As soon as it struck Shad the Princess was warm and comfortable, albeit his priority, he couldn’t help but realize he, subsequently, was not. Her arm locked with his, he did his best not to seize up his shoulders for the sudden blast of air and instead brought his other hand around to her arm. He began steering them both up the castle steps, his hair whipping and snapping in all directions. Oh Goddesses he should look quite the fright once they shut those doors!
“Why yes, Princess, as you say. Of course!” he replied, fumbling only once when he realized too late there were no more stair-steps and brought his foot down too hard. Once righted, he took one side of the doors and pulled it open against the squall, resisting the grunting noise bubbling in his throat.
As the blustery pandemonium raged on about them (she swore that the gales strengthened in power purposely), she shut her eyes for a brief moment, feet pacing up the steps with slight difficulty.
Upon her companion’s sudden shaking, her sapphire optics flickered open, and she brought them over to gaze at him. Her stare though, lasted only for a second when she realised that he had opened a door, and she hastily walked inside, dragging the spectacled man with her.
Releasing his arm from her hold, she extended her left hand in an attempt for a grasp of the door’s handle. Releasing a barely noticeable grunt, she pulled the thing shut, sighing in relief when the howling sound of the wind no longer disturbed her ears. She leaned against the door with a chuckle, fingers releasing the brass handle.
“Goodness,” she shook her head lightly, lips touched with amusement as they curved up, “It’s a relief to be out of that, is it not?”
Shad heaved the doors shut with his shoulders, falling into them with an oof once they bolted closed. He anchored the soles of his shoes to keep from sliding down the tile and shoved off before the Princess turned ‘round again, straightening his collars and scanning the walls for a looking glass of some sort.
“Quite, Princess,” he agreed, finding none and setting about smoothing the sides of his hair with his palms instead. He could see the cowlick hanging out of place just in his peripheral vision, a shadow, but fidgeting with that would get him nowhere. He merely frowned up at it and tapped at his ears instead to silence the ringing left over from the gales.
“What good a hot cup of tea would serve right now,” he muttered while he viewed the dome-like castle entrance hall, startled by the echo of his own forgotten words. He yanked at his tie, a flush creeping up the back of his neck.
“Or, of course, whatever you supposed we could do next, Your Majes—Miss Zelda,” he added quickly.