[IC] 🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

[Tpartywithzombi]

Violet & Ariella

Violet took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with quiet restraint. She loathed these events—the weight of countless eyes, the expectation in their gazes, the way her name would be called out as if she were some prized thing on display. The very thought sent a twist of nerves through her stomach as she stepped down the long hall toward the banquet.

The sharp slap of bare feet against polished floors shattered the moment. Ariella Edwards came barreling down the corridor, wild-eyed and breathless, muttering a string of curses under her breath.“Shit, shit, shit.”A pair of heels dangled from her fingers as she desperately attempted to shove them onto her feet while still in motion.

Looking up from beneath the unruly mass of her hair, Ariella offered Violet a sheepish chuckle, hastily fluffing out her skirts. “Sorry…” Her expression curled into an awkward grimace as she finally settled behind Violet, preparing for their grand entrance.

Violet arched a brow, scanning her with mild amusement before offering a small, knowing smile. “It’s not a problem.” She turned back toward the doors, understanding all too well the consequences if Ariella presented herself in anything less than perfection.

An attendant stepped forward and, in a booming voice, announced their arrival.

“Presenting Lady Violet Damian and Lady Ariella Edwards.”

Violet descended the stairs into the grand hall, Ariella trailing close behind.

The weight of the crowd’s attention pressed upon them like a heavy cloak, but it was Ariella who felt its suffocating grip most keenly. She instinctively stepped to the other side of Violet, using her as a shield against her mother’s scrutinizing gaze.

Her eyes flicked through the sea of faces, seeking an anchor. Then she found him.

Callum.

Her breath hitched, her heart skipping in surprise as her gaze landed on him—on the crown atop his head. No. That couldn’t be right. He wouldn’t. Would he?

A familiar was absent from his side, only adding to her confusion. Was this what he had mentioned at in the woods?

She tore her gaze away before she could draw attention, fighting the smirk threatening her lips. If Callum wasn’t yet aware of that crown upon his head, he would not be pleased.

That thought nearly distracted her from what came next.

Ariella reached the table and sank into a shaky curtsy, dipping as low as she could manage—perhaps too low. She nearly toppled over, catching herself just in time.

“Your Majesties,” Ari murmured, each syllable laced with venom, though her lips curled into a practiced smile that masked her true disdain. The words felt heavy on her tongue, like poison wrapped in silk.

Violet followed in Ari’s footsteps but with a stark contrast in demeanor. She executed a flawless curtsy, dipping just low enough to show deference without seeming subservient. Her head bowed ever so slightly, her voice smooth and unwavering as she echoed, “Your Majesties.”

Without hesitation, both women stepped aside, allowing the next wave of guests to pay their respects. The weight of decorum settled over them as they moved toward their designated seats.

Violet slid gracefully into place between Alexander and her father’s empty seat, her gown pooling elegantly around her. She turned her attention to Mr. Deacon, her smile warm yet measured. “Mr. Deacon, I trust you are well?” she inquired, her tone polite but carrying the subtle weight of observation.

Ari, on the other hand, settled into her seat beside her mother with far less composure. She shifted uncomfortably, smoothing out the fabric of her dress before offering those at the table a fleeting, awkward smile. Her posture betrayed her unease—elbows resting on the table as she leaned forward, fingers idly tracing the rim of her glass, already counting the minutes until she could leave.

[ReusableSword]

Time: Evening
Location: Banquet
Interactions: Violet @Tpartywithzombi, Alexander @FunnyGuy
Mentions in order: Many
outfit: See Leo plenty of people wear green.

---

---

Just before the banquet

The air in the warehouse was still thick with the subtle tang of industrial byproducts. A more neutral scent of aged wood and canvas permeated the space, mingling with the faint, metallic tang of tools and materials. Evening sunlight filtered through tall, arched windows, casting long shadows across the room. Candles flickered, complementing the natural light. The delicate chime of a hammer against a small anvil, the heavy thud of a dropped crate from the storage areas, and the low murmur of focused conversation from the front of the room filled the space with a subdued symphony of industry.

The rear of the building is dimly lit, the storage more organized, with neatly stacked crates and equipment covered with heavy canvas. The makeshift meeting area only had three occupants, Astri, Erik, and Lord Ravenwood himself. the two helping the larger man get dressed. Erik wasn’t wasting the chance to drill into the lord what to remember to say and do.

“So, a review then, lad. What are ye not gonna do, eh?” he asked not hiding his accent while tightening down and aligning Roman’s jacket.

He rolled his eyes with annoyance but continued, “don’t unnecessarily piss anyone off, don’t make it obvious, don’t diffuse the trial, don’t start a war.” flinching when Astri pulled the jacket over his bandaged arm. “Ow hey! carful that’s still sensitive from earlier”

“That's a wee lassie's sound, that.” she said returning his glare with a smile.

Erik didn’t acknowledge the two bickering, “And what are ye gonna do?”

“Piss off the king and Calbert, try to see who pushes, stay on task…” he trailed off his mind elsewhere. “Do you really have to send those pictures of Violet and I to him? I... I don’t want to use her as a pawn in this.” his tone was pleading.

Erik's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowed as he gripped Roman's collar and brought the giant down to his eye level it wasn’t far, but it spoke volumes on its own. “We're here to do a mission, boy, one that WE will not fail, so we won't. She doesn't love ya; she'll never love ya, only that mask WE so carefully crafted. So, get your head straight, and out of your trousers.” He released him straightened the now ruffled collar and continued dressing the man.

Silence filled the room for a time until they were done. “Astri.” Erik spoke stepping back away from the other man to get a good look at him. “Check his seals and Aura.”

She didn’t hesitate just to do as she was told. a whisper barely audibles slipped from her lip’s pupils dilating and eyes growing bloodshot. "There's cracks and flickers o' black in his aura. The seals are holdin', but they're deterioratin' faster than expected, aye." she didn’t blink, she didn’t move, just looking through him and into him. “The bond’s strong but the other yin will be loose within the month.” Astri broke eye contact and dropped to a knee catching her breath.

“Dammit.” Erik said his glare still fixed on Roman, “if we find out you tampered with your seals again...” He didn’t finish his sentence; he didn’t have to. Roman was aware of the consequences for such an action or attempt. His counter parts attitude was understandable. Erik was here to keep him in line, if he messed this up, all his advisors would pay for it just as he would.

Roman’s father has made it very clear, either they all failed, or they all succeeded, and they all had something to lose. He could only speculate that the last conversation Erik had with his father about their progress did not go well. It would explain why Erik was back to his more uptight and serious attitude just like he was when he was training him as a young boy.

“Keep in mind my Lord.” Saying the last part with a sneer, “We don’t have any decorations that can hide your aura. That crate has suspiciously gone missin’.” One last looks over was all he needed to do.

With the raise of his hand, two well-dressed guards came up in unison wearing kilts with the tartan pattern of the Ravenwood house, well-kept and straightened jackets with matching berets. “Make sure our Lord here doesn’t get lost and arrives at the dinner late but still on time.” The duo saluted then stepped to the side paying no attention to the glare Erik received from roman as the trio made their way out to the carriage

“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.

[princess]

Time: 6pm
Location: The Castle Dining Hall
Interaction: @FunnyGuy Alexander/Lorenzo
Mention: @Silverpaw Wulfric @Tae Thea @Lava Alckon Drake @PapaOso Cassius/Milo

---

Queen Alibeth turned her head ever so slightly, her expression composed, eyes cool and unreadable as they regarded Alexander with the faintest trace of a smile.“How flattering,” she said softly, voice smooth. As she cut into her steak, she added without raising her gaze. “Flattery is best served with subtlety.” Her gaze flicked briefly toward Edin, still devouring his meal with reckless abandon, then returned to Alexander. “But yes, the food is… palatable. If one has the appetite.” She raised her glass in the most restrained of toasts, then sipped without waiting for a reply.

As guests entered and time went on, the man Edin had chosen as his advisor spoke up once more, but to their son this time.

“Now that’s the kind of thinking I like to hear!” Edin declared with a broad, greasy grin, slamming his goblet down with approval. “A young man who knows how to serve and flatter in the same breath—delightful! Yes, yes, Wulfric could stand to pass a few things off. Keeps the face pretty for the ladies.” He chuckled, tossing a grape into his mouth. “You’ll make a fine little workhorse if you keep this up.”

Alibeth didn’t look nearly as charmed. Her fingers traced the rim of her wine glass, and her gaze slid to Alexander with cool precision.

“Offering to serve before proving you’re trustworthy is ambitious.” She tilted her head ever so slightly. “Still… Caesonia does favor initiative. If you wish to take on responsibility, I trust you won’t fumble it.” Her smile was polite—too polite. “We’ll see what you're truly capable of soon enough.”

Though many continued to enter, Milo St. Claire in particular stood out for a moment. Edin was enamored by his words and grinned, “Ah, now that’s the kind of praise I could frame!” Edin beamed, thumping a hand to his chest. “In fact—someone already has.” He chuckled, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Milo St. Claire is my go to for a painting." He glanced at Alibeth, “Said I radiated power, charisma… something about divine masculinity, I don’t know—wasn’t really listening after the word ‘divine.’”

Alibeth, meanwhile, was not as impressed. In fact, her brow had twitched as the artist's gaze had lingered on her and she went back to her meal with more intensity.

“Now,” Edin said, swirling his wine and leaning forward with a glint in his eye, “let’s talk about these pairings we have forming this season, shall we?” He smirked as if he were about to deliver royal decrees, not personal opinions soaked in wine and arrogance.

“I’ll admit, I like the look of that Gideon's boy with the Smithwood girl, Phea. He’s got presence—handsome, talented, charming enough to keep the dull ones entertained.” He shrugged, then added very softly. “Could’ve been a smart match, if she weren’t one of Varian’s many wandering whores.”

He chuckled, low and crude, as he whispered in Alibeth's ear. “The Varians—gods, they let their women run around like stray cats in heat and still expect us to call them noble. No class. No discipline.” He scoffed and took a long sip from his goblet. “All that snow and still no cold in their veins.”

His eyes trailed lazily across the room. “Not that I mind watching it unfold. There’s an art to watching pretty little messes try to pretend they're royalty.” He grinned, shamelessly.

Alibeth didn’t bother hiding her disdain. She glanced at him sidelong, fingers drumming softly against her armrest.

“Yes, how fortunate Caesonia has you to uphold all standards of grace and restraint,” she said with sarcasm.

Edin grinned wider, unbothered. “You’re welcome, darling.”

“Oh—and speaking of questionable pairings,” Edin drawled, not even bothering to whisper as much as he waved his goblet as if it were a scepter, “I hear our dear Damien bastard, has been sniffing around little Charlotte Vikena.”

He barked out a laugh, loud and theatrical. “Poor lad. Too new in town to realize what kind of lunatic family he’s getting himself tangled up with.” He leaned back in his chair, grin wicked. “Imagine wanting Lorenzo Vikena as a father-in-law. That alone should earn him a padded cell and a priest.” As if on cue, Lorenzo was heard hollering across the table to Hafiz.

Edin paused his chatter for a moment, staring down the table at Lorenzo for a long thirty seconds.

“...Still… politically? Not the worst idea. It ties the Damiens closer to the Vikena seat and keeps the big seat of the Duke with Caesonian noble blood... But could a bastard even handle being a Duke... ” He tapped his chin, “Where the hell did he bloody come from anyway? Where has he been all this time?"

[princess]

Location: Castle Dining Hall
Interactions: @Lava Alckon Farim @JJ Doe Hala @FunnyGuy Lorenzo @Potter Kira

---

The Grand Vizier’s goblet hung loosely between his fingers, untouched for the last several minutes. His gaze, cool and calculating, had followed the shimmer of turquoise silk the moment it entered the banquet hall. While the rest of the room turned politely away or tried not to stare, Hafiz did not even blink. His eyes drank in every step Hala took—the casual dominance in their stride, the dismissive elegance, the haughty tilt of their chin that declared they were exactly where they belonged, whether anyone else agreed or not.

He watched Hala's dramatic entrance from the high table, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. The boldness, the sheer nerve—it was exactly what he had come to expect from Malik's child. A faint smirk curved his lips as he noted the dignitary's panic, savoring the ripple of tension that spread through the room.

He raised his goblet subtly in Hala’s direction—a silent acknowledgment, both a commendation and a challenge wrapped in one. Hafiz leaned back comfortably, clearly entertained.

It seemed tonight's banquet had just gotten far more interesting.

Without a single word spoken, Hafiz's eyes delivered the unmistakable message: Hala Sami is exactly where I intended them to be—challenge at your own peril.

Hafiz’s eyes flicked toward Farim only once the prince had already bowed to the company—too late to stop him, and far too early to pretend it hadn’t been noticed.

The smile that slowly crept across the Grand Vizier’s face was a thing made of iron and honey, all politeness on the surface, but cold underneath.

“Farim,” he said smoothly, each syllable enunciated like a lesson. "How thoughtful of you to interrupt.”

He raised his goblet slightly, the same one Farim had praised, and turned it between his fingers. “You always did have a fondness for sipping from cups you did not pour.”

The words came soft, almost teasing but anyone else listening would catch the undercurrent.

Still, Hafiz didn’t look at him directly. No, instead he cast a glance across the room—toward Hala, radiant and unruly in their stolen seat, and then toward the subtle chaos rippling through the banquet in their wake. His eyes narrowed with satisfaction.

Then finally, he turned back to Farim. The gaze now direct.

“But if you admire my taste so much, dear boy… do take care not to choke on it.”

And with that, he smiled again but it never reached his eyes.

A woman spoke his name and his gaze turned to her. Hafiz regarded Kira with a polite, composed smile, inclining his head just slightly to acknowledge her greeting.

"Ah, Lady Kira. The evening finds me quite well," he answered smoothly, his tone carrying a faint note of cool amusement. "And I trust you're finding Caesonia's hospitality...satisfactory?"

His gaze remained on her for just a moment longer than necessary,

Then Hafiz’s eyes narrowed sharply as Duke Vikena's grating voice suddenly reached his ears, jaw tightening with unmistakable irritation. He refused to raise his voice across the crowded hall, instead lifting his goblet in a mocking salute toward Lorenzo, his lips curling into a contemptuous smile.

Through gritted teeth and in a low voice meant only for those nearest him, Hafiz drawled sarcastically, “It seems the court jester has announced himself and dared to embarrass me yet again. How thoughtful...He feels he must announce himself lest anyone fail to notice his perpetual incompetence.”

He turned away dismissively, the subtle shake of his head enough to convey his displeasure, deliberately refusing to dignify Lorenzo's antics with a shouted response.

Hafiz, though initially irritated by Lorenzo’s obnoxious shouting, shifted his attention subtly toward the royal conversation. His expression turned from annoyance to veiled amusement as he listened, particularly enjoying Edin’s crass commentary when he could catch bits of it, especially as the man's voice rose with volume overtime. Hafiz’s lips curled slightly in a barely hidden smirk, savoring the biting disdain directed at those he himself found beneath contempt.

However, his eyes narrowed at Edin’s open contemplation of Cassius Damien and the Vikena match. His gaze briefly flicked toward Lorenzo—still obliviously causing embarrassment—before returning to the King with quiet scrutiny. Hafiz leaned back casually, swirling his goblet with faint disdain.

“Indeed,” he murmured quietly, just loud enough for nearby ears, “one must question the wisdom of entrusting any real power to a man foolish enough to choose to interact with Duke Lorenzo Vikena of his own free will on such a common basis.. Madness seems contagious these days.”

His words, though quiet, were sharp enough to carry his derision clearly. Hafiz took a long sip, his gaze coldly amused as he settled back, content to watch the evening unfold into chaos.

[princess]

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.

[SilverPaw]

	Attire: Banquet fit, a simple princely crown Date and Time: Sola 28th, 6pm Location: Castle dining hall Mention(s): Hala, the Grand Vizier, Lorenzo, the Edwardses, Roman Interaction(s): @FunnyGuy Alexander, @Tpartywithzombi Violet

Wulfric idly watched as the hall began filling up, the low murmurs of conversation raising and falling like waves lapping at the shore. The sound receded at the entrances of some, and came in force after the passing of others. Amongst the sea, a glimmer of turquoise swam through with all the grace and surety of a shark. The prince witnessed an Alidasht dignitary being supplanted by another, a stranger whose dark complexion contrasted with their long, flaxen hair. If he wasn’t mistaken, and he so rarely ever was, that unique set of characteristics belonged to–

“Prince Wulfric, your grace I…”

That grating voice interrupted just when it was getting interesting. He chewed on a small piece of filet mignon, gaze flicking in Deacon’s direction, not quite landing on him nor even near him. Effectively, he had dismissed him, while the subtle impression he may or may not answer lingered, leaving him hanging.

The echo of Lorenzo’s butchered Alidasht greeting rang in his ears, but thankfully, the Grand Vizier was able to maintain his composure this time, and even confirmed his suspicion that the new face among the nobles was Vali Sami’s oldest offspring. After a sip of wine, he finally opened his mouth, addressing Alexander. “Firstly, the proper style of address for a prince is 'Royal Highness',” he corrected. “Meanwhile, 'Grace' was historically used for monarchs but is now reserved for dukes,” he generously educated. “As a royal advisor, you must, at the very least, familiarize yourself with the basics.”

A forkful of leafy greens was speared on the gleaming metal tines, oh so graciously giving Deacon time to process while Wulfric refocused on eating for a moment. “Secondly, I select all my servants with painstaking care, and you have yet to prove your worth.” He delicately turned the stem of the wine glass between his fingers, the rich red liquid gently swishing within. “However, I suppose…” He took another slow sip, appearing to seriously consider the request. “I might be convinced...” he smirked as he teased at the idea.

“If,” he leaned closer. His next words carried in a whisper only Alexander would hear, for even Edin was too preoccupied with his own amusement at the Damien and Vikena pairing. “You bring me Marek Delronzo’s head.” He chuckled as he leaned back, a sound of flippant amusement. It was clear he did not believe Deacon would or could fulfill such a request, though the indulgent slant to his expression indicated it might be entertaining for the prince to watch him try.

“Ah, look, Ladies Edwards and Damien,” he commented, as if their entrance was of equal importance to Deacon’s offer to ‘help’. At Violet’s approach, he gave her a nod. “Good evening, Lady Damien. I hope you find this seating arrangement agreeable; word has it you are one of Mr. Deacon’s recent associates. His assistant, even, or so some say,” he smiled pleasantly. Among other information, he’d received a report of Black Rose’s carriage entering Damien’s estate in these past days. Was the daughter like the father, then?

He did not allow his attention to visibly fixate on her or on any other singular person. Instead, he returned Duke Edwards’ nod at his entrance, and merely tilted his head at Duchess Edwards. Frankly, at least her flaunted audacity was refreshing compared to the veiled contempt he’d discerned from the other nobles who thought themselves better than royalty. Curiously, it appeared Lord Ravenwood attempted to thread the line between those two extremes. After his trial had been announced, odd rumours started sprouting up about him. Some of it could be attributed to general gossip, but it felt a touch too forced – all of a sudden, there were too many, too concentrated, too directed in a sense. A result of someone’s intentional design, perhaps.

For now, he simply allowed the conversation to flow, and events to unfold as they would.

[samreaper]

Kazumin Nagasa

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.

[Rodiak]

_{dress ♖ hair ♖}

_{C A S T L E D I N N I N G H A L L | E V E N I N G
I n t e r a c t i o n s : Torvi @Tae
M e n t i o n s :}

Zarai blinked, slowly, as if her brain needed a moment to catch up. The honeyed ham in her mouth was absolute perfection—sweet, savory, melting on her tongue like a gift from the heavens above. She barely registered that someone had spoken to her until the words fully settled.

Oh.

Right.

She was at a banquet.

She turned her head, her icy blue eyes hazy but still sharp enough to look at the person addressing her. Another chew, then another. She chewed with exaggerated care, dragging the moment out, and finally swallowed.

Then, with the most self-satisfied smirk, she licked a stray drop of honey from thumb and drawled, “Mmm. Sorry, I got a little… lost in the moment.” She waved her hand vaguely over her plate as if to indicate the food itself was responsible.

She mirrored the woman’s posture and leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her knuckles, looking her over with sleepy amusement. “Zarai, but you can call me whatever you’d like—just say it sweetly.”

[Lava Alckon]

Drake

Time: Evening of the 28th
Location: Banquet Hall
Mentions: Thea @Tae, King and Queen Danrose @princess, Wulfric @SilverPaw, and Leo @Helo

---

Drake gets dressed

After his time at the charity event, Drake was on airs. He held his head high and walked with swagger. His cadence was a message to all - today was a good day, and the young lord would do all in his power to continue making it as such.

Drake made it home and after some brief carousing with his house staff, made his way to his chambers to prepare. He was never a man to wear the same thing twice in such short time - so the question became…what to wear?

In the midst of all the regal authority and flashy foreigners, could he truly compete in the fashion department? Perhaps being simple and traditional was the key to standing out in a sea of opulence. Drake nodded to himself as he thought to himself in the mirror, and grabbed a simple black and white tuxedo jacket. But to be bland was too simple. There was some accents to his attire that would surely do just the right amount of flair to his outfit.

In his nightstand drawer, the man grabbed a familiar box that he had been given on his birthday. A pair of cufflinks that were made from his birthstone - a thoughtful gift from his beloved. If there ever was a time to unveil such a present. Now seems like an appropriate time. Drake fashioned his new accessories to his cuffs as a knock sounded from his bedroom door. It was Sebastian, his ever faithful right hand.

“Sir. The corsage you requested?”

”Yes, it's beautiful. Thank you, Sebastian. Help yourself to the winery once Mother and Father are gone - but don’t let anyone else see you. Wandering eyes speak many words, young man.”

A quick exchange of nods between the two was all that was needed. Drake, grinning ear to ear, places the orange rose fashioned like a pin onto the lapel of his jacket. His hands firmly pull on it to smooth any creases leftover from his movement before he makes his way to the family carriage.

Drake stepped out of his personal carriage, only mere minutes behind his family. He had made special adjustments to his otherwise traditional attire. A black suit jacket, black pants, and shiny black shoes with a splash of white from his undershirt. On his wrists he sported two pairs pearlescent cufflinks on either wrist - aquamarines that glimmered subtly as he strode under the extravagant chandeliers.

A single orange rose with a small arrangement of greenery pinned to his chest was an interesting choice of color - but he had a feeling the person he wore it for would appreciate it. He took one last chance to fix his hair, fingers sliding between black locks that flower like waves down to his shoulders. As he entered the room, a faint aroma like the sea wafted from him - a tasteful amount of one of his personal favorite colognes: “Voyage of the Sea”.

”Introducing, the Lord of House Edwards…Sir Drake!” cried the orator.

Drake smiled and gave a ceremonious wave to nearby company. He took quick stock of who was here and where they were - offering momentary glances and quick smiles to familiar faces. Stopping before the King and Queen, he bowed and addressed them.

”Another spectacular event, Your Royal Highness. I am looking forward to the expertly crafted palette of tonight's meals, and honored to be in such radiant presence.” Some might call it brown-nosing - Drake just saw it as a necessary formality for one such as Edin. He paused for their response, and gave proper leave before making his move back to his seat.

Before that, he stopped and placed his hand out towards Wulfric. ”And a good evening to you, Sir Wulfric. I hope you do not mind me removing some of the usual formalities.” Once their hands would make contact, Drake would lean in for a cheeky whisper. ”Lest I be the subject matter of your next scolding.”

Drake snickered slightly and regained his composure, finishing the handshake. ”I look forward to what the night brings. I hope it treats you well, Wulfric.” As Drake finished he strode towards his seat, where his eyes locked onto a stunning figure.

A casual pace turned into more of a purposeful stride as Lady Thea went to take her seat. Not too hurried, but just quick enough to take hold of the seat and offer it to her. ”Not that you needed my assistance, but it would behoove me to not offer the courtesy, Lady Smithwood.” With an outstretched hand, he gestured for her to sit, and allowed her the chance to view the special cufflinks up close. Once she was properly seated, Drake looked over to their left and saw a vaguely recognizable individual. The talk of the town - and apparently subject to many misfortunes. Still, the young lord greeted him as delightfully as any other.

”You must be Lord Smithwood. Pleasure to officially meet. I am Lord Drake Edwards.” He pushed his arm out for one of many handshakes of the night.

[CitrusArms]

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?"

[Helo]

Time: 6 pm
Location: Castle Dinning Hall
Attire: Winners wear red & black!
Interactions: Alexander, Olivia, Dutchess Edwards, Ariella, and Edin

---

Clarence turned his head and flashed a wide and enthusiastic smile at Wulfric. He liked this sibling: a presence that commanded attention, a dark wit, and who was, without a doubt, the most regel of the Danroses. He dipped his head respectfully, returning the nod.

His gaze flickered to a woman who addressed him. He neither recognized her nor did he note anything about her that said she was important. Just the opposite, in fact. She entered the dinner with the Vikena family; neither Edin nor Wulfric held that ilk in high esteem. So he followed their lead, giving nothing more than a single glance their way.

“I fancy the suit, Prince Callum. To think we share the same tailor is quite the honor,”

Clarence smiled at Alexander. “There’s a reason for that.” He said, straightening his bow tie. “Men like us, only accept the best.”

Alexander. Works for Black Rose, our allies. Clarence studied him, a far more put-together and composed ally than he’d ever expected Callum to have.

Mischief twisted its way into his smile. He watched the Edwards entrance, noted the major snub as the Dutchess failed to bow before the royal family.

“Dutchess Edwards, do you think yourself our betters? I noticed you did not bow, or curtsy, before your king and his family. Are you too proud to submit before His Majesty?” Clarence asked, his voice carrying across the dining hall with ease. As he spoke, he watched Ariella’s clumsy entrance.

Clarence lifted a hand and blew a kiss her way, the gesture smoothly turning into a wave.

“Oh, and look father, your jester has arrived." Clarence spoke as he watched the puppet boy knocked over food, plates, and goblets. A jester indeed, the puppet's colorful eyesore of a suit absolutely screamed court jester. The anticipation was thrilling - what would the king do with his new toy?

Hopefull something violently entertaining. The spirit thought. How long could the puppet keep dancing?

[Helo]

Lord Leo Smithwood

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.

[Helo]

Time: 6 pm
Location: Castle Dinning Hall
Interactions: Hala, Kira
Attire: Red like the other cool kids

---

Rohit, enthusiastic with everything he did, grabbed Hala’s hand, pulled them close, and gave a few shoulder pats that caught the jealous eye of Nadim. A moment was then dedicated to the dog, whose ears and wrinkly jowls received a proper scratching and squishing, respectively.

“I would’ve invited you, if I knew you were here.” He teased.

“Bored? I am never bored. No, today, I met,” His neck craned as he tried to spot Milo. The artist wasn’t hard to find - St. Claire naturally stood out. Like one of his painting’s, Milo’s captivating presence kept eyes on him. Ironic.

“Milo St. Claire. Definitely a talent worth writing home about. Look at that suit. Nothing says ‘Hey, look at me’ like being decked out in eyeballs, huh. As if anyone needs to be reminded to look at him.” He watched Milo for few moments longer than necessary.

“Anyway, fantastic artist. Invited me to his VIP party during his gallery showing. Great time. Oh, I wonder if Mina’s here.” He looked around the table again and spotted a couple of redheads but no sign of Mina. He would’ve thought she’d be here.

“Guess she’s not here. But we were both deemed VIP worthy. She’s fascinating, hair like fire too. New development, I am adored by redheads.” He bragged and looked around for Olivia, who he also pointed out to Hala. He attempted to wave at Olivia but wasn’t sure if she saw.

“I helped her pick out an owl today, after the gallery. How was your journey? Have you been bored without me?” He continued; the atmosphere was vibrant and loud and Rohit naturally met the energy in the room.

He glanced to those in their immediate vicinity, table neighbors if you will, and took note of the faces he recognized. He flashed a quick smile toward Farim and Ana.

“Bey Rohit Amar, nice to meet you.” He introduced himself to Kira, the woman directly across from him whom he didn’t recognize.

[princess]

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."