Mikha's golden eyes widened in startled disbelief, and her hands rose instinctively as though to ward off the words that had just been spoken.
"B-B-But… that is a bit…"
"What are you dissatisfied with?" Sys asked, still speaking without much inflection. The golden eyes bored into Mikha without mercy or warmth, patient and unrelenting. "Master already has a lot of power, so I do not want him to receive any more. At least not at he moment. However, your grace would be sufficient. It is a factor that would empower and bless him without weighing him down... Kiss Master and give him your grace."
"Uhm… I… I am not entirely sure what I should say or how I should say it…"
Her golden eyes darted around the quiet room, avoiding the glowing gaze that watched her from the bed.
Her fingers twisted together in front of her, knotting and unknotting, folding and unfolding, as though the small motion might somehow anchor her against the absurdity of what she was being asked to do.
