---

---

“Now presenting Lord Roman Ravenwood of Emberstone.”

Tall and muscular, with a clean-cut beard and close-cropped hair, Roman strikes an imposing figure. His stoic bearing is accentuated by a forest green jacket that ends just past his knees, crafted from a luxurious blend of fine linen and wool. The jacket's shoulders are adorned with delicately stitched round metal disks bearing his house sigil: two ravens facing each other, an anvil, axe, and hammer between them, and a crown above.

A fine leather belt with an ornate buckle cinches the jacket at his waist, while gold and black inlay cuffs extend from his wrists to just below his elbows, each depicting traditional tales of great beasts swallowing the sun and moon. His fingers are adorned with rings, some featuring insignias and others set with finely cut jewels.

Around his neck hangs a clear crystal pendant, subtly refracting light into a myriad of colors that dance elegantly over his silk undershirt. His pressed, but loose-fitting dark blue pants are paired with polished leather boots that rise just below his knees. The deliberate choice of attire by Roman and his advisors underscored his noble status and the rich heritage of his house.

The sea of red, gold, and orange did not go unnoticed by him. He understood the semblance of it. A show of fashion and of unity to the people that called this kingdom home. But it seems he wasn’t the only odd one out. A few outliers with different or similar colors to his own were spread out. Still, he was here to represent his family, his home, and by extension, his kingdom.

He walked with a practiced purpose and a smile on his face. Many other nobles were whispering about him, if the whispers reaching his ears were to be believed, the rumors they started sending out just a few days ago were already starting to make their way through these social circles. Rumors of him just relying on his riches and buying his way to his position, rumors that made him out to be greedy and selfish behind closed doors.

He gave both the King and Queen respectable bows but addressed them a little differently, “Your resplendence.” He smiled to the king then the queen, “your majesty.” His gaze shifting to some of the other familiar faces at the gathered tables, then politely moved to take his seat.

“Alexander Deacon, Lady Violet.” Spoken with a smile and calm demeanor. “A lovely evening with a feast that would rival the ones we would have back home.” Eagerly yet politely, he began to stack his plate with just about anything he could reach with an interest in the fine selection of meats. “I am famished.” Glancing momentarily from his plate to Alexander with a smile.

Time: 6pm
Location: The Castle Dining Hall
Interactions: @Potter Kira @JJ Doe Hala @Lava Alckon Farim @Tae Thea
Attire:Dress, Hair

---

Anastasia blinked as the dignitary marched over, only for a vision in turquoise and gold to gracefully steal his seat, sip his drink, and dismiss him with regal flair.

Leaning toward Auguste, she whispered, “Did you see that? He got dethroned in three moves.” She tilted her head thoughtfully, then leaned slightly toward Hafiz, her eyes still fixed in awe.

“Grand Vizier,” she whispered, “who is that hurricane that just stole that poor man's dignity?”

Hafiz's lips twitched into a subtle smirk, amusement glittering faintly in his eyes. Without turning his head fully toward Anastasia, he responded in a low, velvety voice laced with dry humor.

"That radiant hurricane, Princess, is none other than Hala Sami—child of Vali Malik Sami. A word of caution: dignity isn't all they'll take if one isn't careful."

Before she could process that information, a familiar movement caught her peripheral vision. She turned—and immediately beamed.

“Thea! The Birthday Baby!” she exclaimed excitedly, sitting up straighter with a gleeful sparkle in her eyes. She returned the wave with both hands, like a child seeing their best friend at a festival, entirely unbothered by the stares it earned her from the more composed royals at the table.

“She looks so pretty,” she whispered to Auguste, grinning. “And she didn’t trip. I’m so proud.”

Anastasia’s eyes then lit up as Kira approached, her smile brightening with a touch of genuine excitement.

“Oh, hello there!” she beamed, straightening in her chair with a slight bounce. When Kira gave her name, Anastasia clapped her hands softly in delight. “Kira! Your name is so pretty by the way!" she chirped warmly, tilting her head with curious affection. “You look so elegant tonight. Look at that posture! We love a dignified lady in this house.” She cast a playful, exaggerated glance toward her brothers with mock suspicion, then giggled. “Please tell me you’re here to keep me entertained. Everyone's been so serious.”

And then, just to seal the deal, she leaned in with a whisper that wasn’t exactly quiet:
“Also, sit near me forever. You have bestie energy.”

Anastasia had already been glowing with the warmth of her bubbly welcome to Kira, her fingers still brushing the fabric of her gown as she fidgeted excitedly. But when she felt the distinct flutter of wings—and heard his voice—her entire body visibly perked.

She turned sharply, eyes locking on Farim with such giddy urgency that it was as though the entire banquet faded behind a pink, heart-filled filter.

“Faaaarim~!” she sang, breathless and wide-eyed as if he'd just floated in on a gust of wind and moonlight. Her voice sparkled with uncontainable delight. “You always know exactly how to make an entrance!”

Her hands clutched at her chest, dramatically overjoyed, before she stood quickly, her chair shifting just a little. “You’re too kind! Really, too kind! I didn’t think you’d mention my music again—I was so nervous I was going to ruin it—” she gasped, caught herself rambling, and waved it away with a bashful flutter of her fingers.

Then came Thara.

Anastasia’s gasp turned soft and dreamy as she looked down at the falcon, her lips parting in awe. “Oh, Thara! Darling girl!” she cooed and gently stroked Thara’s head, eyes shining with admiration—though it was very clear who she was really gazing at.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” She smiled at Farim.

Time: Evening
Location: Castle Dining Room
Interactions: @potter Lady Olivia/Percy, Asteroth, Hugo
Mentions: @princess Charlotte

---

An irritated Asteroth strode with hasty steps, his cane clacking in rapid pace, Sir Hugo following a short step away having recently arrived and now fretting being late after an emergency visit at his personal tailor’s.

The herald voice calls out announcing their arrival.” Presenting Lord Baron Astertoh Hugonin of Hugonin Estate, his Ward Kazumin Nagasa-”

A stiff stern expression on Hugo’s face as he turned and leaned close to his lord as they strode towards the center.” My lord, are you certain allowing the cowlicked fool to prance around in..that..farce of a suit?” Murmuring his misgivings with a quick studying cold gaze of the extravagant hall.

A frustrated huff of Asteroth’s nostrils and a pinch to the bridge of his nose with the left hand, cane lightly gripped and twirled in his main hand.” Hrngh, hardly if my mood does not demonstrate so. Yet, this was an invitation by the king himself.” A squeezing rumination at the whole situation.” Why or how the king has taken fancy of him, the reasons escapes me but this is a special occasion…still, Mr. Nagasa seems to enjoy testing my patience.” A brief scowl was afforded before calming his gruff face cleaned and prepped as the pair bowed their respect to the royal family and then stepped aside to see Kazumin finally strutting in after a delay.

A merry whistling tune came along and a whirling twirl of the candy-speckled cane, its ball end smoothly round and a twirling mix color of blue and red playfully held and spun in his black-gloved hand then a skidding pause to his skipping candy patterned dress shoes then a gentle lifting tilt of his slightly faded star speckled hat with wide glittering awe of the extravagant castle halls.

“ *Whistles* Whew, so this is a banquet befitting of a king eh? The kind of feast that requires a matching suit of ‘pizazz’! “ Charging his way onward with a hippity hoppity to his step and a delighted bounce in increasing fervor taking in the sights of rare and delicious food delicacies piling the tables for as far as the eyes could see; a boundless allure that had Kazumin who his lord and bodyguard figured be fretting out of his mind was instead giving a delighted spin into a low playful bow offering his reverence of thanks.

The rustle of his bright red-blue mixed plaid suit almost mingling with the bright dazzling colors.

A low hat-pulling bow rested upon his chest, a peek at Princess Anastasia giving her a big grin, the princes a respectful bow, and the king gorging himself on piles of food left him in a mixture of awed disgust.* Damn…look at the pig king go. Can’t help but feel the hunger.. for a challenge!* A deep rumble in his belly as if agreeing with the idea.

With a twirling flip of the hat patted back on his head he jumped up with a tossed grab of the cane and whirled about till he spotted the grumpy lord and his stony guard and whistled his way over rubbing a hand over the sleeves.” Aye, look at the place?! Can hardly look around without going blind or hungry, hahah! Everyone’s really gone out this time.” Chuckling as he joined the two.” Sorry for the delay there..got a bit lost, this place is huge..hm think some tour guides might help.” Rubbing his forefinger against his lip in a pondering manner.

A slow airy huff from the glowering Asteroth.” I see your…energetic spirit has returned and I truly wish you reconsidered. This…clown suit of yours. We have already tallied enough thanks to this…rush job you thrust upon me.” A small grit of teeth of annoyance and slightly amused crook of his lips.

Save for a slight shudder from the glowering, Kazu carried on unbothered with fixing of the hat, a small mostly used candle seemingly set at the base at the front of the hat than a crease dusting of the dress shirt.” Aw, but look..its so colorful and breathes! Not unlike all those stuffy boring suits most these flashy noble folks enjoy.” Still, undeniable there were countless beautiful sights to enjoy, the food merely what drew his attention first as it wasn’t every day peasants got to see mountains of it…frustratingly so but no point dwelling on pointless things.

A tug of the wrist sleeves sporting ruby apple cufflinks and a gentle adjustment of his pudding chocolate bowtie.” I do feel bad for that tailor guy of yours, but little time and a rushed job was needed for this wondrous suit. Besides, about time I had a proper suit that actually fits and I’d say.” A momentary relishing inhale of the rich potential fun and stories waiting.” I know things have been…weird and rough..especially rough woof.” A shivering shake of the head and a guilty lapsed exhale, a lowered hiding of his head as glimpses of the tree, Sasha of Fritz and of Charlotte then…

Frowning eyes roamed over the tables and the crowds until he spotted his friend's familiar faces. A relieved smile seeing Percy as Lady Olivia looking like a pretty bright yellow sun almost standing out even among all the dazzling sights. On closer look he would notice that she looked tense and uncomfortable and as he turned to see Charlotte who wore something a bit surprisingly risque though still cutely gorgeous as ever.

“ Well I’ve wasted enough of your time, gentlemen. Time to grab some food and join my lovely friends.” With a tip of his hat then spun on his heels and strutted off towards the main table first wanting to grab something to eat.

Rubbing hands together.” Alright, let’s see, what do we go with here…” Trailing off as he looked at the single plate in his hands then at the piles and piles of scrumptious food and shook his head before walking off; a minute later strolled over whistling with an empty cart he swiped while a servant looked away and started grabbing plate after plate of whatever meats, dishes, fruits until the cart was nearly spilling over.” There we go! Should serve as an appetizer.” Glancing over at the slobbish king who showed no sign of pausing in his kingly appetite.* Today, you have met your match your gorged blob majesty.*

A challenging rumble of the stomach pushed Kazu on with a happy pushing skip to his seat giving the surrounding group a surprised thump of his cart causing a plate of mashed potatoes to spill onto the table knocking some plates and goblets over.” Mighty oops and many apologies there, everyone. Don’t mind me, just brought a mini feast for any wanting to join.”

Laughing as he grabbed a plate with a full chicken and loaf of bread and dropped it down beside Lady Olivia.” Someone’s been digging in without me, guess I better get moving. But first, may I say you all look positively dashingly debonair and blindingly gorgeous.”

A soft set of the cane and a fluttering kick of candy fabrics as Kazumin dropped down into his seat and leaned with his chin resting on his palm propped by the elbow.” Talk about a grand feast this is, eh?” A roaming wave of the hand motioning the sights then leaned towards Olivia with a greeting grin.” Well, Greetings Lady Olivia, nobody said they invited the sun..though a shame.” A curious tilt of the head as he gazed that elegant braid running down gracefully along his friend’s face.” Ah, you know what’s missing? Sunflowers in the braids, think that would do- oh..what’s this?”

Pausing in his friendly flattery as he noticed the heart shaped amulet around her neck, a queer raised brow.” Oh, that looks real pretty there, Pe- Lady Olivia. Where did ya pick this up? A gift or maybe someone fancied ya?” A gentle caressing studying touch of the unexpected trinket, hardly often seeing Percy with jewelry so it wasn’t hard to notice.” A butterfly? Ooh, a fire butterfly, think that’s pretty fitting. You look lovely.” A soft pat of the shoulder and playful wink, feeling at ease surrounded by his friends and foods as the candy dressed blonde turned to dig into his food scarfing in almost eager haste to make up for lost time.

Stratya Durmand

Time: 28th Sola, Evening
Location: Castle Dining Hall
Attire: Military Formal, in Caesonian colors
Family Dirk + Crest, worn on the right
Swordbreaker, also worn on the right
Interactions: @JJ Doe Count Fritz
Mentions: @FunnyGuy Lorenzo, [@Oso] Milo

“Aah, I dinae see those. Look at tha’ crraftsmanship, I ‘ave tae admire t’ royal baker. I suppose ya donnae get tae such a post wit’ou’ bein’ good, ey. Migh’ I?” She grinned at the count, only slightly bashful for her appetite, as she waited for him to allow her indulgence, before she’d reach for one of the goodies from the plate he’d displaye. “I’ll ‘ave tae trea’ ye tae some o’ my baekin’, sometyme,” she chuckled, “fer once I've brough' nowt.”

She took a bite of the pastry treat, giving a soft hum of approval with the following mastication. She didn’t spend too long on it before swallowing, “ooh, wha’ a delica’e balance. Filo dough is such a payn, too, a work o’ ar’, this is. Almost a shame tae eat i’.” She giggled and took another small bite, as Fritz turned to the hall around them.

“Quite the gathering tonight—many fresh faces.”

She nodded with the comment, “mmm,” swallowed, “aye, therre arre, arren’ therrre?” Her eyes landed on the Princess and the gaggle of girls growing around her. And Prince August, and the-

“Ohhh! Grand Vizier! You've made it, my friend! I see you're in the correct chair this evening. Salami-aleekum and enjoy your meal Grand Vizier!”

Stratya took a slow breath and popped the rest of her, ah, morsel, in her mouth. She couldn’t remember the fancy name for this one. Whatever it was, chewing it bought her a moment to come up with something to say that wouldn’t be - what was it? Ah - uncouth, while she rubbed her hand back along her face, just a little exasperated. It transitioned smoothly into her cradling her face while she enjoyed that final bite before swallowing, “I mus’ say, Duke Lorrenzo surre knows how tae make a simple lass feel a’ ease.” ‘At ease’ was one way of putting it. As long as she wasn’t more embarrassing than Lorenzo, she’d be fine.

She let her attention draw back to the man mentioned. “I doan think I’ve laid eyes on t’ Gran’ Vizier ‘til now, either. _{In t’ middle of a sea o’ youth’, ‘is Majesty.}” Her tone had a critical edge to it. He stuck out like a sore thumb among those young faces. At Fritz’s prompting, she willingly turned her attention to their own table, not wanting to be caught staring and have to fend off a social check. On the way, her eyes caught the champagne glass in Fritz’s hand and she caught a nearby servant, “would you ge’ me.. somethin’ lemony. Alcoholic, please.” As the servant went to get her a drink, she dug out a couple silver and held them hidden against her palm.

“There are abou’... six names a’ our table I’ve no’ acquainted with. Didn’ I see Sir Matthias at-”

“Now presenting… the esteemed guest of the royal court—renowned artist, Master Milo St. Claire!”

“Ooh, I ’ave ‘eard o’ him. Tha’s reyt.” The servant came back with her requested drink she slipped the two silver into the servant’s hand as she accepted it, “thank you.” Her attention came back to Fritz, giving the theatrics of one Milo St. Clair a glance from the side, “the King was qui’e upse’ abou’ t’ vandalism of ‘is image, _{by Lady Ariella,} an’ they’re sea’ed jus’ nextae each other. T’ whole evenin’ seems a tad.. confrrontational, ferr a banque’.”

A sip of her drink seemed to much please her and she followed it with another, “ooh, tha’s good.”

Her run-in with Roman had been rather eye-opening. The man had magical means in spades, it seemed. Made her a little jealous. She looked at the differences in her drink to Fritz’s, then found herself looking at the King and Queen. The Queen was looking particularly disgusted with the King at that moment, whatever he was saying. She took a breath and turned to the Count next to her with a question her tongue, but hesitated, and said instead “maybe when I trrea’ ye tae baked goods, I c’n pick yer noggin a bi’? I’ve naer been abrroad, y’see. I’d like tae trravel, but ‘fore I go anywhere, I’d like to learn a bi’ abou’ t’ places I migh’ go.” Actually, she’d probably find it more fun to just go, but depending on the place, it might be best to learn first. “T’ cultures, any hoops I’d have to jump through. Any laws or 'azards tha’ migh’ be.. differren’ or unexpected.”

Caesonian magic laws were strict but also, seemingly, insidiously hidden, and taboo to even discuss. Were they meant to not be noticed? Why? If no one saw the tiny script she’d seen on the document, and discussing magic was so forsaken, only the tiny writing on that page indicated magic was considered extant and illegal, and precious few would know that. Yes, this would be a good conversation to have. She needed perspective. Was it like this everywhere? Or would there be other countries that might be evidence to support her hope that the Queen was wrong?

More entrants, more greetings to the royal fa..mi..ly. Hmm. She should probably do that, too, huh? She sipped the last of her first drink and the same servant appeared with another, at the ready. She gasped softly as she looked at him with a big smile, "oh, you swee'earr'. C'mon by my kitchen in t' morrnin', aye?" She exchanged glasses and slipped the man another silver, "an' if ye still wantae wai' on me, I'll take an ale or mead next, a' my sea', please."

She waited for Fritz to finish whatever thought he'd been in the middle of, before, "I.. believe I'm due tae grreet t' Rroyal Family." She chuckled with a bit of tension, "perr'aps tha' was due when I arrived?"

Time: 6 pm
Location: Castle Dinning Hall
Interactions: Thea, Drake, Kazu(mentioned)
Attire: “Why was I not told red was the color for tonight?”

---

Leo gave a curt nod of approval to Drake as the lord pulled out a chair for Thea. He watched, his attention subtly shifting from Drake to Thea until he finally smiled. He noted none of the uncomfortable energy or defeated annoyance in Thea’s eyes at Drake’s approach — a stark and welcomed contrast to what he’d seen when Prince Felix had been around.

Drake was already an improvement.

“You may call me Leo.” He accepted Drake’s handshake with a stern grip meant to test the other man. “Pleasure’s all mine. I’ve heard nothing but high praises anytime your name is mentioned, Lord Drake. You’re quite the talented pianist.”

There was a mild ruckus. A few plates and goblets clattered. A man in the most horrendous suit Leo had ever had the misfortune of looking at seemed to be the cause. He pulled his hand away from Drake.

“Gods, look at that! It’s like a rainbow vomited all over him. Guess they let anyone into these things nowadays.” He whispered as he watched the monstrosity of clashing colors and patterns make his way to his seat.

Time: Evening
Location: Castle Dining Hall
Attire: Dress, Amulet
Interaction: @JJ Doe Fritz @FunnyGuy Lorenzo @Tae Thea @Helo Leo

---

“Actually, Lorenzo, I am beginning to suspect that Alexander Deacon may not be the most good-hearted of gentlemen—” Charlotte began in a whisper, leaning slightly toward her stepfather with lowered voice. But before she could finish, Lorenzo’s voice cut loudly across the table, calling out to the Grand Hafiz with cheerful abandon.

She nearly jumped in her seat, her gloved fingers tightening around her wine glass. “…Perhaps we might refrain from shouting across the banquet hall,” she said delicately, “We may yet survive the evening without incurring His Majesty’s wrath.”

Her eyes flitted nervously around the room, surveying the damage, as though she might smooth it over with sheer will. That’s when she caught sight of Count Fritz. Ever kind, he offered her a little wave. Her posture relaxed a touch, and she returned the gesture with a warm, grateful smile.

The herald's voice filled the air once more as it had incessantly ever since they arrived, and this time to announce the Damiens.

It felt as if her stomach dropped a little, and her breath caught in her throat. She soon found herself eye to eye with Cassius as he sat diagonally across from her. And he certainly wasted no time devoting his gaze to her. She straightened instinctively, her spine taut, but her cheeks betrayed her with a slow, unmistakable flush. Her lips parted in a soft breath.

"Good evening Cassius," she said softly, a whisper meant only for him, as if it could protect them both from the watching world.

But there was something different about the way his gaze bore into her than from the way it had that evening.

It wasn’t something she could easily explain in words. But at the very least, she knew it was heavier.
If she were forced to name it, to pin it down to a single truth—It felt as though he was trying to memorize her and forget her all at once.

Charlotte blinked, her breath catching again before she willed it steady. She tore her gaze from him, forcing herself to return her attention to her plate—though her appetite had all but vanished. Her blue eyes flicked toward the wine glass, and for a moment, she studied the way the deep red liquid swirled within, as though it might offer some answer.

Her heart betrayed her with a flutter, and she closed her eyes.

But even in the dark, she could not escape him. His voice clung to her bones, his voice echoing in her ears, his face—the way he had looked at her just the other night as if she were a secret he wanted to keep.

"Don’t stop dancing with me, Lottie."

That voice, a whisper etched into her ribs, returned now like a memory unwilling to fade.
Her eyes opened slowly, sorrow pooling in them like ink dropped in water, and her shoulders curled inward, as though the very air around her had grown too heavy to bear. And then, she briefly met Calbert Damien’s cold, unrelenting gaze with her own somber blue eyes.

“I promise, love… I’m right here.”

She let her gaze return to Cassius. There was still desire behind those eyes of his—oh yes, the pull between them remained, a flame refusing to die... But now, with their minds sober and the weight of reality pressing in, it was all painfully easier to dismantle the idea of the two of them. What once felt inevitable now unraveled quietly beneath the eyes of watching wolves.

She could no longer afford to be reckless. No longer dance like the world wouldn’t dare interrupt them.

And Charlotte felt deep in her marrow that he knew it too. Whatever they were... Whatever they had almost become, needed to be buried.

Because the way Cassius was looking at her… She could finally name it.

It was a goodbye, dressed in the eyes of a man who never wanted to say it.

And Gods, Charlotte, too, was so tired of saying goodbye.

She suddenly rose from her seat, a small box with a ribbon tied about it in hand. Charlotte quickly made her way around the room until she lingered before a certain birthday girl. With a tender smile, she set the gift down with care near Thea’s plate "Happy birthday, Thea," she said warmly. She reached out then—one hand resting briefly, affectionately, on Thea’s shoulder, the other offering a light touch to Leo’s arm. "I hope you are both faring well this evening."

---

Mina glanced at the ivory card between her fingers, watching the gold filigree catch the light. She smirked as Milo vanished into the crowd.

Milo St. Claire, she mused to herself. Try not to let expectation smother you—it’d be a shame to lose a masterpiece like you.

Her gaze slid to Rohit, lingering on the golden case in his hands. For a moment, she hesitated. Stay clear-headed, stay in control. But… for whose benefit? Certainly not hers. She was tired of putting others needs first, taking care of others and enjoying her life. Fuck it.

Twirling the ivory card between her fingers, she glanced at Rohit, her grin turning wicked. “I was going to behave, but—” she tapped the card against his chest, voice dipping into something teasing, reckless, “I think it’s time I make my own rules.”

Plucking a joint with deliberate ease, she held his gaze. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to introduce me to this as this is new for me. And while we’re at it…” She flashed the card once more. “I say we find out exactly what sort of selective delights dear Milo thought us worthy of.”

Rohit turned the ivory and gold card over in his hand. Classy. He thought before tucking it into a pocket. He looked at Mina as she accepted his offer and tapped his chest with her own VIP card. He matched her wicked grin. “Behave? Where’s the spontaneity in that?” He agreed.

“I could never pass up selective delights.” Rohit plucked a joint from his case and returned the rest to his pocket, grabbing a book of matches in the process. He looked around for a moment and then gestured to the Ivory Longue.

“It’d be terribly rude to obscure Milo’s lovely work in clouds of smoke.” He added, twirling the joint between his fingers and beckoning her to follow. Once they were a respectable distance away from Milo’s art, he stuck a match.

“You light it, evenly, or it’ll canoe on you.” He explained as he lit his joint, rolling the tip in the flame. Then he placed it between his lips, embers growing bright and hot on the inhale. “Then you just inhale and hold it, maybe not too long for a first timer.” He spoke without exhaling, wisps of smoke leaking out as he talked. He passed her the book of matches and, just to show off, rounded his lips and blew a ring of smoke above them.

“Then, you’re mind will start to float, your skin will buzz, and everything about the world will feel more delightful than it did before. It is truly a magical plant with a little spark of chaos in it.” He said with a grin.

Mina turned the matchbook over in her hand, rolling it between her fingers as if it were some rare artifact demanding study. Her gaze flicked to Rohit, catching the way his lips curled around his joint, the lazy ease of his inhale, the effortless swirl of smoke that followed. Of course he made it look good.

The flame flickered as she struck the match, reflecting in her ocean eyes as she brought it to the tip, mimicking Rohit’s slow, even roll through the fire. The embers flared to life, and she pulled in her first inhale—only to choke almost immediately.

She turned away, coughing into her wrist, eyes watering as she forced a breath. “Dear gods,” she rasped, shaking her head as she regained her composure. “That’s awful.” Yet despite the burn in her throat, a laugh bubbled up, unrestrained and genuine.

Looking at Rohit, she smirked through the lingering sting. “You enjoy this?” She took a smaller, more cautious drag, determined not to let it beat her. The smoke curled in her lungs, strange but not entirely unpleasant now that she was expecting the sensation. The warmth spread through her, curling in her limbs, coaxing the tension from her muscles. She exhaled, this time without a fit of coughing, and tilted her head toward Rohit.

"A spark of chaos, huh?" she mused, watching the smoke coil into the air. A slow grin curved her lips. "I think I could get used to that."

“I do enjoy this.” Rohit said. The light feeling, the scent that lingered, the earthy and peppery flavors of the smoke; he loved the whole experience. “The smoke goes in, wraps itself around every worry, and carries it away from me. To the heavens, like a prayer that needs no answer.” He replied and soon another smoky exhale rose and dissipated. Only a slight haze lingered around them.

“But even if you don’t acquire a taste for this; today you’ve tried something entirely new. Added a spark of chaos, a breath of spontaneity, and soon, selective delights. What a wonderful way to spend an afternoon.” He added with an easy confidence. It was a good start to his day too; there were now two less faces wandering Sorian that felt like strangers.

“So what’s next, Mina? Indulge in our fabulous reflections or skip straight to the delights?” He asked as the embers at the joint burned just a puff or too away from his fingertips.

Mina let Rohit's words linger in the haze between them, watching the smoke swirl and dissipate as if carrying her own restlessness away. The warmth creeping through her veins was subtle, like sinking into silk sheets after too long on her feet.

She took another drag, this one smoother, and held it in her lungs for a beat before exhaling. The world felt… softer. The chatter of the crowd dulled, colors seemed to bleed a little more vibrantly, and the tension that usually coiled beneath her skin loosened, leaving her feeling almost… weightless.

And then she noticed it.

The noise—the constant murmur of voices just beyond the veil, the whispering and wailing of spirits that had trailed her for as long as she could remember—was gone.

Her breath hitched.

For the first time in what felt like forever, silence wrapped around her like a comforting shroud. Her pulse quickened as she glanced around, searching for the familiar flickers of the dead that lurked at the edges of her vision. But there was nothing. No ghostly figures lingering in the shadows, no distant pleas clawing at her mind.

Just the living.

A pang of relief struck her chest so suddenly she nearly laughed from the sheer lightness of it. The break—the silence—was an indulgence in itself, one she hadn’t known she craved until this moment.

Her gaze flicked to Rohit, amusement dancing in her eyes. “A prayer that needs no answer,” she echoed with a soft laugh, this time savoring the quiet it left behind. “I think I understand that now.”

The smirk that followed was lazy, almost wicked. “Let’s not waste this mood on reflection. I say we find those delights Milo was so eager to tempt us with.”

She stepped closer, brushing her shoulder against his as she leaned in, playful mischief glinting in her gaze. “Lead the way, Rohit. Let’s see what chaos tastes like when it's laced with indulgence.”

Without hesitation or reservation, Rohit led the way towards temptation. Tucked away just out of view from the general public, the VIP area was a realm of indulgence and freedom. A flash of the cards Milo had given them got them past the velvet ropes and entrance into an area of living, breathing art. Guests in varying states of undress moved about, beautiful and uninhibited, each a work of art in their own way. A pair of nude models lay perfectly still on a set of tables with hors d'oeuvres artfully placed upon their skin.

Soft music and excited voices filled the air. The topic of conversation strayed far from gossip, instead, everyone was abuzz with their thoughts on art, lost in deep reflection of what Milo’s work meant to them. They spoke without masks, without clothing, without barriers. Here conversations quickly turned comfortably intimate as people bared their souls without a second thought. Milo St. Claire was truly a genius like no other.

Time: Evening
Location: Banquet Hall
Attire: Dress & Hair
Interaction: @Helo Rohit, Callum/Clarence, @PapaOso Milo, [@Reusable Sword] Roman, @FunnyGuy Alexander, @Tpartywithzombi Violet, @SilverPaw Wulfric, @princess King Edin, & Queen Alibeth
Mentions:



Mina’s heels clicked sharply against the marble floors as she strode down the corridor, her uncle’s silence pressing down on her like a vice. She could feel his gaze, heavy with disapproval, trying to pierce through her composure. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Not tonight.

Sebastian’s patience finally snapped as they neared the banquet hall. His voice, low and firm, cut through the tension. “You think you can waltz in here, high as a kite, and act like nothing matters? You’re becoming a liability, Mina. You’re better than this.”

She halted abruptly, turning to face him with an icy stare. “Better than what, exactly? Better than you? Better than the years I’ve spent cleaning up your messes, covering your lies, protecting you at the cost of everything I’ve ever cared about?” Her voice was steady, but beneath it simmered years of resentment.

Sebastian’s expression darkened, but she didn’t let him speak. “I’ve sacrificed everything for you. I’ve lied, I’ve made excuses, I’ve turned my back on people I loved—all for your sake. And what did I get in return? You took everything from me and called it love. Called it protection.”

Her words hit their mark, but she wasn’t finished. “You break people down and call it for their own good. You did it to my mother, forcing her to hide away when she was pregnant with me, and you did it to me my entire life. Well, I’m done.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, laced with venom. “Fuck you, Sebastian.”

Sebastian reached for her arm, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “I never wanted to hurt you. Everything I did—”

“Was for me? No.” She took a step back, eyes cold. “It was for you. And I’m done letting you control me.”

A flicker of something—regret, maybe—crossed his face, but she didn’t care. She turned on her heel, striding toward the banquet hall.

“You’ll regret this when you’re sober,” he murmured, almost to himself.

Mina’s lips curled in a bitter smirk as she scoffed, but she didn’t dignify it with a response.

The herald’s voice rang out as the doors were pulled open. “Count Sebastian Blackwood and Lady Mina Blackwood!”

Heads turned as they entered, the tension between them nearly tangible. Mina ignored it, her gaze sweeping the room until it landed on Rohit. A playful smirk tugged at her lips, and she lifted a hand, blowing him a kiss with effortless audacity.

As she made her way toward the royal family, she spotted Milo and, on impulse, trailed a hand across his shoulders as she passed, throwing him a devilish grin before moving on without a word.

Finally, she reached the head table. She dipped into a graceful curtsy. “Your Majesties,” she greeted smoothly, her voice poised and practiced. Sebastian followed suit, his bow precise but stiff.

As she straightened, her eyes found Prince Callum. Something about him made her pause. He was too composed, too poised—unnatural, even. The easy, mischievous air he usually carried was…different. A strange unease crept into her, but before she could linger on it, she forced herself to look away.

Her gaze then met Wulfric’s and she hadn't missed his comment to Alexander as she'd approached. Mina’s lips curved into a knowing smirk as she greeted him. "Your Royal Highness," she greeted smoothly, her oceanic gaze locking onto his without hesitation. "I see you’re still perfecting that signature mix of charm and menace. It’s almost comforting, really."

Moving to the long banquet table, she slid into the seat beside Roman, her body instinctively relaxing in his presence. A slow smile spread across her lips as she leaned in, boldly brushing a lingering kiss against his cheek. “You look quite handsome tonight, Roman.” She murmured.

Turning her attention to Violet, she offered a polite smile. “Lady Violet, always a pleasure. I hope the evening has been kind to you so far.”

Then, her gaze landed on Alexander, and her lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Alexander,” she teased, voice lilting. “Are we behaving ourselves tonight?”

Before she could settle in, Sebastian’s voice cut through. “And who is this one?” His tone was light, but the tension in it was unmistakable. His sharp gaze flicked from Alexander to Mina, expectant.

Mina took a slow, deliberate breath, letting the moment stretch. Then, with an air of casual defiance, she met her uncle’s eyes and said, “Oh, this is Alexander Deacon. I met him the other night at the carnival—we had a lovely time together.”

She let the words hang, knowing full well how he’d interpret them. And when she saw the flicker of irritation behind his carefully controlled expression, she smiled.

For the first time in a long time, she felt like she was winning.