the servant's lounge," he explained, with a knowing smile, "At any hour of the day you'll find someone in there. Maybe Miss Nadine, or Gren. And they have boardgames, and tea on request, and they'll sit and talk if you ask them to." He reached out, turning her face toward him when she just stared at that hidden doorway. Offered her a tender smile.
"I know it's tough, little sis, but you're never really alone in this place. Besides, they're looking for that company too. Imagine their surprise when you patter on in." She hugged him close, no words necessary in that embrace, and he pressed his cheek into her curly hair. "Just... Don't tell mum or dad, okay?"
Lissa nodded in understanding. He gave it a few more moments, before pulling back. Holding her at arms length, he regarded her with a soft expression. "You haven't seen the last of me, you know?" he assured her. That brought something of a pout to her lips. "I tried to make something move," the girl confessed, "with my mind, you know, like the stories said. When we were in the room with that woman." Eliphas' eyebrows arched at that revelation, it had looked to him as though his sister had been hoping and praying for the opposite. "I wish I could come with you..."
He kissed her forehead. Deep down he was glad she couldn't. Glad that she'd remain safe here in his absence. Empress Teta was a haven. She deserved a haven. He dropped his hands from her shoulders, and simply responded with a knowing, empathetic look. "Come on... I'll help you with that vase."
When he came upon Valery once more, out there in the courtyard, it seemed as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He appeared lighter, more contented than he had when they'd departed the planetarium. Burdened by just one backpack, flung over a shoulder, it looked as though he'd done a fine job trimming away the fat of his inheritance. The remaining farewells would be far easier than the one he'd been dreading the most.
