By request, reposting the last segment of the previous post.

[center][h3][color=#9D8573]⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆[/color][/h3][/center][center][h2][b][i][color=#9D8573]Hala Sami[/color][/i][/b][/h2][/center][center][h3][color=#9D8573]⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆[/color][/h3][/center][right][color=#9D8573]28 Sola, Night
The Grand Banquet[/color]
[@PapaOso] [/right]
[color=#DFC9BA]

The introductions between Rohit and the woman sitting across from them—Kira, if the castle staff hadn’t botched the name cards—barely registered in Hala’s consciousness. Their focus magnetized back to the golden-haired artist.

[color=#9D8573]“I’m going to go say hi to this Milo man.”[/color] Hala announced, rising from their seat with sudden decisiveness.

As they navigated the crowd, Hala felt the familiar weight of eyes following them. Nadim's protective presence trailed behind like a shadow, and conversations briefly stuttered as they passed—a small pleasure Hala had come to expect but never tired of.

Hala stopped short of Milo, making no effort to hide their blatant assessment of his ensemble. When his hazel eyes met theirs, acknowledging their inspection, Hala merely offered a smile—part challenge, part approval, all confidence. They closed the remaining distance between them, fingers reaching out to ghost over—but not touch—the fine embroidery on his sleeve, examining the quality of the material while the rest of the room faded to background noise. 

[color=#9D8573]“Are you an artist who creates with your own hands, or do you direct others to make your vision a reality?”[/color][/color]