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[sub][color=7F6B5D]C A S T L E   D I N N I N G   H A L L  |  E V E N I N G[/color][/sub]
[sub][color=gray]I n t e r a c t i o n s :
Torvi [@Tae] , Stratya [@CitrusArms], Lorenzo [@FunnyGuy]
M e n t i o n s :[/color][/sub]
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Zarai giggled, lazy and open and entirely unbothered. [color=93a477]“Lucky me, I’ve got a high tolerance.”[/color] She paused, letting the words settle in her own mind, then added with a dramatic sigh, [color=93a477]“Which, in all honesty, suuuuuucks. The amount of alcohol it takes for me to catch a decent buzz? Alarming. But then again—”[/color] she lifted a finger for emphasis, [color=93a477]“Mother did not raise a bitch who backs down.”[/color] Her tone was matter-of-fact, like she were reciting the current economic state of Sorian. Not that she had the faintest clue what that was. 

The declaration sparked a sudden awareness; her throat was parched, desert-dry, and her tongue felt like sandpaper that had been baking on a rooftop in the middle of an Alidasht desert. Water. She needed water. But not just any water. No, she craved a glass of chilled, crystalline perfection, kissed gently by lemon and blessed with a single, delicate slice of cucumber. Refine hydration. Elegant refreshment. 

Her gaze drifted across the table, seeking salvation. She skimmed right over the sad, neglected glass already in front of her. That? That was not water. That was an insult. That was a cucumberless crime!

Then, a distraction. Torvi. Then the knight. The Torvi again. Her eyes flicked lazily between them before catching sight of a tall blond man behind them. Dressed simply in black and white, carrying two dainty cakes. 

Zarai perked up and waved. [color=93a477]“Excuse me—”[/color]

But the man didn’t pause. He just gave a polite smile, a bow… and sat down. 

She blinked, then pouted. [color=93a477]“Aw. I thought you were a servant. I wanted a cold glass of water…”[/color] Her voice trailed off into genuine disappointment, like a child realizing they were not going to the park but the doctor’s. 

Then, with a sigh, she added, [color=93a477]“Eh. At least you’re pretty.”[/color]

The man looked up, a spoon already halfway to his mouth. [color=94b0c4]“Ah, I apologize for that, Lady Zarai.”[/color] He hesitated, amused. [color=94b0c4]“And I appreciate the compliment…?”[/color]

[color=93a477]“Yeah, yeah,”[/color] she mumbled, flapping a hand like it weighed too much, already moving on. 

She stood up, etiquette be damned, and wandered away from the table, mind blissfully detached from decorum and everything around her. The dog running across the hall did catch her attention, however. She watched it nearly crash into the Alidasht side of the room. She didn’t blink. Not her business. Her goal was hydration. 

And then, a voice. Male. Loud. So freaking loud. 

[color=salmon]”I do not wish for Charlotte to become like one of those young Varian girls with no self-worth!”[/color] 

Zarai stopped cold, turned, and spotted the source of the voice. Her eyes narrowed at the relic of an old man. Well, he was not that old, but he was now! 

She pointed directly at him. [color=93a477]“Hey! Shut it, old man. I’ll make you eat your words, [i]pendejo[/i]! You don’t know shit!” [/color]

And just like that, she turned back around and kept walking, completely unbothered, as if she hadn’t just threatened to serve Duke Vikena a knuckle sandwich. 

She frowned to herself after he left. [color=93a477]“[i]No mames[/i]… old man made me forget what I was doing…”[/color]













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