[color=#DEC5D6][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/m6hY3dZ.png[/img][/center]
[color=#8D3B72]Time:[/color] Evening
[color=#8D3B72]Location:[/color] Banquet Hall
[color=#8D3B72]Interactions/Mentions:[/color] [@Oso] Cassius, [@Apex Sunburn] Iyen
[color=#8D3B72]Aesthetic:[/color] [url=https://i.imgur.com/58FOu03.jpeg]Outfit[/url]


[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1064772112633569330/1100627858638000148/Banner.png[/img][/center]

Kalliope sat back in her seat, silently watching Cassius. Her fingers drummed absentmindedly on the edge of her goblet as his words took root in the air. She felt a twist of unease…this was about to get ugly, and she wasn’t sure whether to pity him or prepare for the aftermath.

Then a voice pulled her attention and something was set on the plate in front of her. Her eyes fell to the bread, staring at it in curiosity. Her eyes stayed fixed on the table in front of her, not looking up as the bread was set on her plate like some kind of offering…or a challenge.

The smile she gave in response was thin. Brittle. Beautiful in that dangerous, break-glass way. She let the silence hang for a beat longer than polite, long enough to make Iyen’s words settle between them like ash.

[color=#8D3B72][i]“That’s bold talk for someone who doesn’t know a fucking thing about me.”[/i][/color] Her tone wasn’t angry. Not overtly. But there was steel in it, sharp and gleaming. A blade hidden in silk.

She finally looked at Iyen then, slowly, eyes dragging up with the weight of exhaustion and something older—something cracked and aching beneath her skin.

[color=#8D3B72][i]“You think I’m playing?”[/i][/color] Her voice dipped quieter now, intimate and deadly. [color=#8D3B72][i]“You think this is some little game where I play with hearts and count trophies?”[/i][/color]

A bitter smile tugged at the corner of her lips. It didn’t reach her eyes.

[color=#8D3B72][i]“I don’t play with hearts. I simply bury mine every time it gets close to beating.”[/i][/color]

She leaned forward slightly, voice still low, but with the kind of heat that could scorch. [color=#8D3B72][i]“You want to play bodyguard, be my guest. But don’t sit there with your smug little smirk like you know a damn thing about what I’ve lost. Or what I’ve survived.”[/i][/color]

Her fingers curled against the edge of the table, knuckles whitening. [color=#8D3B72][i]“Because clearly nothing says ‘I care for Sjan-dehk’ like barging in and flinging accusations like a drunk with a dagger.”[/i][/color]

Her gaze flicked over Iyen, sharp and unflinching. [color=#8D3B72][i]“You don’t scare me. You’re not the first person to come for me with a blade and a bad attitude. And you won’t be the last.”[/i][/color]

She picked up the bread, tore off a piece with lazy disinterest, and popped it into her mouth.

[color=#8D3B72][i]“But you already think I’m a villain, don’t you?”[/i][/color] she said around the soft chew. [color=#8D3B72][i]“So let’s not disappoint.”[/i][/color]

Her eyes darkened, tone dropping to a whisper of silk dragged over steel.

[color=#8D3B72][i]“If you think I’m heartless, ask yourself this—why the fuck would someone with no heart look that broken when she passed him?”[/i][/color]

And then she smiled again, sweet as arsenic.

[color=#8D3B72][i]“Now unless you plan to stab me, flirt with me, or pass the salt—go back to your fucking seat.”[/i][/color]

Her gaze stayed locked on Iyen now, daring her. Letting her know, without a shred of doubt, that if it came down to it, Kalliope wouldn’t back down. Not from her. Not from anyone.[/color]