[center][h3][color=#9D8573]⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆[/color][/h3][/center][center][h2][b][i][color=#9D8573]Hala Sami[/color][/i][/b][/h2][/center][center][h3][color=#9D8573]⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆[/color][/h3][/center][right][color=#9D8573]28 Sola, Night
The Grand Banquet, Outside & Inside[/color]
[@Helo] [@Oso] [@Tae] [@Tpartywithzombi] [@princess] [@CitrusArms][/right]
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[color=5F9EA0]“Bitter that your efforts to convince the prosaic St. Claire to suck at your wounds have been fruitless?”[/color]

A theatrical sigh escaped Hala. [color=#9D8573]“With how disappointing this whole night’s been, he’s going to have to suck more than my wounds to make up for it.”[/color]

[color=5F9EA0]“Petting yourself to the sound of your own voice? I guess that’s one way to love yourself.”[/color]

Their lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile but promised far more entertainment. [color=#9D8573]“You say that like it’s supposed to be an insult.”[/color]

One hand disappeared into the silk draped across their chest. When it emerged, it cradled a small, trembling bundle of cream and dark points—a dwarf rabbit no bigger than their palm. Yara’s enormous eyes blinked at the assembled group before she pressed herself against Hala, seeking comfort from the tension thick in the air.

[color=#9D8573]“There’s no shame in loving yourself,”[/color] their voice softened, fingers finding that sweet spot behind Yara’s ears. The rabbit melted under the touch before burrowing back into the safety of luxurious fabric.

Moving closer, Hala studied the prince. Something was off-kilter, had been from the start. The way he held himself, the cadence of his speech, even the expressions he made. None of it matched the stories about him.

[color=#9D8573]“Not that you’d know anything about that, from what I’ve heard about you, Callum.”[/color] They let his name drop like they were testing how it tasted. Head tilted, Hala’s gaze traveled his features. [color=#9D8573]“Though you’re apparently not acting like the prince people know tonight.”[/color]

Fingers drifted upward, hovering near his chin without quite making contact—close enough that he’d feel the warmth, the almost-touch more electric than actual skin on skin. [color=#9D8573]“Almost like you’re not Callum Danrose.”[/color]

For a brief moment, they held each other’s stare. If Clarence dared a taste, it wasn’t anger radiating from Hala, not disappointment either—just flat, stale boredom.

Rapid, urgent footsteps cut through the night air.

[color=white]“Hala Sami!”[/color]

The servant’s voice cracked with panic as he stumbled into view, chest heaving from his sprint. Words tumbled out in a frantic rush: [color=white]“The Grand Vizier sent me—Nadim—he’s been kidnapped by a Caesonian knight!”[/color] 

Every trace of playfulness and boredom evaporated from Hala’s demeanor, spine snapping straight, eyes sharpened to razor points.

[color=#9D8573]“Who.”[/color] The word carved itself from ice.

[color=white]“Knight Captain Stratya Durmand,”[/color] the servant gasped, still struggling for air.

Silk robes billowed behind Hala, sweeping toward the castle doors. Mind racing faster than feet. Calculating. Strategizing. Preparing for war. [color=#9D8573]“Where?”[/color]

[color=white]“She’s still in the dining hall.”[/color]

A sharp click of tongue against teeth. They reached the heavy doors and inhaled sharply through their nose, then exhaled as they pushed inside.

The dining hall wasn’t the same room they’d left. Whatever had happened in their absence had shifted the energy, charging it with the aftermath of one storm while it crackled with the promise of another. 

Nervous fidgeting caught their attention. [color=white]“That is her, over there.”[/color] The servant’s finger guided Hala’s gaze to the knight captain—country manners stuffed into knight’s clothing.

Although they wanted to march straight over for a confrontation, Hala knew this wasn’t the place or time. With a hunting cat’s grace, they settled themselves behind Grand Vizier Hafiz. 

And waited, ready for him to say the word.[/color]