The sound of running water.
William sat down on the bed, looked out at the sparsely decorated room. Kaama was putting away clothes in the dresser.
" It's not his room, you know," Kaama said. " Lyeha's in that one, I think."
William leaned forward.
" Oh, why is that?"
" He hasn't slept in there since he was fifteen."
There was a practiced evenness to his voice, like he was withholding from saying what he actually wanted to.
" So whose is it?"
" ... We're not allowed to speak his name in the palace anymore. Only Lyena, since he-"
" - Can do as he wants, since he's Lyena?" William finished. " Earlier he said to me that just because he can do something, it doesn't mean he should."
A drawn out moment of silence, punctuated only by the sound of folded clothes rustling.
" ... How old are you, Wille?"
William tipped his head.
" ... Has he called me by that name in front of you yet?"
" ... Lyeha was first to mention you," Kaama admitted.
" That makes sense. She's fond of me," William said. " To answer your question, I'm twenty-two."
" ... You've blonde hair," Kaama observed. " ... Do you dye it?"
" Mm? No, not at all. I just came out this way."
" ... I see."
William laid down across the bed.
" ... Are you jealous of me, Kaama?" he asked.
" Not at all. I think highly of the esteemed Lyena, but... I cannot stand this room. He is terrible at getting over things. For whatever reason, he clings to the past and lets it define him. ... I refuse to be that way."
" So Nova's stuck in the past..."