"Regan!" Octavius' voice could be loud when he wanted it to be, and right now it was raised unnecessarily so. "Wait!" He hadn't seen the soldier for a few days, not since the infirmary, but in that time he'd found out some things that he couldn't lay to rest. Not until he had confronted her.

His shift for the day would start soon, so he only had minutes to grab before he'd need to report to a tower in the castle. He'd been headed there when he'd seen that familiar crop of dark hair.

Regan immediately recognized the voice. She turned in its direction, and as expected, Octavius was bounding down the hall towards her. Her general amusement with Octavius wasn’t enough to break through the cloud of hunger and wounded pride that snuffed out any joy. Regan managed a lukewarm smile that looked more like a pained grimace than anything.

“Well, well, look who it is,” Regan kept the smile going, adding teeth to make it more convincing, “Walk with me, soldier. I don’t have a lot of time.” Regan gestured for him to follow and would start off, whether he came with her or not.

Octavius knew a fake smile when he saw it, but he didn't question it. He wasn't so insecure as to assume it was about him. He'd heard the rumors that she was a royal guard now, and surely the job carried a lot of stress with it. If she failed, it could mean the end of Nevermere as they knew it. He didn't envy her.

"I don't have a lot of time either." He agree as he fell into step beside her. But before launching into what he wanted to talk about--"Where are you headed to?"

"Kitchen. They let me eat occasionally. Unfortunately, I don't get that bedside service anymore." Regan looked at Octavius with a playful smirk as she shuffled along. Was that the last time she saw him? It already felt so long ago.

"What about you?" She asked, starting down the staircase, "Where do they have you rushing off to?"

Octavius gave a shallow, sloppy bow as she mentioned his bedside service. He was glad no one was around to overhear their conversation, or they might have gotten the wrong idea.

"I have a shift. In the towers. Peering out over Skia and beyond. You know, real important stuff." He said it almost sincerely, but the sarcasm was there and surely she'd hear it. Nevermere had never been attacked, but still they posted soldiers as if a threat was always lurking. Perhaps it was prepared, but Octavius couldn't help but feel like it was paranoid.

Now he decided to go where he wanted to take this.

"I've been training a lot with my new partner." Something in his tone was both careful and curious, like he was setting down a piece of crumb to see if she might snatch it up.

Octavius, typically not too easily riled, rose to meet her edge with his own, his blade forged by justice and his hilt gripped by loyalty.

“No winning necessary,” His tone attempted to match hers in neutrality but came out defensive, “Kat is easy to like and worthy of trust.” He kept his eyes fixed ahead and his voice lowered,

“But apparently you aren’t…?” It was an accusation to be sure, but laced with a question. With a desire for what he said to not be true. He believed the best about people. Perhaps Kat was mistaken. Perhaps Regan had a valid excuse. He desperately wanted to hear it. He hoped she took his bait.

Octavius saw the anger there. It wasn't enough to make her hit him or walk away, which he was glad for. He would have taken the hit and followed, surely, because he wanted to get to the bottom of this. He wanted to be Regan's friend, but how could he do that and also be Kat's partner?

"Regan." Octavius said her name like it was a plea. A plea for the truth. For transparency. "Kat told me about you and Fabian." He shook his head as he said it, having left the defensiveness behind for earnest confusion and insistence. Say it wasn't so, Regan. Just say it and he'd believe her.

Octavius stopped when Regan did, girding his loins for what was about to happen. He had sisters. He well knew the cadence of the female sex and how it differed from men. When she rounded on him, he had expected anger. And it was there. What surprised him and immediately convicted him was the hurt. He had hurt her. His eyes grew wide and his mouth softened.

He didn’t interrupt. She said everything, and Octavius was full of confusion and sorrow and regret. It was written all over his face.

“Regan.” Her name again, again a plea, only this time for forgiveness rather than the truth. He believed her. He believed them both. Their stories didn’t have to contradict.

“I’m…” he lifted his hands to his face, covered it for a beat, then pushed them back through his hair, “mortified. Please,” he pressed his palms together, “please forgive me. I shouldn’t have… I’m an ass.”

Octavius saw what was welling in her eyes and did her the respect of looking away. If she had been his sister he might have given her a hug or something, but she was a soldier. He was sure she wanted to maintain her dignity and sense of strength. When she spoke, however, his gaze eagerly returned to her face.

“It’s not fine. I made assumptions, and that was hurtful. I wasn’t being a good friend. And I’m sure Kat would kill me if she found out I said anything.” He sighed, totally unaware of the inner battle she was waging about an entirely different man.

“Listen, I think you two should talk. Clear the air. Try to reconcile.” He shrugged his shoulders, as if his two cents wasn’t worth much but there it was.