[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/H0jWy99h.png[/img][/center]
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[color=slateblue]Time:[/color] Dinner Time
[color=F0E399]Location:[/color] Banquette
[color=slateblue]Mention:[/color] Victoria, Gideon, Clarence 
[color=F0E399]Interactions:[/color] Victoria, Gideon, Leo, Thea 
[color=slateblue]Appearance[/color]: Light blue gown with Silver accents

[i]“Embarrassing?” Victoria echoed softly, slowly setting her wine glass down with a soft clink. Her smile was  untouched by warmth. “Darling, I wear shoes in public and know how to enter a room without looking winded and lost. Between the two of us, I assure you—I’m the lady.” She reclined slightly in her seat, gaze icy. “And as for hatred, no, dear. It’s not hatred. It’s disappointment... dressed appropriately.”[/i] 

There was so much commotion at the table Ari hadn’t even taken note of the other situations brewing around them. The proximity of her mother made the entire event feel like a vice tightening around her ribs, suffocating in its familiarity. Knowing what she knew now—fractured memories from a weeping child turned guarded man—it made Victoria’s presence almost unbearable. Drake did what he could to protect her, but the truth? The real, twisted truth? It sat smug and perfumed across from her, masked behind perfectly painted lips and snake-slit eyes that blinked far too slowly for comfort.

She swirled her wine beneath her nose, pretending to be lost in the bouquet. The tart, overripe sweetness clashed bitterly with the venom her mother dripped about Thea—graceful, radiant Thea. Ari’s gaze flicked toward the woman, elegant even in the face of Victoria’s thinly veiled cruelty. No wonder Drake looked at her the way he did. A subtle smile curved Ari’s lips as Thea’s quiet defiance bloomed into well-placed remarks, sharp enough to draw blood if one listened closely.

“Ariella…”

The whisper curled around her like smoke, brushing her ear with an icy familiarity. She stiffened, trying to shake it off, but it slithered deeper. The darkness it carried crept along her spine, nestling somewhere behind her, whispering wicked little ideas that felt far too much like home.

Her gaze fell to her wine again. Then to her mother’s pristine gown.

Before she could think better of it, her hand moved, casual and precise beneath the guise of a clumsy fumble. The wine glass tilted just so, catching the lip of Victoria’s plate. It teetered—then tipped. A slow, theatrical spill of crimson wine poured over the fine china, cascading like blood down into her mother’s lap. 

Ari’s expression snapped into one of practiced horror. She gasped, a delicate hand fluttering to her lips as if she hadn’t just orchestrated the entire spectacle.

A nearby attendant rushed in with a cloth, flustered and apologetic, trying to stanch the crimson tide as it spread.

[color=slateblue]“Mother!”[/color] she cried, her voice high and breathy, dripping with false remorse.[color=slateblue] “Oh gods, I’m so terribly sorry—I wasn’t thinking, I was just so rattled after that little scene earlier…Must have just been lost in my thoughts agian…”[/color] She stood swiftly, plucking a napkin to dab at the mess, though her hand lingered a little longer than needed.
[color=slateblue]“How foolish of me…”[/color] Her voice cooed, a soft, hollow thing, sweetened like poison in a teacup. Inside, she watched the deep scarlet stains bloom across Victoria’s lap with quiet, simmering satisfaction. [/color]