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[center][color=silver][sub]E D W A R D S   E S T A T E ,   B A C K Y A R D   |   1 0 : 0 0   A M [/sub][/color][/center]
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Sir Barrios extended his hand to assist Lady Zarai as she stepped down from the carriage. He quickly raised a hand to shield the delicate fabric of her sage-green gown from the carriage’s dirty wheel. She hissed a quiet "thank you" as she carefully set foot on the cobblestone path leading to the Edwards’ gardens.

After gathering Zarai’s bracelet, their walk along the cobblestones to the garden was slow. Lady Zarai complained about her new shoes, which were a size too small and painfully tight. Sir Barrios couldn't fathom why someone of her status would endure such discomfort. The Lesdeman family, after all, had wealth beyond measure; they practically pissed gold.

To make matters worse, Lady Zarai showed no sign of propriety. Instead of paying her respects to their generous hosts and the birthday celebrant, she hobbled straight to her designated table and sat down. Without missing a beat, she flagged down one of the servants assigned to attend to her needs for the rest of the morning.

[color=93a477]“Can we get…”[/color] Lady Zarai began, her tone light and seemingly inclusive, as if Sir Barrios would partake in the banquet she was about to order. But he knew better; this was her feast, and hers alone. [color=93a477]“...and a plate of sorial salmon rolls. Oh, and can I get a mimosa with that, please? And some tea for my lovely knight here.”[/color] She closed the menu with a satisfied snap and set it aside. [color=93a477]“Thank you, sir!”[/color] she added with a cheerful wave, dismissing the servant who hurried off to fulfill her lengthy order.

[color=93a477]“Wow, look at this place. It’s so lovely! Gods, even the forks are so…”[/color] the lady picked up one of the delicate utensils, tilting it this way and that in the light, [color=93a477]“…demure and mindful of the theme! It really is love…ly…”[/color] Her voice trailed off, and for a moment, her animated expression faltered.

Sir Barrios rolled his eyes subtly, his attention wandering. He knew that look—a fleeting glimpse of dissatisfaction. She was probably comparing these forks to the ones in her summer home, deeming them inferior. The momentary flicker of disdain in her eyes was as telling as if she’d voiced it aloud.

How pretentious.

He shifted his gaze to the crowd, scanning the clusters of noblemen and ladies. They mingled in their little groups, no doubt whispering about someone's choice of attire or dissecting the latest scandalous rumor. The social dynamics of these gatherings were as predictable as they were petty. Who was the current target of the ton’s gossip, the unlucky soul under the nobility’s relentless scrutiny today? Duchess Lesdeman had likely spared no expense to ensure her daughter stayed out of the papers this time. There hadn’t been a single mention of Lady Zarai or the scandalous incident involving her sudden outburst and two unsuspecting victims.

The more Sir Barrios thought about it, the more it seemed to him that Lady Zarai was unfit for her station, much less deserving of becoming the next Duchess of Brustad. The mere idea of it felt like an insult to the title.

[color=93a477]“…Do you think I may have scared off August? I haven’t seen him since that morning. Or perhaps Wulfric has him locked away in some tower…”[/color] Lady Zarai mused, leaning back in her chair with a relaxed air. Her gaze drifted lazily over the new arrivals to the party, a slight smirk playing on her lips. [color=93a477]“I suppose I wouldn’t want me as a sister-in-law either,”[/color] she added with a chuckle, her voice tinged with self-aware humor.

Sir Barrios raised an eyebrow. Her candidness often surprised him, her humor a sharp contrast to her usual airhead demeanor.

[color=93a477]"Let’s leave as soon as we eat. I can’t wait to take off these shoes,"[/color] Zarai continued, twirling a fork between her fingers with practiced grace. Her smile returned, but her eyes seemed distant, lost in thought.

Sir Barrios nodded, though more to himself than to her. He shifted his attention back to the crowd, silently contemplating the company he might have served instead of the woman seated before him. 



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