[b]The Banquet [/b]
Written from [color=#F6E1D3]Kirsten Delving[/color]'s perspective 
[hr]
Of course, words and promises can only be worth so much. Once her brother was done with getting his beverages, he had himself immediately besieged by giggling ladies and hopeful fathers who sought to curry favor with the family. From this distance, Kirsten could only imagine how painfully diplomatic her brother's words would be when asked about his future soulmate, or if he had one, or be willing to consider any. 

It was an amusing sight to see, only for a while. 

The [i]maid-in-splendor[/i] sighed, making her own way toward the other beverage table. The first table was populated by not-so-unfamiliar people; The blonde elven archer and Yvonne Rosenving, who now seemed to have an argument with York Matriarch. Kirsten decided to steer clear. Though she know Yvonne quite well, the elf was an enigma that raises too many red flags. 

At the next table There there was a couple, the man seemed to know her but she didn't recognize any of them. 

[b]"Ah, lady Kirsten. What can we do for you on this fine day? Can I get you a drink? I do not believe we’ve met. Allow me to introduce myself. Danny Winston. Nice to meet you."[/b]

The man bowed, of course much to his companion's dismay. The lady accompanying him was not that bad herself; a typical coastal beauty with tanned skin and black hair. Kirsten felt bad for her.

[color=#F6E1D3]"I believe you are mistaken. My name is Ranaria,"[/color] she said, smiling as she slightly pushed the man aside to ladle a goblet of fruit punch for herself. 

The man furrowed.[b]"But I saw you..."[/b]

[color=#F6E1D3]"Ranaria Seymore."[/color] she insisted, restraining herself to not smirk at the young nobleman's existing companion. [color=#F6E1D3]"Perhaps you know my cousin, Lady Elana?" [/color]

The man's face furrowed in a confused look as he glanced at his partner before smoothing out so he won't embarrass himself. [b]"Ranaria... Elana... Ah yes... I remember her. How about--"[/b] 

When he returned to her, Kirsten had already treaded away from the couple, heading toward an area usually dedicated as the hall's dance floor. Her gaze traveled over the sea of bright-colored clothing, glossy locks, and garish hats. All are swaying and twirling in harmony following the slow if not relaxing tune. 

Her eyes shifted to the corner of the hall and landed on a woman and her two teenage children; a boy and a girl. They were [i]accompanied[/i] by what seemed to be a group of wealthier noblemen. The widow of Baron von Kruber sat in the middle, her daughter next to her, and they were flanked by two men. Their eyes gleamed like greedy wolves, and the boy could only watch helplessly as those men groped his mother and sister. 

Something inside her clicked. A memory flashed, fully formed though it had been lost to her till just this instant: a young woman scorned and divorced, and had nowhere to go. In the next flash, the woman had been withered, dying in her bed. The door opened, and someone breached in, to help? To weep and regret? It didn't matter anymore. 

It was an old nightmare, a frequent nightmare. The music rang, now from a slow tempo to an arpeggio, and with that, she banished the memory and looked away, refusing to draw any conclusion though the outcome was already apparent at the back of her mind. It was easy, as easy as uttering a lie. She gripped the skirt of her satin gown and suddenly found herself wanting to jump in and join the tango, and dance to her heart's content so the pang would go away and be dealt with in another day. 

[color=7ea7d8][i][b]"My apology, Miss. May I interrupt your loneliness?"[/b][/i][/color]

The request startled her, and Kirsten immediately searched for the source of that voice. There, she found a blonde man approaching and presenting himself with excessive gracefulness. with bows too deep and arm gestures too broad like performers in a play. 

But despite those small misgivings, Kirsten found herself reluctantly impressed by the man's handsomeness. To the point, she would return the effort by adjusting her eyeglasses so they won't magnify the alertness in her eyes. Not a good sighting to see.

[color=#F6E1D3]"Loneliness?"[/color] She chuckled and their eyes met. [color=#F6E1D3]"That's very bold of you to assume a lady's feeling."[/color]