[hr][hr][center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180221/49bcc0b2957deef9bc393fe1c8c068d4.png[/img][/center]
[center][img]https://media.giphy.com/media/bktTFbIYTeRpu/giphy.gif[/img]

[img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180322/5c002c3ba9c3856c0b91555c37c9b35f.png[/img]
[/center][hr][center][b][color=4169E1]Location:[/color][/b] Servants' Quarters - The Palace
[/center][hr]
	Lyra felt a pang of empathy in her heart at seeing tears begin to well up in Myrus's violet eyes. She hadn't wanted to hurt him, yet nevertheless she spoke the truth knowing full well that sometimes it can be painful. In the end, she found that the truth had a way of hunting people down, so to her lying would only put off the inevitable pain to come. This case was no different, or was it? She felt the need to sugarcoat her words, which contrasted her normally bold tongue. That's the thing about being both bold and empathetic. You bite your tongue to protect others' feelings yet all the while feel like your destroying your own.

	She unconsciously bit her lip as she looked up at Myrus. She felt that there was so much more that needed to be said. However, she feared that if she were to be too blunt that she would crush the young prince's spirit. Yet, another part of her wondered if not speaking up would do him more damage in the end. To say she felt conflicted was an understatement. She opened her mouth, willing herself to say something, anything, but her window of opportunity was cut short by a knock on the door.

	Lyra looked past Myrus to see two strangers. She glanced back at Myrus, her green/blue eyes widening slightly, upon hearing that these were two [I]foreign delegates[/I] standing in [I]her[/I] doorway. She didn't need Myrus to tell her that they deserved a show of respect. She was already curtsying deeply and respectfully bowing her head when he motioned to her. When she finally rose, along with Myrus, her uplifted gaze took in both of the delegates before gravitating to Asha the [b]Magykal[/b]. She found herself awestruck. The woman was positively radiating in the purple sheen of [b]Magyk[/b]. It was a beautiful display, but all the while it was also a show of sheer power. Of all the wizards that traversed the Castle, nothing compared to it, to [I]her[/I].

	A light rose tint came to her cheeks before she pulled her gaze away, feeling that it was rude of her to stare. She glanced back over at Myrus before looking down at the ground as the subject turned to more solemn topics.
[hr][hr]
[hr][hr][center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/171220/5ec03724db4435074dd4b4d274e4bc3b.png[/img][/center][center][img]https://media.giphy.com/media/119ct9W5kUP2q4/giphy.gif[/img]

[img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180331/7d1197d0dbea20e3ba5028d68b88b6ca.png[/img]
[/center][hr][center][b][color=808080]Location:[/color][/b] Port Witch Coven House
[/center][hr]
	Malekith made to follow in behind Fleur, when the sound of the front door being thrown open caught his unenthusiastic attention. It was none other than the old man Sigmund once again intruding upon this private establishment. The man was certainly persistent, persistently annoying. To make matters worse, worse for himself, he had the gall to flaunt his arsenal of [b]named bullets[/b], one of which had the initials of his "dear" Witch Mother Fleur. Malekith tilted his head to the side before precisely training his expression to one of suppressed outrage. Despite what his demeanor would suggest, he was unmoved by Sigmund's death threats. Truth be told, if Fleur died today, he wouldn't bat an eye. After all, he didn't have any sentimental attachment to her, or to anyone for that matter. Nevertheless, she was his leader, and a good one at that, so he [I]had[/I] to protect her. [I]Technicalities.[/I] 

	He moved to step in front of her, as if to shield her from potential fire. Not that it would matter. A [b]named bullet[/b] would defy all logic to hit its intended target, and no human shield could stop it. Nevertheless, the seemingly protective action in and of itself made it appear that he actually cared. [I]Lies, all lies.[/I] Malekith's gaze narrowed on Sigmund, and he raised his hand, intending to use his [b]Darke Magyk[/b] to "subdue" the old man. However, Nera quickly beat him to the punch. [I]How rude.[/I] As Fleur went around him and approached Sig, Malekith kept his guard up in case the man tried anything stupid. As it turns out though, the only thing stupid was the look on Sigmund's face before he killed over from fright. [I]Lame.[/I] 

	Malekith let his arm fall back down to his side and watched as Fleur cleaned up the mess. As she turned back to face him and Nera, his eyes looked her over, as if to check for wounds. It was a habit of his to act all concerned and whatnot. It was disgusting to him really. He nodded his head in response to Fleur and once again stepped aside to allow her to go up the stairs first.